Dig Here!

  XIII

  Harry's Hair Restorer

  AUNT CAL was as brisk and decisive as ever next morning. She made nomention of last evening's occurrences, but she startled us by proposinga plan. "How would you like to have a picnic for your two friends thisafternoon?" she asked. "I'm told the young people often go to the beachand cook their supper over an open fire, though I must say it hasalways seemed to me a most unsatisfactory way of preparing a meal."

  "Oh, a beach picnic!" I cried. "What a perfectly swell idea!"

  "And you'll come too, Aunt Cal?" Eve begged.

  Aunt Cal shook her head. "I'm obliged to go into Millport thisafternoon on some business," she said. "But I shall be able to help youwith your preparations this morning if you think favorably of mysuggestion."

  "Bet your life we do!" I jumped up and gave her a hug. "Oh, Aunt Cal,you are a darling after all--I mean," I amended hastily, "after all thetrouble and worry we've caused you. I'll go call up Hattie May rightaway!"

  "Yes, you'd better," Eve agreed, "before that Hamish goes off on somewild goose chase or other. When a boy imagines he's been endowed by abeneficent providence with the mental equipment of a Sherlock Holmes,you can't tell what he may do!"

  I returned from the drug store to find Eve stirring a cake and Aunt Calmaking salad. "They're coming," I announced, "at least Hattie May is.Hamish has gone off somewhere but she said he'd promised to be back forlunch."

  "Well, I only hope you won't set yourselves afire," said Aunt Cal witha sigh. "Or catch your death o' cold sitting around in those awfulbathing suits!"

  "Hattie May says we can dress in the Wildwood Inn pavilion," I said."And don't forget we'll have Hamish on hand in case of accidents!"

  Eve was putting the finishing touches to the chocolate cake some timelater. As she stood surveying its satiny perfection, she said slowly,"I do wish Michael Gilpatrick could taste that. I'd like to show himthat a mere girl is good for something! Besides, I hate to think ofHamish practically gobbling up the whole thing as he's sure to do if hedoesn't have a competitor to prevent him."

  "Well you don't need to worry," I said. "Because I invited Michael tocome too."

  "What! You did!" Eve was surprised.

  "Yes. I thought we might as well ask him. I got hold of him at the farmin Old Beecham where he works. He didn't go into ecstasies over theidea but he said he was planning to go for a swim this afternoonanyway, as it's Saturday half holiday, so I guess maybe he'll show up.I only hope he and Hattie May won't come to blows."

  As soon as our rather hurried dinner was over, Aunt Cal, arrayed in hersecond best black silk, departed for Millport. Although she reiteratedher warnings against fire and drowning, I felt somehow that her mindwas preoccupied. Indeed she had been vaguely different all day. Sheseemed in a way softened, and yet more determined. Was that old letterresponsible for the change and was it that which was taking her toMillport?

  Hattie May and Hamish were waiting on the beach when we got there thatafternoon. Hamish wanted to know at once whether Aunt Cal had saidanything more about the letter. I told him shortly that she had not. Ifelt that he deserved a snubbing for what he had done last evening but,as often happens, the people whom you most wish to snub are the veryones who are impervious to such tactics.

  Michael was late in arriving. Hattie May said that for her part itdidn't matter whether he came or not as she'd never met a ruder boy. Ithought it a good moment to put in a word of warning. "Michael isdifferent from most boys," I said. "He doesn't like to be made a fussabout."

  "Why, I just said I thought he was brave in grappling with thatburglar," Hattie May retorted indignantly. "Though now that I come tothink it over, I quite see that there was probably no danger at all andthat he was just trying to show off."

  "Show off!" This indignantly from Eve. "I tell you Michael's not thatkind."

  "Oh, you needn't tell me," retorted Hattie May. "I guess I know allabout boys."

  When at last Michael's tall figure came sauntering down the beach,Hattie May greeted him with a chilly nod. "We thought probably it wasmilking time and you wouldn't be able to get away," she said casually.

  Michael grinned. Apparently he had decided that Hattie May was not tobe taken seriously. "Oh, no," he said, "we don't milk till seven. Guessyou've never lived on a farm."

  "No," said Hattie May, "I must admit I've never had that pleasure. Noneof my family are farmers!"

  This did not seem to be a very auspicious beginning for our picnic. Evethrew herself into the breach. "Do let's get into the water," sheurged, "before it gets any later."

  Michael, as one might have guessed, proved to be by far the bestswimmer of us all, though Eve was a good second. Hattie May's effortswere punctuated by blood curdling screams and calls for somebody to"save her"; but as no one paid the slightest attention, she soon gaveup and returned to land. Hamish, too, after paddling about ratherblindly without his spectacles, sat down on the sand where, replacinghis glasses on his dripping countenance, he began making entries in anotebook.

  "What is it, Hamish?" I inquired. "Your diary or memoirs or something?"

  He shook his head absently. "No, just bringin' my notes on the Cravencase up to date."

  I raised myself on my elbow and looked at him. Was he just a ratherovergrown little boy playing at being detective? Or had he really foundout something of importance? Suddenly he fixed me with his thicklenses. "I know what you think," he said astutely. "You think I'm oneof those playboy detecitifs like in the books!"

  "Oh, no, indeed," I assured him hastily. "Of course I don't thinkanything of the kind!"

  "Yes, you do," he stated. "But I'm not, I'm different. I figure thingsout. I'm smart. I got ideas."

  "I'm sure you have," I murmured, and waited for what I hoped wascoming. But Hamish just went on writing. At any rate he was keeping hisown counsel in the approved manner of the perfect sleuth.

  The day was perfection and, as I lay there on the warm sand and gazedout over the blue bay with its flecks of white where it met the sea,the question of why someone had written something in an old letter grewsuddenly unimportant in the face of that bigger wonder of earth and seaand sky. Then I fell to remembering another blue bay on the other sideof the world across which I had sailed away from Mother and Dad nearlya year ago.

  "Sandy's being homesick!" Eve's mellow voice broke into my thoughts.

  I sat up. "No such thing!" I declared stoutly. "I was just thinkingthat a blue emerald couldn't hold a candle to the color of that waterout there!"

  I caught a glint of appreciation in Michael's eyes as he stood with theshallow water swirling about his ankles. But Hamish said, "Guess youwouldn't talk like that if you should see it once! Chap I talked tothis morning said it was as big as a quarter!"

  "What!" exclaimed Hattie May. "Why, Hamish, you never told me!"

  "Had this chap seen the blue emerald?" Eve inquired.

  "Well, no, not exactly. But he'd heard his folks talk about it when hewas a youngster."

  "So far as I can discover," said Eve, "no one ever did see the thing."

  "I suppose you'll be saying next that Captain Judd himself never sawit," remarked Hattie May. "I suppose he was maybe blind when he buriedit!" she added with heavy sarcasm.

  "We don't know that he did bury it," I remarked. I glanced at Michaelfor confirmation, but he only shrugged and grinned and said he wasgoing up to dress.

  "Wait," I said, "I'm going to take some pictures first." Someimpulse--for which I was later to thank my lucky stars--had moved me tobring along my kodak. I took several groups and Eve took some more withme in them. Then I finished off the film with some snaps of a fleet oflittle yachts that were just entering the harbor. Michael said it wasthe annual cruise of a Boston yacht club and that they came into theharbor every year at this time.

  "I used to get a great kick out of them when I was a youngster andfirst started coming here," he said. "I was sure I'd be a skipper whenI grew u
p."

  "Why," exclaimed Eve, "I thought you were a native of Fishers Haven,Michael. Weren't you born here?"

  "Oh, no, my home's in Connecticut. My folks used to come here forsummer vacations. So this summer when I had to get some work, I came upand got me a job on Cousin Al's farm."

  After we had dressed we all set to work on preparations for supper. Theboys built an oven in the sand while we collected firewood. Then weburied potatoes to bake and sharpened long sticks for roasting baconover the coals. Eve and Hattie May and I made coffee and spread thetable.

  "Why didn't your aunt come to the picnic?" Hamish asked unexpectedly,while we all sat about waiting for the potatoes to get done.

  "Oh, picnics aren't in her line I guess," I said.

  "Don't you suppose she _ever_ went to one--when she was a girl, Imean?" asked Hattie May.

  "Don't know, I'm sure," I found it hard somehow to think of Aunt Cal asa girl at all.

  "Well, I'll bet that old salt next door has been to plenty of 'em,"said Hamish. "I'll bet he hasn't missed much that went on, picnics oranything else!"

  Michael chuckled. "You should hear the sea yarns he can tell when hegets going!"

  "By the way," continued Hamish casually, "I picked up a little presentfor him when I was over in Millport this morning, something practicaland yet fancy."

  "A present for Captain Trout!" We all gazed with curiosity as Hamishproceeded to extract from the pocket of his jacket an oblong package.

  "Hamish," giggled Eve, "is the world's great gift giver. He justshowers tokens of esteem about among his acquaintances. He hasn't givenme anything yet but I'm living in hopes. By the way, when did you getacquainted with the Captain, Hamish--you only came yesterday?"

  "Well," he returned, "of course I'm not exactly acquainted with him.But I noticed him walkin' round his garden last night. And so when Icame across this--this present that I got--I thought right away thatthat was just what this sailor fellow needed. Even if I don't know him,I think we all ought to help each other all we can."

  "Hamish," I murmured feelingly, "I never dreamed what deep springs ofunselfishness were--er--slumbering----" I dabbed at my eye as the smokefrom the fire was drifting my way.

  "Springs don't slumber!" put in Eve.

  "Well, open it up and do let's see what fool contraption you've boughtnow!" demanded Hattie May impatiently.

  "'Tisn't either." Hamish pulled off the string of the package. "Yousee, I noticed as soon as I saw this fellow Trout that he was goin'bald. So naturally when I ran into a fellow peddlin' hair tonic----"

  "Hair tonic!" came in a chorus from Eve and me.

  "Yup." Hamish held up a large black bottle. Somehow I knew what thelabel would say before I read it--"Harry's Hair Restorer"!

  "Hamish," I demanded tensely, "where did you get it?"

  "Why, I just been tellin' you, on the street in Millport. A fellow waspeddlin' it--said it was his own secret formula that he'd used fortwenty years. And, boy, you oughta seen his hair!"

  "Golly!" said Michael, swallowing half a sandwich at a gulp. "Can youbeat that?"

  "Well, what's eatin' you?" Hamish's gaze traveled from him to Eve'sface and mine. "You all look 'sif I'd committed a crime or sumpin! Iguess the stuff isn't poison and anyhow nobody's going to drink it. Theway I figure with a head like Trout's, anything he can do--even if itonly grows him a couple of hairs--is better than leavin' things go theway they are!"

  "Look here," asked Michael. "This fellow you bought the stuff of, is hestill in Millport?"

  "How do I know? I didn't ask him where he was going. Say, what's allthe excitement anyway?"

  "The excitement is," I said, "that our Mr. Bangs, in addition tocarrying cryptic documents in his suitcase, also carried a cargo ofhair tonic which I guess we forgot to tell you about--bottles labeled'Harry's Hair Restorer' and so forth."

  "Sufferin' sunfish! You don't mean it? Then this guy is the very samevillain that's been diggin' up that garden and that broke into youraunt's house the other night!"

  "Looks like it," said Michael. "He must have got himself another wigsomewhere."

  "And me talkin' to him face to face!" moaned Hamish. "Just the very manI was lookin' for! And me falling for that yarn of his that he'd lostall his hair from jungle fever when he was twenty-one and how thisrestorer had brought it all back in ninety days! Golly, I could go kickmyself into the ocean--him and his old hair tonic!"

  He took out the cork from the bottle and sniffed it disgustedly. "Uh!Smells like glue and kerosene!"

  "Let me smell," said Hattie May.

  The bottle was passed from one to the other and we all made faces inturn. As I handed it back to Hamish, he seized it violently and,rising, with a savage gesture, flung it into the sea. It fell far outin the green water with a plump. "I'm goin' to get even with thatfellow," he declared dramatically, "if it's the very last act of mylife--even if it takes me ten years!"

  "Poor Captain Trout," Eve murmured, "destined to a hairless old age!"

  Hamish glared at her. "I say," he demanded, "when do we start eatin'?"

  Michael bent over the oven. "The potatoes are done," he announced.

  While we ate, we continued to discuss the case of Mr. Bangs. What sortof a man was this? One day appearing as a real estate agent, another asa burglar and a third, as a street peddler! And if he had failed tofind what he was after in the old garden, why was he still hangingabout? Were the wigs he wore intended merely as an advertisement of hiswares or were they worn for disguise?

  As we talked the sun dropped lower and the slanting rays turned theblue-green water to rose and gold and crimson. The waves grew quietunder its gilded touch. At their moorings, the little yachts rockedgently with furled sails. For a moment our chatter subsided. It wasHamish's falsetto voice that broke the spell.

  "Say, isn't it about time we got started home? Isn't anything more toeat, is there?"

  "One sandwich left," I said.

  He shook his head. "Haven't got time."

  "Time?" Hattie May cried. "Hamish Farragut Lewis what are you going todo now?"

  "Oh, nuthin'," he muttered. "Just thought it was getting pretty lateand if I was goin' to drive the girls home--on account of their auntbein' so particular and all----"

  His sister eyed him suspiciously. Apparently this explanation of hishaste did not altogether satisfy her. However, we began to pack up thethings. Michael extinguished the last remnants of the fire and Hamishwent to get his car.

  We walked up to the Inn with Hattie May. Hamish was waiting to drive ushome. Michael refused a lift, saying he had to see a fellow in thevillage.

  "Now you come right straight back, Hamish," Hattie May ordered. "If youdon't, I'm going to write to Mother first thing in the morning."

  Hamish's mutterings were unintelligible as he bent over the starter.

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