Peter Cotterell's Treasure

  III--BEN AND DAVID MAKE A DISCOVERY

  Although David Norton could get around the bases on the Barmouth HighSchool baseball diamond as fast as anyone else, when there was need ofit, and could keep on doing a clog-dance in a Minstrel Show until theaudience rose up and begged him to quit, he could also at times be aslazy as a jelly-fish stranded on the beach, which as everyone knows isjust about the laziest creature in nature. At the present moment he layextended on the stern seat of the sailing dory, while little Ben Sully,as patient and expert a fisherman as was to be found in Barmouth Harbor,was watching his line for any indication of a flounder nibble.

  "Funny old bird," said David. "Reminds me of someone out of a storybook."

  "Old bird?" queried Ben. "Do you refer to Sir Peter Cotterell or toCrusty Christopher?"

  "To neither of them, Benjie. Our friend Professor Tuckerman is theparticular feathered creature to whom I was alluding. I opened one eyelast night; and what do you think I saw? Professor Tuckerman was sittingup, in his suit of flannel pajamas, staring out at the water as if hesaw something."

  "Perhaps he did. Or maybe he was only thinking. Some people do thinksometimes, you know, Dave. I did some thinking myself last night."

  "About old Christopher's secret?"

  At the moment Ben was too busy to reply. With practised care he drew uphis line and threw a fine, flapping flounder on the bottom of the boat.

  "Yes, about the secret," Ben said, as he rebaited his hook. "I believethere is one. And I think that Christopher Cotterell rather hoped hisnephew John Tuckerman would find out what it was."

  "Why didn't he tell him then, instead of leaving that crazy note?"

  Ben shook his head. "Christopher wasn't like most people. But it seemsto me he was rather proud of that secret,--it had been in the family solong,--and he didn't want it to be entirely forgotten. So he meant tolet it be known there was a secret, even if nobody ever found out whatit was. A person might do that, you know."

  "It would take a mighty queer sort of person," sniffed David.

  Ben resumed his fishing, watching his line as a cat watches amouse-hole.

  But David, in spite of posing as an unbeliever of all things he couldn'tsee for himself, had a well-developed bump of curiosity. When he sawthat Ben didn't mean to continue the subject he raised himself on onearm and demanded, "Do you take any stock in there being a mystery on theisland that goes back to the Revolution?"

  "Sure," was the prompt answer. "The house goes back that far, and someof the furniture in it, I suppose. Why not a mystery?"

  "Well, it might, perhaps. But see here, Benjie----"

  "Sh-sh-ish, you'll frighten the fish." Ben brought up another flounderand unhooked it.

  As he dropped in the line again he continued, "Mr. Tuckerman told me afew things this morning. You see, this Sir Peter was a man of means. Hehad a lot of valuable things in this house, silver and such things he'dhad brought over from England. When the people of Barmouth were tryingto do all they could to help George Washington and his army they thoughttheir rich neighbor out here ought to do his share. But he was a Toryand wanted King George to win, and so he wouldn't do anything when theyasked him. The colonists came to his house, but they found very little;his famous silver plate was gone; they took some things, but they alwaysthought he had tricked them. And after that they wouldn't have anythingto do with Sir Peter."

  "Served him right, the old scamp."

  "Now Mr. Tuckerman thinks the secret may have something to do with thethings the neighbors couldn't find. At least that's a possibility."

  "Huh," chuckled David, "the Revolution was more than a hundred yearsago. If that was the secret, some of the Cotterells since then wouldhave found out about it. And when they did, there's an end to thesecret."

  Again Ben was busy. A third flounder appeared and was carefully landed."You're right, my boy," said Ben, "if they did find out what became ofSir Peter's valuables. But suppose they didn't? Suppose CrustyChristopher and his father, and his father before that, knew the oldstory, but never could find the things? How about that, my lad?"

  "Well, in that case," answered David slowly, "I should say the bettingwas a thousand to one the secret would stay a secret."

  "Mr. Tuckerman calls it a sporting chance," said Ben. "I said to himjust about what you've said to me now; but he grinned and told me henever gave up conundrums."

  David dropped back into his former comfortable position, his handsclasped under his head and his cap pulled down over his nose, so as toshield that sensitive feature from burning a more fiery red than it wasalready. "So Tom and the Professor are prowling around the old housethis morning?" he said reflectively. "Well, they're not apt to run intoany ghosts at this time of day."

  Ben, absorbed in his fishing, continued his careful handling of his lineuntil half-a-dozen flounders were deposited in the boat. Then he stowedaway his tackle, stretched his arms, and looked around. "Now, Dave, youold duffer, I'm going to take a cruise about our island home. There'snothing like knowing all the ins and outs of the place where you'reliving. Do you think you're strong enough to handle the tiller, or wouldyou rather dangle your feet over the bow?"

  David sat up with a grunt. "Don't you get sarcastic, young feller. I cansail this dory with one hand behind my back." And shortly he had the_Argo_ headed up into the wind, keeping well out from shore so as toavoid the occasional spits of rock that ornamented the coast.

  They started to make the circuit. Cotterell's Island, so far as theycould judge from the water, was very much like all the other islandsthat lay out from Barmouth, thickly wooded for the most part, withalternating beaches and headlands, and here and there a cliff, withlittle rock-bound basins at the foot. On the eastward side, however,there was an opening, where the tide ran inland for some distance, afair sort of harbor except when the wind should blow from that quarter."There," said Ben, "there's a snug landlocked channel. If I'd been oneof the Cotterells and wanted to keep a boat hidden that's the place I'dhave picked out."

  "You're making the Professor's ancestors sound like pirates orsmugglers," objected David. "What do you think they did that they wantedto keep so dark?"

  "That little inlet can't be so far from the back of the house either,"Ben went on, paying no attention to his companion's question. "Yes, thatwould be the place to steal away when the neighbors came to call."

  "I'll take a look up there," declared David, who was beginning to feelthat Ben was giving himself airs. "I guess I can find my way up thatinlet as well as any of your blessed Cotterells could." And suiting theact to the word, he brought the _Argo_ about and kept her bow a littleto the north of west until she had cleared a seaweed-covered reef thatwas high up out of the water at ebb-tide.

  Ben said not a word, but picked up a boathook, in case it should benecessary to fend off the dory at some turn of the shore. But David knewhis business. Up the winding channel he made his way until the _Argo's_bottom gently ran on to gravel at the head of the stream.

  "Yes, I was right," said Ben. "There's the roof of the house on theother side of those trees." A leap, and he landed on shore, the dorycareening on one side from the force of his jump.

  "Hi there, young feller, what are you trying to do?" cried David. "Ididn't tell you you could go ashore."

  Again Ben paid no attention to the other's words. He was looking abouthim as if he was very much interested in the place where he had landed.

  David, making sure the _Argo_ was safely aground, clambered over theside. "Was it your intention, Mr. Sully, to scuttle our good ship here?"he inquired with mock politeness.

  "Look," said Ben, in a deep and earnest tone.

  David looked. In the marshy ground a little in front of them were twodistinct footprints, uncommonly large footprints, with very wide toesand very deep heels.

  "My word!" whistled David. "Benjie, we've come to the lair of themastodon!"

  "Footprints!" murmured Ben, regarding the marks with the same awedsurprise with which Robinson C
rusoe first gazed at the prints in thesand of his island.

  Distinct Footprints]

  "A giant's footprints," said David.

  "They're never Mr. Tuckerman's or Tom's," said Ben.

  "The Professor has rather small feet," stated David, "and I happen toremember that Tom wore sneakers this morning."

  "They can't have been there very long,--not for more than a few days atthe most."

  "I should say not. Benjamin, somebody has been trespassing on ourisland."

  "I wonder if there are any more." Ben began to search.

  There were no more footprints, however. The stretch of soggy ground wasvery limited, almost immediately the soil grew stony. So, after a briefhunt, the two came back to the shore. "Now I wonder," mused Ben, "whatthat very large-footed person was doing here."

  "Do you think," asked David, "he can have been looking for the Cotterelltreasure?"

  "It's much more likely," said Ben, "he was looking for something easierto find. However--suppose--there's an off chance----" And Ben went onmumbling to himself, while he jingled a bunch of keys in his pocket, aswas his custom when he was lost in thought.

  "What in the world are you doing?" demanded the exasperated David.

  "Putting two and two together--or at least trying to."

  "Well, they make four. There are times, Benjie," David continued,imitating the manner of a teacher at the school they both attended,"when I find myself almost on the point of losing patience with you. Thecrew will now return aboard the _Argo_, leaving the mystery of themastodon's footprints unsolved."

  When they returned to the beach in front of their camp they found Mr.Tuckerman and Tom already getting dinner. That is to say, Tom wasactually getting it, while John Tuckerman was carrying out his orders.At the moment the latter was peeling potatoes. His flannel shirt open athis throat, his golf-stockings stuck full of little burrs and his faceand arms already showing blisters of sunburn, he looked decidedlydifferent from the very dignified person who had come upon Tom Hallettin the lane.

  "Flounders," announced Ben, laying his string of fish on a board thatserved as a table. "The very best eating, in my humble opinion."

  "Put them in the refrigerator for supper," said Tom. "You two were goneso long I decided to knock up an omelette for our midday meal."

  "'Knock up' is good," agreed David. "I suppose, Mr. Tuckerman, Tomcracked the shells with a baseball bat."

  "I don't know how he did it," Tuckerman said; "it seemed like a miracleto me. But there's the result; and if anybody ever saw anything moretruly beautiful--anything so calculated to make the mouth water inanticipation--well, I don't believe anybody ever did." He pointed hisparing knife at a golden-brown, crisp object that lay, garnished withwatercress, on a big tin plate.

  "And speaking of water," said Tom, "we found the well back of CotterellHall. Fresh water, guaranteed sweet and pure. There's a bucket of it."

  They sat down to dinner, and between mouthfuls they talked.

  "Wonderful old house," said Tom. "We explored it from cellar to attic.Four post bedsteads----"

  "With wonderful canopy tops!" added Tuckerman, his spectacled eyesgleaming.

  "And enormous chests of drawers," continued Tom.

  "Full of all kinds of clothes," Tuckerman added. "Ladies' laces andmuslins, shawls, mantillas, gentlemen's pantaloons, neckerchiefs, andwhat waistcoats!"

  "Funny old kitchen," said Tom. "With a fireplace as big as a cabin."

  "And a crane and a hob and a whole fleet of earthenware crocks,"Tuckerman supplemented.

  "I say, Mr. Tuckerman," cried David, "why don't you turn the place intoa museum? All the people who tour through Barmouth in the summer wouldjump out of their skins to see such a place as that."

  "What I want to know," said Ben, "is whether you got any clue to theCotterell treasure."

  Tuckerman shook his head. "Rome wasn't built in a day, Benjamin; and atreasure that's been hidden for over a century doesn't come to light intwenty-four hours."

  "Ah, just you wait till our Benjie gets busy," said David, waving hisfinger wisely. "There's the bright lad for you. While you two potteredabout those gigantic bedsteads and chests of drawers and fireplaces,what did our Benjie discover?" He paused to heighten his announcement."Benjamin Sully discovered a pair of gigantic footprints!"

  It took a moment for this to sink in.

  "Footprints?" said Tuckerman, puzzled.

  "Someone has landed at the little creek near the back of the house,"explained Ben, "and since the last rain, too."

  "Someone with enormous feet," added David. "Now what do you suppose sucha person as that could be doing here?"

  Tuckerman put his hand into his coat pocket and drew out a very smalland crumpled handkerchief. "We found this on a table in the kitchen. MyUncle Christopher only had a negro man-servant. And yet this belonged toa lady,--a very particular lady, I should say, a dainty lady." He spreadthe handkerchief out. "With beautifully embroidered initials--A. S. L."He lifted it to his nose. "And it smells of lavender--and quite fresh,too."

  Solemnly the tiny handkerchief was handed around. Each smelled it andnodded his head.

  "Someone's been in the house," said Tuckerman, "although all the doorswere locked."

  "A lady with enormous feet," declared David. "My eye, how the plotthickens!"