The Mystery on the Mississippi Page 14

  One line whirred and was reeled in. The other boy cast again, and soon Trixie could hear a fish struggling in the water.

  Tears gathered in the reddened eyes of the listening girls as minutes, half an hour, then an hour went by. Possible help was so near, yet there was no way to reach out for it.

  If the boys would only come aboard the steamboat! Trixie thought. If they did, how could she attract their attention? The thumps she made on the floor probably wouldn’t be heard outside the door. And the door was locked!

  Her eyes darted around the room, from object to object. I could knock over a chair, she thought, if I could bump across the floor to reach it. But it’s in that far corner, and the boys would be gone before I could ever reach it.

  Her glance went to the floor, to the debris there.

  She singled out the glistening motel key. Maybe, I could push that across the floor and under the door, she thought. Then if the boys should come aboard....

  The key was not very far away; it was about halfway between Trixie and the door. But the effort required to reach it made it seem a thousand miles away.

  Honey, her eyes following Trixie’s to the key, seemed to sense what her friend was trying to accomplish. Her eyes crinkled in encouragement.

  Trixie raised her body and wriggled slowly and awkwardly toward the key. She ached in every muscle. As she neared the key, she twisted her body so that she could push it with her chin. Then she lowered her face and pushed. Inch by inch she pushed it. Each convulsive movement of her chin was painful. She was so intent on her efforts, however, that she hardly noticed the pain. Doggedly she prodded till, with one violent thrust, the key disappeared underneath the door.

  Then Trixie’s head fell back to the floor in triumph. Across the room, Honey’s eyes told her that she, too, was rejoicing.

  The struggle to push the key had exhausted Trixie. Suddenly a terrible thought flashed through her mind. The boys would probably never see the key! They probably fished here so often that they would have no interest in the hulk of the old steamboat.

  They would probably just go on to another fishing hole. They might even go back home, never knowing of the chance they’d had to save the lives of two desperate girls. Tears started in Trixie’s eyes.

  What was Dave saying to Mike outside?

  “Aw, let’s quit fishin’. I’ve got a string now that’ll make my ma’s eyes pop out.”

  “Yeah, mine, too,” Mike answered. “I didn’t stop to think I’ll have to clean the fish before Ma cooks 'them.

  “I know. Takes all the fun out of it. Say, let’s go up on the old boat and drop our lines over the side. Catch some catfish, huh?”

  Inside, Trixie listened, holding her breath, waiting for Mike’s answer. Would they really come aboard? Would they see the key? Trixie prayed hard.

  She heard the boys’ feet scrambling up the plank. She heard them running around the lower deck.

  Higher! Trixie prayed. Come up higher to drop your lines! Come up to this deck! Come up to this deck and find the key!

  As though in answer to her prayer, she heard Mike and Dave noisily clumping up the stairs that led to the pilothouse.

  “Say, look at this!” Mike said, his voice awed. “Someone lost a key. Here, Dave, look!”

  “Yeah! It’s from a motel in St. Louis.” Dave read the inscription. “Gosh, somebody left this since the

  last time we were here. I never saw it then, did you?”

  “Naw.Of course not. Do you suppose they left any other junk inside the pilothouse?”

  “We can look.”

  Mike tried the door and found it locked. “That’s funny. It’s never been locked before.”

  Inside, Trixie and Honey, determined to attract the boys’ attention, groaned as loudly as their dry, tight throats would let them. Then they raised their bodies and bumped on the floor.

  “Did you hear somethin’?” Dave asked.

  “Yeah! Do you s’pose there’s someone in there?” Mike asked.

  Trixie, her body close to the door, bumped hard against it, making it rattle on its old hinges.

  “Gosh, didya hear that?” Mike called.

  “I sure did. I’m gettin’ out of here.”

  “Me, too!”

  Inside, Trixie was desperate. Try to knock down the door! Try to get to us! Try to untie us!

  Her answer was the sound of running feet. Down the stairs the boys rushed, and across the plank to shore.

  Trixie’s heart fell to her very toes. She looked at Honey. Honey turned her face away. Then, as a new sound outside intruded, Trixie raised her head again to listen.

  “What are you boys up to?” a gruff voice inquired.

  “Say, where’d you get that string of bass?”

  “Over there near that log,” Mike answered. Then he added in an awed voice, “There’s someone up there in that old pilothouse!”

  “There is?” the man asked. “Now, ain’t that somethin’? A body’s got a right to go up there if he wants.”

  “That’s not it,” Trixie heard Mike insist. “There’s someone groanin’ up there. We heard ’em. You go up and see.”

  Oh, do make him come up to see, Trixie begged. Do please, whoever you are, come up here and find us!

  “So someone’s groanin’ up there, are they?” the man’s voice asked. “Who do you think it is, the devil?”

  “No, sir, but we found this key.”

  “That makes you think there’s someone up there, does it? Well, let me tell you this. That old steamboat’s been there for almost a hundred years, I guess. A body can hear more creakin’ an’ groanin’ in it than you’d hear in a graveyard. What if you did find a key? I’ve got a collection of junk at home I’ve picked up that people dropped or threw away here, there, an’ everywhere. I’m goin’ to fish. You boys go right ahead an’ do as you please. If I was you, I’d drop the key in the bushes on your way to the highway. Course, if you want to spend the price of a stamp, you can mail it back to the motel. I wouldn’t bother. Now, go on outa here. I don’t want any noise disturbin’ my fishin’.

  I don’t think the ghosts up there in the pilothouse are goin’ to bother me any.”

  Hopelessly Trixie heard the boys obey the man’s command to run on. The sound of their feet splashing through the swamp grew fainter and fainter, then disappeared.

  For a while she heard the man’s movements as he cast for bass and reeled in. He sang a folk song of the Mississippi River to himself, in a low, coarse voice. Time went on, and eventually he gathered up his catch and sloshed off down the river’s edge.

  Trixie bumped her body over close to Honey again. She couldn’t bear to look into her friend’s eyes. There was nothing left to do but wait... wait... wait.

  The morning sun now shone brightly through the pilothouse windows. Trixie’s dry throat longed for a sip of water. Her aching body protested against the strain she had put on it by bumping across the floor... a long, futile journey.

  It could not be long now till Lontard and his accomplices would return.

  Numbly, Trixie and Honey waited, unwanted tears running down their cheeks. There was nothing else they could do.

  Bob-White! ● 17

  DESPONDENTLY TRIXIE thought, Why in the world did I ever get my hopes up over that key? The only thing that would help us would be for the boys to take it to the police. I'm sure they never even thought of that. Dave and Mike didn’t even tell that man who was fishing that the door to the pilothouse is locked. If they had, he might have investigated. He’ll be just as sorry as the boys when he finds out he could have saved our lives.

  As Trixie was thinking, she became aware that Honey was trying to attract her attention. She raised her head and saw Honey motion with her eyes toward the shore. The sound of mumbling voices came to her. A coarse laugh. A woman’s voice. Someone swore. Lontard was coming back!

  Trixie looked hopelessly into Honey’s eyes. It may be the last time I’ll ever see her, she thought. It just may be the las
t time I’ll ever see anyone I love....

  Mrs. Aguilera was speaking. “You’re making a big mistake if you plan to hurt those girls now.”

  Her husband answered, “They’ve gotta be bumped off. There’s no other way. We’re in so deep now that we’ve gotta get rid of them. Don’t you agree, Frenchy?”

  “Keep your mouths shut. I’m the boss of what’s going on, and don’t you forget it. When I want any opinions, I’ll ask for them. Maybe the kids are goners by now. That’d solve some of our problems. Maybe not. I had another plan in mind.”

  “Like what?” Juan Aguilera asked.

  “Like I’ll tell you when I get good and ready. Get out of my way. I’ll soon know what I’ve got to do. Let me up those stairs!”

  Heavy feet mounted the steps... nearer... nearer... nearer. Then Lontard strode across the space between steps and pilothouse and inserted the key in the lock. Trixie heard a rusty creak as the door yielded. It opened, and Lontard’s bulk filled it. The strong morning light shone full on his sneering, wicked face. He grinned maliciously.

  “Alive, are you?” He walked across the room and turned the girls over with a prodding foot. “Did you have a pleasant time last night? Did you enjoy a visit from the water rats? They’re nice little companions. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  Honey hadn’t moved since Lontard’s heavy foot had touched her. She’s fainted now, I know, Trixie thought, terror filling her. Now I’m all alone. Maybe . Honey is dead. What is that man saying?

  “Go ahead, Juan, take the gags off!” Lontard ordered. “It surprises you, does it, Elena? You did not know I could be so compassionate? Well, then, do this, too: Give them a drink of water. Quickly!”

  Mrs. Aguilera filled a glass from a pitcher on the table. She held it to Trixie’s lips. They were so swollen they would hardly open. Trixie shook her head sadly. In a husky voice she said, “Please give Honey a drink first. I think she’s fainted. Please try to revive her. Only, if you’re going to kill us, don’t try. It would be easier for her that way.”

  Lontard laughed mockingly. “Who said anything about killing such sweet little girls? Untie their arms and legs. Quickly, Juan. Don’t look at me that way. I know what I’m doing. Untie them. Don’t waste time. I’m merciful and kind. Don’t you remember how merciful and kind I can be?”

  “If my husband forgets, I remember,” Elena Aguilera said as she soothed Honey’s swollen wrists and ankles. “I’ve watched you with grown people, but I’ve never said a word. I can’t watch you torturing these young people any longer. Try to lift your head, Honey. Take a sip of this water.”

  Honey’s eyes fluttered and opened. Her pale face whitened even more when she saw who was holding her.

  “Drink the water, Honey,” Trixie said in a low, hoarse voice.

  “Yes, drink it!” Lontard commanded. “I’m thinking of taking you on a nice little trip, a sight-seeing jaunt. I don’t want you fainting all over the place. Get up! See if you can walk. Juan, lift the little darlings to their dainty feet.”

  Mrs. Aguilera slowly lifted Honey. The woman stood with her arms sustaining the trembling girl till strength returned to her limbs and she was able to stand alone. Her husband jerked Trixie to her feet roughly. Trixie knew very well that Lontard was not to be trusted, yet they were not going to be killed right away. The thought sent the blood rushing painfully through her numbed legs and hands. She put her arms around Honey. The girls clung to one another.

  Lontard dusted his hands together. “There, now, that’s better, isn’t it? See how kind Pierre Lontard is? How do you repay me? You have committed every

  known sin against me. You stole my valuable papers. You took them from where I had accidentally left them, in my room. You would not return them to me. You saw me hunting through that wastebasket, and you knew I was hunting for my property. Did you give my property back to me? No.” Trixie and Honey, their arms around one another, did not speak.

  “When I went to all the trouble of putting my helpers aboard the Catfish Princess to try and recover my papers, did they succeed? No. At that point, Elena was more inclined to help me. She pushed you into the river, Trixie. Everyone would have been sure it was an accident, and, in the excitement, Elena would have had your purse and the papers. But you”—he pointed his long finger at Honey—“had to butt in, and that plot failed.

  “Then, that night, you did not give me time to search your stateroom. I had to go overboard, into the water, and swim for shore. I’ll never forgive you for that!

  “I thought I could take care of things later, but everything went wrong. At every place I’d arranged to meet Bob with his boat, something kept him from stopping. Then I made a bad mistake when the Coast Guard picked up Bob. I should have waited. I’m sure that’s the time you turned the papers over to the authorities. They’re bound to have them.

  “At every move you frustrated me. And I can’t stand frustration! One paper I wanted. Just one paper, more than any other. The map of the river. With it in the hands of the authorities, our plan is ruined.”

  “What are you doing all the talking for, Frenchy?” Juan Aguilera interrupted. “You’re no history teacher. We know what’s already happened. Forget it. What we don’t know is what’s going to happen.”

  “A cat has great pleasure playing with a mouse,” Lontard growled.

  “Meantime, what’ll be happening to us?” Juan Aguilera inquired coldly. “We know they handed the papers over to the authorities. You’re getting to the point too slowly for me.”

  “Silence!” Lontard commanded.

  “You can’t ‘silence’ me. I’m tired of your stupid orders. I’m tired, too, of your chicken-heartedness, Elena. I’ll take a few things into my own hands.” Lontard grabbed Aguilera’s arm and twisted it till he howled with pain. “I give in!” he whined. “What’re you going to do?”

  Pierre Lontard turned to the girls. “What I’m going to do is to give you just one more chance to tell me where my property is. Do the authorities have the papers?”

  Neither Trixie nor Honey spoke.

  When Lontard spoke again, his voice was as cold as ice. “If you have not turned my papers over to the federal agents, and if you will tell me where they are and I can get them back, then I am prepared to set you free. I’ll put you on the highway, and in an hour’s time you will be with friends again. Did you give them to the authorities?”

  Trixie did not even raise her eyes.

  “Will you tell me where they are?” Lontard’s voice grew more urgent.

  Trixie did not answer. She could not. Even if she had wanted to speak, no sound would have passed her lips, for they were paralyzed with terror.

  “Then I must tell you the alternative. I must work fast. Elena does not think little girls should be put in the river. So I will not do that, for her sake.” His lips curled.

  “That is not your reason,” Mrs. Aguilera said. “I fear even more, Pierre Lontard, what you are going to say now.”

  “You are very perceptive, Elena,” Lontard said with frightening sarcasm. “Bodies come to the surface of the river. They do it far too quickly. Fishermen are quick to find them. I cannot take that risk.”

  “So what?” Juan Aguilera asked. “Make it quick. While we talk, the authorities are gaining on us. You think they’re too dumb to translate those pictures you made on that map. I don’t think so. They’ve got what they call ‘cryptographers’ in the government. Maybe you don’t know what that is. Maybe that bird who runs your country doesn’t have ’em. You draw a picture of an old man with a beard in this country, and right away a cryptographer can tell you it’s St. Peter. Same way with all the rest of your artwork.”

  “There has been no evidence that they know anything of any of our secrets up and down the river,” Lontard retorted. “However, it’s plain to me that I’ll get no cooperation out of these two girls. We’ll go from here now.”

  He grasped Trixie’s arm. “Remember the old house where you took refuge in the storm? It’
s a beautiful old place... a rest home. That’s where you’re going— a nice little ride up the road, then the beautiful old house. You need a long rest, and you’ll get it there, both of you.”

  Trixie clung tightly to Honey. A glimmer of hope arose. Her brothers and Dan and Jim knew of the old house. They might hunt for them there. But Lontard’s next words brought despair back with a rush.

  “We won’t be able to give you quarters in the house itself, I’m sorry to say. We need it for our business transactions. Outside the house, down a path, there’s a comfortable cave that is well hidden. You will be happy there, I am sure. Of course, we will have to bind you again, arms and feet. A little handkerchief, too, well applied to keep you from making any noise. That’s just in case you may be too particular to be satisfied with your quarters.”

  “For pete’s sake, Lontard, quit your lecturing,” Juan shouted in disgust. “You may like to listen to the sound of your voice, but I’m sick of it. If you’re going to take ’em to the cave, let’s take ’em. Want me to tie ’em up first?”

  “No!” Lontard cried out. “I’ll forget your contemptible remarks and answer them another time. Let them walk. I’ll take care of this one.” He tightened his hold on Trixie’s arm. “You give the other a good strong arm to lean on, Juan. Be a gentleman like me, see?”

  Lontard shoved Trixie out of the door and down the steps.

  Trembling, their knees shaking and almost crumpling under them, the two girls went with their captors. Trixie knew they were going to certain starvation and death. No one will ever find us in that cave, she thought. If they do, it will be too late. Why, oh why, did I ever get into that car with Mr. and Mrs. Aguilera? Why didn’t I wait for the boys? They would have saved me. They always have. Oh, Brian... Dan... Mart... Jim! Trixie let out a terrified shriek.

  Suddenly, miraculously, from the river she heard the shrill whistle of a bobwhite. Then another! And another!

  With bursting hearts, the two girls answered.: Bob-white! Bob-white! Bob-white!