CHAPTER ELEVEN
TERRAPIN ISLAND
Kitty saw her father reading the evening paper as Brad brought her homeabout nine o’clock.
“Won’t you come in?” she asked, though she knew her voice betrayed herweariness.
“Not tonight. You’ve had a full day and better get some rest.”
“I am tired,” she admitted, but she felt a glow of happiness that hewas so understanding.
“Guess your dad is sort of lonesome. He’ll want to hear all about whatyou’ve been doing. He wouldn’t like it, Kit, if he knew what chancesyou’ve been taking.”
“No, I suppose not,” she admitted. “I’d better be careful what I say,or he may try to stop my Sherlock Holmes business.”
When she went into the living room her father glanced over the top ofhis paper. “Enjoy your trip to the beach?” he asked, still somewhatpreoccupied.
“It was wonderful. Almost like old times.” She sat on a footstool nearhim, and took off the kerchief that had bound up her hair. All thegirls had worn slacks and kerchiefs for the picnic instead of theirCanteen uniforms.
“A boat’s been sunk offshore. The beach was full of wreckage.”
“Yes. One went down not far from here yesterday.”
“I had no idea so many were still being sunk.”
“Far more than get into the papers.”
“One of the boys told us about them capturing a sub that had freshbread on it from Bayshore Bakery. That seems incredible!”
Her father let his paper slide to his lap and reached for his pipe.“Oh, they’re getting supplies all the time—food, gasoline, and manyother things, no doubt.”
“Can’t they put a stop to it?”
“Not as long as weak human beings can be bribed by the glint of gold.”
“And for other reasons, too. Do you suppose any men are in our Army andNavy who are agents of the Nazis and Japs?”
“Certainly not, Kit,” her father answered, then added a bit dubiously.“Well, I suppose it could happen. In an organization as large and asrapidly built as this, one might slip through. But you may be sure theywould not stay long, for with our intelligence service, theiractivities would soon be brought to light.”
“But sometimes even high officials are new men, haven’t been inlong—like the doctors they recruit.” Kitty was thinking definitely ofLieutenant Cary, but didn’t mention his name.
“Yes, of course. They have to give a man of that caliber a commission.”
“And right away they’re put into positions of authority where they canhelp the enemy, if they’ve a mind to.”
“Yes, of course. But, as I said, they soon show their colors.”
Her father paused, his match halfway to his pipe as he looked at hersearchingly. “But why all this interest in such things, Kitten? You’vebecome a walking question-box.”
“Oh, the talk you pick up makes you wonder about lots of things,” shereplied evasively. “After I asked you this morning about the disposalof the waste I got to wondering what they do with all the food scraps.”
Her father looked surprised at such a question and repeated, “Foodscraps?”
“I often see the ward boys dumping food left by the patients into bigbuckets.”
“Oh, that. It’s contracted for by a cattleman. Beeson, I believe hisname is. He lives on Terrapin Island, and uses the waste to feed hishogs.”
* * * * *
Next morning Brad came by to go to church with Kitty. As they werewalking home together she asked, “Brad, do you know where TerrapinIsland is?”
“No, but I can find out. Up at the hospital they have some very fine,detailed maps of every island and inlet along this coast.”
“Soundings, too, and water depths?”
“I should think so. I never studied them closely. They were done bysome boys over at the Marine Base—fellows who used to work for theCoast Geodetic Survey.”
“Wish I could have a look at them.”
“Might stir up some comment, Kit. No use to lay ourselves open toquestioning.”
“No, of course not.”
“What did you want to look up specially?”
“I was wondering yesterday when I went exploring if that inlet flowingaround the south end of that island is deep enough to float a sub.”
Brad laughed. “You can put that worry out of your mind, Kit. Any inletalong this coast that’s deep enough to float a sub is thoroughlyguarded and protected by netting at the sea entrance—under water ofcourse.”
“But that’s no assurance that small rubber boats can’t come in forsupplies.”
“Oh, no, nor that traitors from our shores can’t slip out to waitingsubs. And, of course, we know that’s being done all the time.”
“Brad, wouldn’t it be wonderful if you and I could do something to nipthat sort of thing in the bud?”
“Kit, don’t be too sure we can do anything about it. We’re dealing withclever crooks, with devilishly keen minds.”
A few minutes later when Brad paused at Kitty’s door she said, “Can’tyou come in and have dinner with us? Jane always fixes something alittle extra because Dad eats dinner with us at noon on Sundays.”
“You’re a peach, Kit! It really would feel good to stick my feet undera home table once more.”
Mr. Carter made Brad welcome while Kitty went back to have Jane set anextra place at the table.
They were half through dinner when Billy said, “Dad, let’s go boatriding. You promised to take me some time.”
“So you did, Dad, as soon as the weather was mild enough. It couldn’tbe a more perfect day to get out.”
Mr. Carter glanced at Brad and said, “They forget a war’s on, and wehave to use gasoline sparingly.”
“What’s wrong with a bit of rowing?” suggested Brad. “A little exerciselike that would do me good.”
“Wouldn’t do me any harm either,” agreed Mr. Carter. “I sit in myoffice so much my muscles are getting flabby.”
“How about asking Hazel?” Kitty suggested. “She’s been wanting toexplore these marshes a long time.”
“A brilliant idea, Kitten!” Her father showed real interest now. “Wecan catch the rising tide up into the marshes and come back when itturns.”
Brad laughed. “That method will certainly be much easier on themuscles.”
Hazel had the day off and was delighted at the prospect of spending theafternoon out in the sunshine.
“Tell her I’ll call for her at two-thirty,” Mr. Carter told Kitty asshe phoned.
“That’ll give me half an hour to run up to the hospital,” said Brad.“There is something I must attend to up there before I leave.”
“Then I’ll have time to pack some sandwiches and cookies, so we can eatour supper outdoors.”
“Another brilliant idea,” said her father. “We’ll make an afternoon ofit.”
“That will give Jane the whole afternoon off. She needs a rest,” saidKitty, as she hurried out to the kitchen to see what she could prepareon such short notice.
There was a long loaf of Bayshore Bakery bread that hadn’t been opened.While she made chicken sandwiches from dinner left-overs she thoughthow strange it seemed to be eating bread from the same bakery as thateaten by the Nazis off shore. As she worked she wondered also what hadtaken Brad back to the hospital.
Her father had already left in his car to bring Hazel from the hospitalwhen Brad came back and bolted on into the pantry.
“I made a little sketch from that big map,” he told Kitty.
“So that’s what you went for?”
“Thought we might have a chance to look up Terrapin Island while we’reout,” he said. “Come, let me show you.”
He spread a hasty sketch on the dining-room table.
“I’ve been wondering if Terrapin Island is near the place where theyburn the hospital waste.”
“It’s the very next
island, see!” Brad traced with his finger the inletthat swung southwest around Palmetto Island, and farther southseparated Terrapin Island from its neighbor, which they discovered wascalled Mangrove Island.
* * * * *
Two hours later the picnickers came ashore on an island covered withvirgin pines. By subtle suggestions Kitty and Brad had succeeded inheading their expedition toward the goal they had in mind. Mr. Carterand Hazel had no particular purpose but to enjoy the sunshine andbracing air, and so were amenable to suggestions. Kitty and Hazelinsisted on doing their share of the rowing, so the trip was easy forall.
Billy was hilarious when they climbed up the bank to a deep carpet ofpine needles under the towering trees.
“Oh, Daddy, let’s stay here a long time and play!” he exclaimed.
“We can stay two whole hours before we start back. That’s a very longtime.”
“I never saw such magnificent trees,” said Hazel. Her eyes turned hereand there as if she could not take in enough of the beauty.
“And smell the fragrance of the sun on the pine needles,” said Kitty.
“A wise old Hindu told me once that man can gain renewed vitality in apine grove quicker than anywhere else,” Mr. Carter told them.
“Then anybody ought to live forever here,” said Brad.
None of them had ever seen such a virgin forest. There was very littleunderbrush, just the towering pines rising from their thick carpet ofbrown needles, their green tops nodding against a blue sky, with asweet sighing in the gentle breeze.
“This carpet of brown needles doesn’t look as though a human foot hadbeen set here for half a century,” remarked Kitty.
“They’re protected from the sea winds by that island to the east,” saidMr. Carter. As he glanced that way his expression changed. “I dobelieve we’ve landed behind the island where they burn the hospitalrefuse.”
Brad glanced at Kitty, but neither admitted that this was where theywanted to land. Billy picked up a branch for a gun and began to playIndian.
“Do you think this is really Terrapin Island?” Kitty asked in a lowtone when she and Brad strolled off toward the eastern shore.
He took out his little map, and they studied it.
“Can’t be any other,” he said. “There’re smoke smudges yonder. Must bethe dump heap. We’re directly west of it.”
“But there’s no sign of a hog range here.”
“The map indicates it’s a rather large island compared with many othersround here. The hogs may be at the other end. These islands are oftenbroken up by low lands that fill at high tide.”
“Brad, do you suppose this Beeson could be helping get stuff to theGerman subs, too?”
“It all looks very suspicious to me, Kit. Here he is living right nextto where the dump is. We have every reason to doubt Punaro’s loyalty.He’s obliged to have dealings with this hog raiser when he comes to getthe stuff from the galley. You can’t help judging people by thosethey’re closely associated with.”
Billy trailed after them as they picked their way along the easternshore to the island. On this side there was a low bluff. Kitty glancedback to note that her father and Hazel were sitting under a pine insight of their boat. She and Brad continued tramping down the easternshore. When they had gone about a half mile they saw an old negrofishing from the bluff. On stiff-jointed knees he got to his feet asthey approached.
“Howdy,” he said, with the genuine courtesy of the old southern negro.“Y’all lookin’ fer somebody?”
“Oh, no,” said Brad. “We just came out here on a little boat ride andfor a picnic supper.”
The old man took off his battered felt and scratched his woolly head.“Reckon y’all bettah go some’ers else to eat yo’ suppah. Massa don’like nobody in the pine grove. Reckon you see dem sign he stick up.”
They had noticed “No trespassing” signs, but Kitty had thought thatapplied to hunting and fishing.
“We aren’t doing a bit of harm,” Kitty told the old man. “The trees areso beautiful. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t enjoy them.”
“Yas’m, dat so, but jus’ de same boss don’t like nobody meddlin’ roundthe pine thicket. Might set foire an’ bu’n it up.”
“We aren’t going to cook anything. We brought a cold lunch. And if wedid make a fire we’d put out every spark.”
“Yas’m, dat whut I tell him too. I been libin’ all mah life in datshack yonder.” The old man indicated a log cabin in a clearing a littlefarther south. “I ain’t neber sot foire to de woods. But he can’t besatisfy when he lease de place las’ year till I come to lib in dat newhouse behind his.”
“Oh, he only rented the island last year?” asked Brad.
“Yessuh! An’ I has to be powerful keerful ’bout whut I does since hebeen here. I wouldn’t be down here fishin’ me mah ole fish place, ’cepthe gone to town fer de day.”
“So you’re enjoying yourself while he’s gone,” said Kitty kindly.
“Yas’m. I sho’ gits lonesome fer de ole times an’ de easy ways, ’foredis island was a hog lot.”
“Oh, so your boss is the man who gets the refuse from the hospital?”asked Brad.
“Yassuh. I ain’ neber see so much slop since I been born. In de oledays my Massa wouldn’t ov tetched he hand to sich wuk, but not Mr.Beeson. He go fer dat stuff all de time hisself.”
Kitty thought the old man looked to be eighty or ninety. His bloodshoteyes were deeply sunken in his wrinkled dusty brown face, while hisonce-large frame had little padding left on the bones.
“It was nice of Mr. Beeson to let you continue to live here after herented the island,” Kitty remarked, hoping to draw him out further.
“Yassum, but he can’t he’p hisse’f. Massa’s son, up nawth, whut own deisland all dese years, say he won’t rent to nobody, lessen I kin stayhere de res’ o’ mah days an’ lib in peace.”
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_“I Sho’ Gits Lonesome,” the Old Negro Said_]
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“I suppose the former owner wouldn’t like it, if he knew you had beenmoved from your old home,” said Kitty.
“No’m, he sho’ wouldn’t. But dey tells me young Massa done been sentcrost de big water to fight dem Japs, an’ I ain’t had nobody to writehim.”
“I’d be glad to write for you,” Kitty offered.
She was strangely drawn to this old man, not only because of the hintshe had let slip to throw more light on the mystery they were trying tosolve, but because she knew he represented the best of a forgotten erain the south.
“Dat moighty kind o’ you, li’l Missie, but I don’t know where to sendde letter nohow.”
“Is he in the Army or Navy?”
“De Navy, fer sho’. Us fambly always been people ov de sea.”
“Brad, do you have a pencil and a bit of paper?”
“Sure,” said Brad, producing what she desired.
“You give me his full name, uncle—”
“Uncle Mose all de chillun in de fambly calls me.”
“Give me your sailor’s full name and I’ll try to find out where he is.”
“Oh, Missie, if you do dat de Lawd’ll bless you de res’ o’ yo’ days. Hename Charles Whitlaw Tradd. De bes’ blood in all de low country flowsin he veins.”
Kitty wrote down the name and said, “It may take some time, but I’llcome back to see you if I can find out where he is.”
“Lawdy, Missie, hit good to talk to real quality folk like y’all oncemore. You sho’ put me in mind o’ ole Massa’s bride when he brung herhome to de island. You’s as much like her as two peas in a pod.”
“Thank you,” said Kitty, and curtsied as she knew the old-fashionedgirls used to do. “We must be going now, but we’re glad we met you.”
“It do a lonely old man good to talk to folks like you,” he said with arespectf
ul bow. “I ain’t got nothin’ but memories to live wid now.”
When he was out of hearing Brad whistled softly, “Kit, I’ll have tohand it to you for learning a lot from him. You worked your way rightinto his heart and found out plenty.”
“Oh, really, Brad, I didn’t purposely treat him nice just to pick him.I warmed to him the minute I saw him. He’s the real thing.”
“You bet!”
Suddenly Kitty stopped short, and exclaimed, alarm in her tone, “Brad,where’s Billy?”
“Why, I’d forgotten about him!”
“I did too. I haven’t seen him since long before we met the old man.”Kitty ran ahead into the pine grove calling, “Billy! Billy, where areyou?”
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