_ CHAPTER X. "TO-MORROW IS THE DAY!"
And then it was that Jerry saw that the temporary clearing of the mystery only made things darker than ever. For, why should Tod be rescued in this weird fashion? Why had the man refused to let Tod's friends come on the island? And why, why had Mr. Fulton laughed at Jerry's story--and yet followed his clue in this stealthy way? Jerry, up to his nose in the water, and deeper than that in perplexity, saw that the whole affair was really no longer the mystery of Tod Fulton's disappearance, but the mystery of Lost Island.
So, although he now felt safe from bodily harm, because of Mr. Fulton's presence, he made no sign, but waited there a scant dozen feet beyond the stern of the boat. He heard Tod answer a few low- toned questions of his father, but could not make out either question or answer. He saw Mr. Fulton pick up the oars and poise them for a sweep, dropping the blades into the water to exchange a last sentence with the shadow who stood waiting on the bank.
"Everything all right, then, Billings!"
"Varnish on the left plane cracked pretty badly, Mr. Fulton. I had to scrape it off and refinish it. It really ought to have another day to dry."
Jerry repeated, puzzled, to himself: "Left plane--what in thunder's that?"
Billings went on:
"You won't forget to bring the timer. Elizabeth will get it at the usual place if you can leave it by noon."
"It'll be there, Billings."
Not a word more was said as the boat was swung about and headed out into the stream, save that Mr. Fulton chuckled:
"Old Billings rather had you worried, eh, son, until he gave you my message?"
Tod laughed, so heartily that Jerry, who had watched his chance to cut out into the wake of the boat and hold on behind with one hand, could not himself forbear a little happy ripple.
"What was that?" exclaimed Mr. Fulton, a full minute after.
"I don't know," answered Tod. "I was waiting for it to come again. Sounded like--only
he couldn't be here."
"Who couldn't?"
"It sounded like a laugh--and there's only one person, outside of a billygoat, who's got a gurgle like that."
"Your wetting didn't tame you down any, did it? Who's the goat you had in mind?"
"Jerry King--
well, what in the world!"
Over the back of the boat clambered a dripping, wrathful figure.
"I'll be switched if I'm going to be dragged along at the tail of this scow and be insulted any longer. I laugh like a billygoat, do I? For two cents I'd scuttle the ship!"
But Jerry's anger was more put on than real, and under Mr. Fulton's banter and Tod's grateful appreciation of the attempted rescue, he soon calmed down.
"What was the matter with you back there on the island? We heard you groaning as if you'd green-appled yourself double."
"Groaning? Me groaning? Huh! Say, next time you go bearding damsels in distress and rescuing castaway fishermen, you learn how to tell the difference between a bulldog who's whining to get out and get at you, and a wounded hero. It's a good thing you didn't have a chance to follow up that 'groan'--you'd have
groan wiser."
"One more like that, Tod," suggested Mr. Fulton wearily, "and I think I'll take a hand myself."
"But why," Jerry wanted to know, "didn't you come back home right away--if you weren't hurt?"
"Oh, but I was. You try going over that dam once and see if your insides-out don't get pretty well mixed up. I got a terrific thump on the back of the head when the boat turned turtle, and if I hadn't had a leg under the seat, I'd be in Davy Jones' locker right now. When I came to I didn't know whether I was me or the boat. I had gallons of water in me and--and I think I swallowed a worm or two; the bait can got tipped over--and all the worms were gone-- somewhere."
"But why did you stay----" Jerry began, feeling vaguely that Tod was talking so much to keep him from asking questions. But he was not allowed even to ask this one, for Mr. Fulton interrupted with:
"I got busy right away after you had told me about your Lost Island clue, and soon got a message through to--to Mr. Billings there. When he told me Tod was safe and sound, I thought I'd wait until I had finished some important business I just couldn't leave. That's how it was so late before I got here."
"Mr. Billings came and got you, didn't he?" remarked Jerry, trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice. If they had a secret that was none of his business,
he wouldn't pry.
"Yes," said Mr. Fulton, and made no further explanation.
"But there were two of you on the island after me, weren't there? Who was the other hero?" Tod wanted to know.
"Where were you, that you knew there were two of us?"
"I was all doubled up in that little anteroom where the dog was-- doubled up laughing." Then he added hastily, thinking he had teased poor Jerry far enough: "But I was locked in."
"Why locked in, if Mr. Billings had gone to bring your father? Afraid you'd up and rescue yourself?" Jerry's tone was downright sarcastic.
"No, Jerry--you see, the island--that is," looking toward Mr. Fulton as if for permission to go on, "that is, there's something going on on Lost Island that Mr. Billings figures isn't anybody else's business, and he didn't want to take chances of my nosing around."
"I see," said Jerry dryly. "So of course rather than row you across to dry land himself he brought your father here to get you. It's all as plain as the wart on a pumpkinhead's nose!"
"Now, Jerry, you're getting way up in the air without any cause. I'll tell you this much, because I think you've got a right to know: Mr. Billing's secret really is mine. Just as soon as I dare I'll tell you all about it. But what became of your friend--if there
were two of you?"
"I was so peeved that I forgot all about Phil. It's Phil Fulton----"
"What!" cried Tod. "Cousin Phil. Where is he?"
"Standing on the bank just opposite Lost Island and figuring out how soon he ought to give me up for drowned or hand-axed by a savage female. He may have gone for the sheriff by this time--or the coroner. Better take me to shore here and I'll go back."
Mr. Fulton began pulling the boat toward shore. "How did he happen to get into this?" he asked.
Jerry told him the whole story of the encounter with the Boy Scouts. "They've pitched camp there, so I guess I'll see if they can dry me out and put me up for the night," he finished.
As the boat neared shore Tod began to show signs of suppressed excitement. Finally, as Jerry was about to jump out into the shallow water, being already soaked through, Tod began coaxingly:
"Why couldn't I go on with Jerry, dad? You told me you'd let me go camping with the bunch, don't you remember? And I promised Phil I'd show him the best bass lake in the country----"
"I ought to take you back to town and let Doc Burgess look you over. Maybe the bones are pressing on your brain where you bumped your head. You act like it. But the fact is I
didn't want to go back to Watertown--I ought to chase right down to Chester for that timer. It was promised for to-morrow, and there isn't a minute to be lost. There aren't any falls down this way, are there?" he asked with mock seriousness.
"Come on, dad, say I can go!" begged Tod.
"We-l-l," hesitated Mr. Fulton, "suppose we say I'll let you stay till morning--or night, rather. Then we'll see."
Jerry jumped out at this point and splashed his way to shore. He had a feeling that the two might want to talk without being overheard. Apparently he was right, as for a good five minutes the two conversed in low tones. Jerry tried his best not to hear what was said, but every now and then a sentence reached his ears. But it was so much Greek as far as he was concerned.
He had walked inland a bit, finally striking the narrow path that fishermen had cut along the top of the high bank. It swung back toward the edge, cut off from view by a rank growth of willows. He noticed that the boat had drifted downstream until it now stood almost opposite him, and only a few feet from shore. Thus it was that, as Mr. Fulton backed water with his left-hand oar and rammed the nose of the boat toward the shelving beach, he heard one complete sentence, distinct and understandable.
"It's up to you, Tod, to get them away. We can't afford any complications at this stage of the game. To-morrow is the day!"
"Trust me, dad!" exclaimed Tod, going up and giving his father's shoulder a squeeze. Jerry waited for no more. Bending low, he scurried far down the path, so that Tod could have no suspicion that his chum had overheard.
"Are you coming?" he shouted when he felt that he had gone far enough.
"Hold up a second and I'll be with you. Good night, dad."
"Good night, Mr. Fulton," shouted Jerry in turn, then waited for Tod.
The journey to the Boy Scout camp was made in silence, for Jerry did not feel that he dared ask any more questions, and Tod volunteered no further explanation. Just outside the ring of light cast by the deserted camp fire, however, Jerry halted and asked:
"Thought what you'll tell
them? "
"Why, no. Just what I told you, Jerry."
"You can't--unless you tell them more. They'd never be satisfied with
that."
"I'm sorry, Jerry. I'd like to tell you the whole yarn, but--but you see how it is."
"I don't but I guess I can wait. Only I do think you ought to have something cooked up that would stop their questions. Will you leave it to me?"
"Surest thing you know. What'll you say?"
"That's my secret. You play up to my leads, that's all you've got to do.
Hello, bunch!" he shouted.
"Wow! Hooray! There he is!" came cries of delight from the darkness in the direction of the river, and a moment later the boys, who had been almost frantic with worry over the non-appearance of Jerry, came trooping up. When they found Tod with him, their joy was unbounded. Their excited questions and exclamations of surprise gave Jerry a much-needed instant in which to collect his story-inventing wits. At last Phil quieted down his dancing mob and put the question Jerry had been awaiting:
"How did you do it?"
"That's the funny part of it. I didn't. Tod's dad came along and did it for me."
"I hope he beat up that old grouch----"
"Huh, you got another guess coming. They're old friends----yes," as a cry of unbelief went up, "that's why Tod was in no hurry to be rescued. His name's Billings, and Mr. Fulton used to be in business with him. Is yet, isn't he, Tod?"
"Uhuh--I think so."
"Well, you may know there's fish around Lost Island. Billings is what I call a fish hog. He don't want anybody to know about the place--wants it all for himself. Tod drifts onto the island and the man can't very well throw
him off, half drowned as he is. Then, when he gets the water out of Tod, all but his brain, he finds it's the son of his partner, and he can't very well throw him off
then. There's a girl on that mound out there, and she comes in with a string of the biggest fish you ever saw. You couldn't drive Tod off with a club after that. After the fish, I mean, not the girl. He gets a message to his father, and makes his plans to stay there all summer, but dad comes down to-night and spoils his plans by dragging him off. He kind of thinks he doesn't want all the fish dragged out by the tails--he likes to hook a few big ones himself. I'd got out into the middle of the Plum when I heard the sound of prodigious weeping--it was Tod, saying a last farewell to the big fishes--and the little girl.
"So I swam back. And here he is and here I am, and we're both pledged not to go back on Lost Island."
"Righto!" cried Tod, in great relief, Jerry could plainly see. "And dad asked me to coax you chaps to keep away from old Billings--he's a regular bear, anyway. But to make up for that, to-morrow I'm going to take you to the swellest pickerel lake you ever laid eyes on."
"You mean
bass lake, don't you?" asked Jerry maliciously.
"Pickerel and bass," agreed Tod without an instant's hesitation. "Let's turn in; we want to make an early start."
It was late, however, before the camp was finally quiet, for someone started a story, and that brought on another and another, till half of the Scouts fell asleep sitting bolt upright.
But as one lone boy, the last awake, rolled near the fire in his borrowed blanket, he chuckled knowingly to himself and said:
"Foxy old Tod! Dad sure can 'trust' him. But I'm just going to be curious enough to block his little game so far as I'm concerned.
I'm going to stick around!" _