The Golden Eagle Mystery (16 page)

Djuna couldn’t help giggling. “That wasn’t worth very much, was it?” he said.

“No,” said Aunt Patty, “not much.”

She handed the letters back to him, and picked up her sewing again.

Djuna walked up and down the room, feeling very discouraged. What Aunt Patty had said about the nest egg reminded him of the carved stone egg, the old umbrella top, that had disappeared from his bureau drawer.

“Aunt Patty, I don’t know what’s become of that old umbrella handle Champ found up in the attic,” he said. “I put it in the bureau in my room, and it’s gone. You didn’t take it, did you?”

Aunt Patty looked surprised. “Why, no,” she said. “I haven’t seen it since then. Are you sure you put it there?”

Djuna’s heart sank. He knew now that he would have to face the fact that someone, not Aunt Patty, had gone into his room and taken the thing. But he didn’t want to frighten her by saying so.

“Well, maybe I didn’t put it there,” he stammered. “Maybe I just thought I did. Maybe I left it somewhere else. I guess I’ll go over and see if I left it at Billy’s house.”

Putting on his raincoat, he hurried over to have a talk with Billy.

Billy’s mother came to the door, when Djuna knocked. “You’ll find Billy down in the cellar,” she told him. “He’s being a detective, or something, I think.”

Djuna went down the cellar stairs and found Billy standing beside the workbench there. In one hand he was holding a small square piece of glass and in the other hand he held a lighted candle. He was holding the piece of glass over the candle.

“For Pete’s sake, what are you doing?” asked Djuna.

“Oh, hello, Djuna,” said Billy, without looking around. “Look out, don’t jiggle me. This is very important, it’s got to be exactly right.”

“Well, what is it?” said Djuna.

“It’s to make fingerprints with,” explained Billy. “You know, that’s the way you can find out who committed the crime.”

“What crime?” said Djuna.

“Why, any crime,” said Billy, moving the candle flame around so that it got more black smoke on the glass. “That’s the way the G men find out, with fingerprints.”

“Say, that’s right!” exclaimed Djuna, excitedly. “That’s a swell idea! Have you got any fingerprints yet?”

“Well, I only started yesterday,” said Billy. “I’ve got my mother’s, and my father’s, and Emmy’s. That’s them, over there, those three pieces propped up against the wall. Don’t touch ’em, the smoke rubs off awful easy. And then I went over to the Harbor House and asked Mister Primrose if I could make his, but he said he would rather give me a nickel, so he gave me the nickel. And then I saw Harvey Bohnett and Bonehead, and I asked them, and they got mad, and said if I didn’t mind my own business, they were going to tell my father on me. So then I came home and told him myself, and he said I’d better leave them alone. I was going to ask Phinny Truelove if I could make his fingerprints today, but it’s so rainy I didn’t want to go out. Is it still raining?”

“Well, it’s just about stopped, now,” said Djuna. “Look, I came over to ask you: let’s go sailing, shall we? Let’s sail over to Haypenny Island, shall we?”

“Well, sure, but let’s wait till tomorrow,” said Billy. “It’s no fun when it’s raining, and, besides, there isn’t enough breeze. Gee, I hope the sun comes out and there’s a good sailing breeze!”

“So do I!” said Djuna.

A
S
D
JUNA
and Billy had hoped, the next morning was sunshiny, and a fine breeze was blowing across the harbor. Djuna ate his breakfast as fast as he could, and then, with Champ scampering along at his heels, he hurried to Billy’s house. Billy was already waiting for him at the wharf, and his boat was rocking up and down at the landing float as if it was impatient to start. All the rain water that had fallen into it the day before had been emptied out, and Billy had taken a big sponge and mopped up the last drops of it, so that it was as dry as could be. After Champ had been made to climb into his special place of safety in the bow, the boys hoisted the sails and the boat fairly raced down the harbor and was headed out across the glittering expanse of water.

Although it took them an hour and a half to reach the two little islands, every minute of the sail was exciting, for the wind blew hard, the spray dashed in their faces, and every boat they saw in the distance might easily have been a pirate ship.

Steering in between the two islands, they lowered the sails, then pushed the boat up the narrow channel leading to their secret cove, where they anchored. After helping Champ to get ashore, where he scampered off to explore the island, they went swimming in the cove. Then they put on their sneakers and climbed to the top of Eagle Rock, where they sat until the wind and sun had dried them off.

“I’ll tell you why I wanted to come over here especially,” said Djuna. “I wanted to see if there was anything left of that eagles’ nest.”

“Left of it?” exclaimed Billy. “Why, that pine tree blew down so long ago, there isn’t even anything left of the tree!”

Djuna pointed at the ground below them. Looking down on the island from the top of the rock, it was easy to see that most of the grass and bushes on the island grew in a sort of wide path that stretched from Eagle Rock across to the sandy beach on the other side. Nearest the beach was a little hump of ground where the bushes grew thickest of all.

“You see that sort of path the bushes make?” said Djuna. “Well, I’ll bet that’s where the pine tree fell. Then it rotted away little by little, and the grass grew up all around it, more than any place else. And out there at the end, where that little bump is, is where the top of the tree came, with the nest in it. Eagles’ nests are awful big. I saw a picture of one, once. They’re almost as big as a haystack, made out of sticks and things. I’ll bet that’s where it is, all covered up with dirt. Let’s go and look.”

“Gee, I guess that’s what happened, all right,” said Billy, eagerly. “But there can’t be anything left of the nest, by now. The sticks would rot away, too, wouldn’t they?”

“I suppose so,” Djuna admitted. “Let’s look, anyway.”

Champ had been wandering along the beach, barking at seagulls whenever they flew past him, and chasing after them till he came to the edge of the water, but they stayed well out of reach and just laughed at him. When he saw the boys climbing down from the rock and walking across the island, he hurried over to join them.

“I wish we had brought something along with us to dig with,” said Djuna. “Maybe we could find some Indian arrowheads, or something.”

“Or treasure!” exclaimed Billy. “I’ll bet pirates used to come here and bury treasure! This would be a dandy island for pirates!”

He looked around for something to dig with, and picked up a broken piece of board that had floated ashore on the beach. It wasn’t much use, as a spade, and after trying for a while to dig into the mound of earth which, Djuna thought, probably showed where the eagles’ nest had fallen, he gave it up and threw the board away.

But Champ had decided that this was a very exciting game, the sort of game he liked best. He began digging away furiously with his front paws, at the hole that Billy had started. The dirt flew. The boys laughed at him and started to walk away.

“He probably thinks he’s going to dig out a woodchuck, or something,” said Djuna. “He used to do that, when we lived in Edenboro.”

Just then Champ began barking angrily, and the boys turned around to see what was the matter. He was still digging away at the hole and had uncovered something that looked like the end of a round stick. He was trying to pull it out with his teeth, but it was stuck too fast. Djuna thought that Champ had probably found an old bone.

“Here, wait a minute, Champ,” said Djuna. “I’ll help you.”

Djuna tugged at it, but it was buried so deep that he finally had to get the board that Billy had used and scrape away some more of the dirt before he could pull the stick out. He was surprised to find that it was more than two feet long. At one end it was almost as big around as a baseball bat, but it gradually tapered to the other end, which was not much thicker than a thumb.

“Why, it’s a cane!” exclaimed Djuna. “For Pete’s sake, look what Champ found!”

“Get the dirt off of it,” urged Billy. “Let’s see what it looks like.”

Champ jumped up and down, begging for it, but they wouldn’t let him have it. Taking it over to the cove, they carefully washed off the dirt that had stuck to it, and found it was made of a beautiful yellowish white bone, like ivory. The thicker end of the cane was hollow, like a bamboo fishing pole, making a tube several inches deep. Around and around the inside of the hollow part, at the top, were deep grooves, so that a plug could be screwed in.

Djuna looked at Billy. Billy looked at Djuna. And then they both nodded their heads very solemnly, looking a little scared.

“That’s what it’s for!” said Billy. “That stone egg was the top of this cane!”

“It couldn’t be anything else!” said Djuna.

“But Aunt Patty said it was an umbrella handle,” said Billy.

“I knew all the time it couldn’t be,” said Djuna, “as soon as she said her grandmother was a little bit of a woman. It was much too big for an umbrella handle.”

“Did you find out if Aunt Patty took it?” asked Billy.

Djuna shook his head. “I asked her,” he said, “and she said she never touched it. But I’ll bet I know who it was, now.”

“You do?” exclaimed Billy. “What was it?”

Djuna looked all around and then whispered something in Billy’s ear.

Billy looked doubtful. “Oh, no!” he exclaimed. “Honest?”

“I don’t see how it could be anybody else,” insisted Djuna. “But I’m going to make sure just as soon as we get back. You just wait.”

“Do you think that’s who took Aunt Patty’s boat, too?” whispered Billy.

“I don’t know,” said Djuna. “This cane wasn’t in the
Patagonia
, anyway. It’s been lying there where Champ found it, for years and years. And that’s the funniest part of it, too. It never would have got there if the eagles hadn’t carried it up to their nest, first.”

“The eagles?” exclaimed Billy, scornfully. “What are you talking about?”

“Of course it was the eagles,” Djuna insisted. “One of them must have seen it lying on the ground somewhere and thought it would make a good stick for the nest. When the tree fell, it fell with the nest. How else could it have happened? You know perfectly well that nobody would have brought it all the way out from Stony Harbor, just to hide it in the ground, like that. Do
you
think they would?”

“Well, no,” Billy admitted.

Djuna walked up and down, thinking hard. “No, sir,” he said at last, “that old letter shows that this cane used to belong to Aunt Patty’s grandfather. But the cane doesn’t have anything to do with the reason why Aunt Patty’s boat was stolen, because the cane was buried here long before the
Patagonia
was stolen.”

“Old letter?” exclaimed Billy wonderingly.
“What
old letter?”

“Why, I told you,” said Djuna. “One of those old letters that were in the attic.”

“Oh!” said Billy. “I remember you told me you found some, but I never saw them. If I come over to your house, can I see them?”

“Sure,” said Djuna. “Let’s start home now, shall we? I’m starving to death!”

“So am I!” said Billy.

It took them almost two hours to sail home, and by the time they got to Billy’s house, they were hungrier than ever. Billy’s little cousin, Emmy, was standing on the wharf and ran down to meet them when they reached the landing float.

“Where have you been?” she demanded excitedly. “I’ve been looking all over for you, and I couldn’t find you anywhere!”

“Oh, we’ve been sailing,” said Billy.

“I had a birthday,” said Emmy, importantly. “You just ought to see the presents I got! We had ice cream, too!”

“Oh, boy!” said Djuna. “Is there any left?” asked Billy, eagerly.

“I guess so,” said Emmy. “Mother saved some for you, in the icebox. That’s what I came over to tell you.”

Both boys started running for Emmy’s house, with Champ at their heels. Emmy’s mother laughed when she saw them at the kitchen door. But she gave them each a big plateful of ice cream. When they had finished it, Emmy showed them the presents she had been given for her birthday.

“And I got a nest egg, too,” she said proudly.

“A nest egg!” exclaimed Djuna. “I didn’t know you had any chickens!”

Emmy looked puzzled. “I haven’t got any chickens,” she said.

“Then what are you going to do with the nest egg?” asked Djuna.

“I’m going to keep it, of course,” said Emmy. “That’s what it’s for.”

“What good is a china egg?” asked Djuna. “I mean, if you haven’t got any chickens?”

“I guess you don’t know what a nest egg is,” said Emmy. “Look, I’ll show you.”

Going to the table where she kept her postage stamp album, she brought back a small flat book. She spread it open in front of Djuna.

“There!” she said. “That’s the nest egg my mother gave me! My mother says if I don’t spend it for a whole year, it will grow into two!”

Tucked between the leaves of the book was a paper dollar. Djuna stared at it and slowly grew red in the face.

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that before?” he stammered. “There’s two different kinds of nest eggs, of course!”

Billy jumped to his feet, looking excited. “Maybe that’s what that piece of paper meant, Djuna!” he exclaimed. “It said something about hiding a nest egg, didn’t it? And you said a nest egg was just a china egg. Maybe it meant hiding
money!”

Djuna looked more ashamed of himself than ever. “I know,” he said. “That’s probably just what it meant, but all I could think of was a
china
nest egg!”

Emmy looked from one boy to the other. “What piece of paper are you talking about?” she said. “You don’t ever tell me anything!”

“Well, it was just a piece of paper we found up in Aunt Patty’s attic,” said Djuna. “There was just a little piece that the mice, or the squirrels, or something, hadn’t chewed up. It was about a nest egg, but it didn’t say anything about hiding the nest egg—what it said was, ‘I have put the nest egg where it belongs.’”