CHAPTER 2 A TURTLE RACE

AT first, Miss Gordon and the Brownie Scouts could not believe that anyone had stolen the wrist watch.

“I must have dropped it somewhere in the sand,” murmured the teacher.

Mrs. Williams and the Brownies looked carefully beneath the beach umbrella. Miss Gordon removed her beach robe and shook it. But the missing watch could not be found.

“I’m certain I put it in the pocket of this robe not a half hour ago,” the teacher declared. “When I went in swimming I left it lying on the sand. Oh, dear, I should have checked the watch at the bathhouse. I kept it because I wanted to keep track of the time.”

“I can’t believe anyone would steal the watch,” insisted Connie’s mother. “Certainly not while we were so close by.”

Miss Gordon declared that the robe never had been out of her sight. “I’ll admit though,” she added, “that during the swimming lesson, I seldom glanced in this direction.”

Connie, who had been poking about in the sand, suddenly shouted: “See what I’ve found!”

The other Brownies thought that she had come upon Miss Gordon’s missing watch. Instead, Connie pointed to a large footprint in the loose sand.

“It was made by a man with wet feet!” she exclaimed. “See, here’s another—and another! Maybe the person who left these prints stole your watch, Miss Gordon!”

“I think not,” replied the teacher, examining the prints. “These marks plainly were made by a bather. See, the trail goes directly down to the sea.”

“And one wouldn’t take a wrist watch into the water,” said Rosemary. “That would be stupid.”

Just then Barney Fulsom, the lifeguard, came over to the group to ask if anything were wrong. Miss Gordon told him about losing her watch.

“It’s been stolen, all right,” Barney said. “That thief gets bolder every day.”

“Then you’ve had other articles stolen here?” inquired Mrs. Williams.

“We’ve had at least a dozen thefts reported during the summer. Several cars have been broken into too, and a couple of cruisers. It’s giving the beach a bad reputation.”

“Can’t police catch the thief?” asked Vevi. “Once when Connie and I traveled with a circus we helped the circus people trap a pickpocket.”

“I wish the Brownies would help me catch this fellow,” replied Barney soberly. “So far we haven’t a single clue.”

Mrs. Williams inquired how long the beach thefts had been going on.

“All summer,” the life guard answered. “Almost from the day I started to work here. That’s what makes it look so bad for me. Folks are starting to shun the cottage beach and use the one by the hotel.”

“The thefts never occur there?”

“None has been reported so far. Raymond Curry guards at the hotel beach. He likes to twit me and make out that it’s my fault so many things are taken here. He says I don’t keep close enough watch.”

“My loss certainly wasn’t your fault,” Miss Gordon said. “I never should have left jewelry in the pocket of a beach robe. I blame only myself.”

Barney told the teacher that it would be most unwise in the future to leave any item of value on the beach. Lockers were provided in the bathhouse for the safekeeping of all valuables.

“Your watch may turn up later,” he said. “I doubt it though.”

“Maybe the Brownies can catch that thief,” suggested Vevi. “We’ll all keep watch for ’spicious characters.”

Miss Gordon felt her loss most keenly. However, she told the Brownies they were not to worry about it.

“Scamper to the bath-house now and dress,” she advised them. “You’ll have an hour or so to play before dinner time.”

Miss Gordon told the girls that if they liked they might use the free period to watch the sea birds and learn their habits.

The teacher did not think to warn the Brownies that they were to stay close to Starfish Cottage. Anyway, she knew all the girls could be trusted to use good judgment.

Now none of the Brownies lived at Silver Beach. Instead, their homes were at Rosedale, a town many miles away.

At Rosedale, Connie and Vevi were next door neighbors. Always they had been close friends, enjoying many good times together even before both had joined the Brownie troop.

Miss Gordon’s unit was a very active one. With her as the leader, the girls had spent several exciting days at Snow Valley.

Another time, Vevi and Connie had been carried away with a circus. However, that had been an accident.

On one occasion the Brownies had taken part in a wonderful cherry festival. At Rosedale, the troop met either in private homes or their own little tree house which had been built in the metropolitan park. If you wonder how they ever acquired a tree house, read the book called, “The Brownie Scouts and their Tree House.”

The Brownies now raced off to the bathhouse to dress.

Connie and Vevi dressed faster than the other girls. They both took showers, washing salt water from their bathing suits. Then they put on their pinchecked brown gingham uniforms with white stitching. On the right side of each collar was a tiny Brownie pin.

Vevi gave her dark hair a quick brush and put on her brown felt beanie. “Come on, slow poke,” she said to Connie. “Let’s walk up to the hotel beach.”

The girls left their bathing suits with Connie’s mother and started off.

“Don’t be gone long,” Mrs. Williams called after them. “Dinner at six.”

Hand in hand, the two girls skipped along the beach. They kept watching for birds but the only ones they saw were gulls.

Before long, Vevi and Connie came within view of the big Beach House hotel. The waterfront was dotted with colored umbrellas and many bathers were in the sea.

An even larger crowd had gathered in a huge circle on the lawn in front of the hotel.

“Why, what are all those folks doing?” Vevi demanded, stopping short.

“Let’s find out,” proposed Connie.

The children approached the group of people, who were laughing and having a good time. In the center of the circle were a number of turtles. The creatures were crawling toward the rim which had been chalked on the grass.

“It’s a turtle race!” cried Vevi. “Let’s watch!”

She and Connie crowded into the front line. A tiny turtle with a yellow painted stripe across its back, was coming directly toward them.

“Come on, yellow!” shouted Vevi. She wanted the little turtle to win.

Instead of coming on toward the edge of the circle, it stopped short, raising up its head to look and listen.

A spotted pond turtle went around it. Vevi and Connie thought it would be the winner. But a moment later a snapper went around both turtles. It was crawling very fast, much like a creeping baby.

Suddenly everyone began to shout. The snapper had crossed the chalk line, winning the race.

Raymond Curry, the hotel life guard, had been conducting the race.

“No. 10 wins,” he announced in a loud voice. “Who owns him?”

A boy of ten years stepped forward to claim a prize for having the winning turtle.

“Ten dollars for you, son,” said the lifeguard. “Nice going! Now remember, folks, we’ll have another race here Saturday afternoon. The hotel again will offer ten dollars to the winner, and a second prize consisting of a free motor boat ride.” Vevi pinched Connie so hard that it hurt. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

“Ten dollars,” murmured Connie. “That’s a lot of money!”

“Maybe we could win it for our Brownie troop!”

“But we have no turtle.”

“There must be a way to get one,” Vevi declared. “Let’s ask.”

The girls sidled over toward the lifeguard. He was busy and did not act as if he wanted to be bothered.

“Well, what is it?” he asked impatiently.

“Please,” said Connie politely, “may anyone enter the race?”

“That’s right.”

“We have no turtle,” Vevi informed him. “How do we get one?”

“You’ll have to hunt,” replied the lifeguard. He spoke rather crossly, snapping out his words.

“But where does one find a turtle?”

“That’s up to you,” the guard returned, shrugging his powerful shoulders. He walked away before the girls could ask another question.

“I don’t like him one bit,” said Vevi. “His name should be ‘Snapper.’ He snaps just like a turtle.”

Picking up a stick, she poked it at one of the turtles which was crawling across the lawn. It huffed up and bit fiercely at the stick.

“Careful,” warned the man who owned the turtle. “That old boy is a biter. The only safe way to handle him is to pick him up by the tail.”

“I don’t think I want a racing turtle,” said Connie, backing away.

“Only the snappers are cross,” the man explained. “They’re safe enough if you handle them right. If you youngsters want to enter the race, better get yourselves a pair of nice pond turtles. Most of them are good-natured.”

“I don’t think Mr. Curry wants us to be in the race,” declared Vevi. “He wouldn’t tell us anything about it.”

“Oh, Curry’s out of sorts this morning,” the man replied. “It seems his son has run away again.”

Now Vevi and Connie had forgotten that Barney Fulsom had told them the hotel lifeguard had a son. In fact, they did not know anything about him, except that he was a fine swimmer.

“Curry and his son, Jamie, can’t seem to get along well,” the man went on. “Every so often, the youngster chases off somewhere for a day or two. It makes his father very angry.”

Vevi and Connie now understood why the lifeguard had spoken so crossly to them. They thought though, that he might have taken time to tell them more about the race.

“I’d give you youngsters this snapper, only I’m afraid you couldn’t handle him,” continued the friendly man. “Better get a pond turtle.”

“But how do we find one?” asked Vevi eagerly.

“Try Cabell’s pond. That place should be thick with them.”

Without telling the children how to reach the pond, the man walked away with his snapping turtle.

“I guess we may as well forget about the race,” sighed Connie, deeply discouraged.

“And not win ten dollars for our troop? Why, Connie Williams!”

“I’d like to win a race. But how can we ever find Cabell’s pond?”

Vevi had sighted Barney Fulsom far down the beach near Starfish Cottage.

“Let’s ask him,” she proposed. “He’s much more friendly than Mr. Curry. I’m sure he’ll tell us how to reach the turtle pond.”