CHAPTER 5 AN OLD SEA CAPTAIN

THOUGH Vevi and Connie called after the boy several times, he did not return.

“Do you think he was real?” Vevi asked anxiously. “We didn’t imagine we saw him?”

“Of course not,” replied Connie. “He was real enough.”

“But why did he run away?”

“We must have frightened him, Vevi. Maybe he had no right to be inside this little house. So when we came in, he waited for a chance to sneak away without being seen.”

“Whoever he was, I wish he’d waited, Connie. Maybe he could have told us how to get to Starfish Cottage.”

Feeling that they had no more right to be in the little ship cottage than the runaway boy, the girls decided to leave. Connie took care to close the front door firmly behind them.

“I wish we knew who owns this cute little place,” she remarked. “Perhaps the owner doesn’t know that the door is unlocked.”

The fog horn was tooting again as the two girls picked their way down the path. Vevi shivered, for the damp air had chilled her through.

“What’ll we do now?” she asked in a discouraged voice. “I can’t even see the main road.”

“Listen!” Connie commanded suddenly.

Vevi stopped short. For a minute she thought her friend wanted her to listen to the wail of the fog horn. Then, she too heard the sound that Connie’s keen ears had detected—a crunch, crunch, crunch of gravel.

“Someone’s coming,” whispered Connie.

The girls huddled motionless by the trunk of a huge hard maple, peering into the mist. Gradually they made out a shadowy, moving figure.

“A man,” whispered Vevi, half afraid.

Through the mist, the figure appeared very large, almost a giant.

The man was very close to the little girls before he saw them. He pulled up quickly, exclaiming with a hearty laugh:

“Avast, there! Nearly ran you down in this pea-soup fog, didn’t I?”

The elderly man had such a friendly voice that Connie and Vevi lost all fear. He was tall, with broad, slightly stooped shoulders.

Walking seemed hard for him, for he carried a stout cane. Perched jauntily atop his head was a seaman’s cap.

“Aren’t you young ladies afraid to be walking alone in this dense fog?” he asked with concern. “You might get lost.”

“We are already.” Connie gravely informed him.

“We’re trying to get back to Starfish Cottage,” added Vevi. “We don’t know which way to go. Please help us.”

“Lost, eh?” chuckled the friendly old seaman. “This fog put me in mind o’ the day we were running from Halifax to New York on the John Horner. The fog was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.”

“Are you a sea captain?” Connie asked. She had noticed that the old man wore a uniform with gold braid.

“Aye,” the stranger chuckled. “An old sea dog that’s coiled up his cables. I’ve been in dry dock so many years all my hinges are rusty.”

“Don’t you sail any more?” asked Vevi.

“Haven’t set foot on a deck since my son was lost at sea. I’m an old salt that’s quit the sea—swallowed the anchor, so to speak. But what were you saying about looking for a starfish?”

“Not a fish—a cottage by that name,” explained Connie.

“Starfish Cottage?” the old man repeated. “Never heard of it, but it must be one of those little places along the beach.”

“We can’t even find the beach,” Vevi declared. “Everything is all mixed up and nothing looks right.”

“Now don’t you fret,” soothed the captain. “Just grab my hand, and I’ll steer you through the shoals. We’ll be at Starfish Cottage before you can say Davey Jones Locker.”

Vevi and Connie felt quite safe now that they were with the captain. They fell into step on either side. The captain noticed that Vevi was shivering and made her put on his warm jacket. After that she felt very comfortable.

Tapping along the gravel walk with his cane, the captain led the Brownies to the paved highway.

“Now, we could follow this road to the beach,” he said. “But I know a shorter way that cuts off a quarter of the distance.”

The captain walked along the pavement only a short distance. Presently he chose a path which wound in between clumps of tall trees. Vevi and Connie never would have known that it was there. Their guide, however, seemed familiar with every inch of the trail.

“We’ll be at Starfish Cottage quick as the wind,” he encouraged the girls. “Now tell me how it was that you lost your way.”

Trudging along beside the old seaman, Vevi related how she and Connie had started for the pond to find a racing turtle. She told also of coming to the strange ship cottage and of seeing a boy run out of the dwelling.

“The door was open?” The captain seemed quite disturbed. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes,” insisted Vevi. “Connie saw him too. We shouted to him to wait, but he wouldn’t.”

“Now how do you suppose that door came open?” the captain muttered, talking to himself. “I must look into it right away.”

The path had become very steep. Vevi and Connie had to step carefully not to slide and fall.

“Doesn’t anyone live at the little ship house?” Vevi asked as she paused an instant to catch her breath.

“Not any more.”

“It’s such a darling little house,” sighed Connie. “I wish the Brownie Scouts could hold meetings there.”

“And who are the Brownie Scouts?” inquired the old captain.

Vevi and Connie told him about the Rosedale Troop and of the good times they were having at the beach.

“We have Brownie songs and we do useful things,” Connie explained proudly. “We have a secret slogan too—its initials are HOP.”

Now Vevi and Connie both knew that the initials HOP stood for “Help Other People.” Because it was a secret, they could not tell the captain.

“I’ll show you the Brownie salute,” Connie offered. “It’s like this.”

She raised her right hand smartly to the temple, the first two fingers straight. The ring finger and little finger were held down by the thumb.

“The two straight fingers stand for the two parts of the Brownie Promise,” Vevi told the captain. “Want to hear the Promise?”

The captain said he did, so she recited it.

“‘I promise to do my best to love God and my country, to help other people every day, especially those at home.’”

The captain said it was a very nice promise indeed. He reminded the girls that they had told him almost everything about themselves except their names.

“I’m Vevi McGuire, and this is Connie Williams. At Rosedale we live next door to each other.”

“Now tell us your name,” urged Connie.

“Why, I’m Cap’n Tarwell. Just an old sea dog that’s lost his bite. I like to walk in the fog.”

“Tarwell?” Connie repeated the name thoughtfully. “Why, that same name was in the old Bible at the ship cabin.”

“Jerry R. Tarwell,” recalled Vevi. “He died at sea.”

She wanted to ask the old captain if he were related to the young man mentioned in the Bible. From the odd way he looked, she thought he must know all about the ship cottage.

Before she could ask a question however, they came within the sound of the breakers.

“Hear ’em roar?” asked the captain, pausing to listen. “We’re almost at the beach now, and the fog’s lifting a bit. By tomorrow it’ll burn off and we’ll have a nice day.”

A little farther on, Captain Tarwell showed the girls a group of cottages through the mist.

“Oh, I know where I am now!” Connie cried. “I can see Starfish Cottage from here!”

Even though the girls were sure they would not lose their way again, Captain Tarwell walked with them to the cottage.

Connie’s mother, Miss Gordon, and all the Brownies had gathered on the porch. They were ready to start off in search of the two missing girls.

“Oh, here you are!” Mrs. Williams exclaimed as Connie and Vevi dashed up the steps. “We’ve been so worried.”

“The fog came in so fast,” added Miss Gordon. “I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Feeling ashamed to have caused so much trouble, Connie and Vevi explained once more about their search for a racing turtle. Then they introduced Captain Tarwell and told how he had brought them safely to the beach.

“’Twas nothing,” insisted the captain when Mrs. Williams and Miss Gordon tried to thank him. “The children weren’t lost really. The fog only confused them.”

Captain Tarwell turned to leave. Vevi took off the jacket he had given her and politely returned it.

“So you’d like to have a racing turtle?” the old man asked.

“Oh, yes!”

“Tell you what! If your troop leader says the word, I’ll take all the Brownies to the pond to hunt for turtles. Blast my barnacles, I will!”

“Oh, may we go?” cried Vevi.

“Tomorrow?” demanded Connie.

Miss Gordon laughed and said she would think the matter over.

That night, the Brownies sat around a fire at Starfish Cottage, singing songs and telling stories.

The walls fairly rocked as the girls warbled:

“We’re the Brownies, here’s our aim,

Lend a hand and play the game!”

Everyone plied Vevi and Connie with questions about their adventure in the fog. They tried very hard to describe the strange little house they had discovered beside the road.

“I never heard of a house built like a ship!” exclaimed Rosemary in awe.

“You say no one appeared to be living there, and yet the door was open!” added Jane.

“And a boy ran out while you were there!” commented Sunny Davidson. “Maybe you imagined it.”

Vevi and Connie became indignant at such a suggestion.

“We did not imagine it!” they declared together. “The captain was real enough, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, he was real,” Jane agreed with a shrug. “But he didn’t say anything about a little ship house. Fog, they say, gives rise to strange fancies.”

Now Vevi and Connie were very annoyed. Jane, they felt, was putting on airs. She wanted the other Brownies to believe that they had been confused.

“Another thing,” Jane went on, “it seems funny to me that Captain Tarwell would have the same name as the one written in the Bible.”

“Well, it’s so!” Vevi declared. “At least the last name was the same. You heard him tell Mrs. Williams he was Captain Tarwell.”

“Oh, yes,” agreed Jane. She flashed a very wise smile. “But did anyone hear him mention a little house?”

“One with ‘Welcome’ over the door?” giggled Sunny.

“He didn’t have a chance,” retorted Vevi hotly.

“Oh, yes, he did,” insisted Jane. “He was here quite a while. You mentioned the little house once, Vevi, and he gave you a very odd look. I think he knew you had imagined the whole thing!”

“Oh,” gasped Vevi. “Connie and I will prove to you that the little house is as real as Starfish Cottage!”

“And that it’s built to look like a ship,” added Connie.

“How?”

“We’ll take you there,” Connie offered. “We’ll take all the Brownies. That is, if Miss Gordon says we may.”

The Brownie Scout leader, who had been listening to the heated debate, smiled and nodded.

“What better way to settle the question?” she laughed. “As soon as the fog disappears, we’ll all go together to see what we can learn.”