CONNIE’S declaration that Raymond Curry should be arrested as a thief astonished Miss Gordon and Mrs. Williams.
However, after asking a few questions, they were convinced that there was no mistake. Captain Tarwell also had heard Vevi and Connie make the accusation.
“It doesn’t surprise me—not one whit!” he announced. “I’ve had my eye on that young fellow all season. If I could have dug up proof, he’d have been thrown in irons long ago.”
“But he’s a lifeguard at the hotel,” murmured Miss Gordon. “It hardly seems possible he’d stoop to such a low thing.”
“I’ve been watching him for quite a while but never could catch him at it,” replied the captain. “Jamie himself gave me a clue, not meaning to, of course. I’ve felt mighty sorry for that lad. That was why I let him sleep in my cabin after he ran away.”
“Then you knew it all the time!” exclaimed Vevi.
“Aye, I guessed the lad was there. I’d have sent him packing back to his father, but I couldn’t make up my mind Jamie ought to be returned without Juvenile Court looking into the situation. So I arranged for him to get a job for a few days with Mr. Green.”
“What’s to be done about Raymond Curry?” asked Mrs. Williams.
She told the captain she felt that even if it could not be proven he had stolen anything, he should be severely punished for setting the Adventurer adrift.
“Aye, and he shall be,” promised the captain grimly. “It’s plain he figured by untying the boat, he’d gain time enough to get out of town.”
In the glare of sunlight, the old seaman studied his watch.
“It’s only 7:35,” he announced. “That gives him roughly forty-five minutes start.”
Now both Vevi and Connie were amazed to learn that so little time had elapsed. They were certain they had spent hours in the drifting boat. “Curry couldn’t catch a train out of Silver Beach at this hour,” went on the captain. “He has no car. My guess is he’d head for the airport. A westbound plane is due out at 7:55.”
“Then we’ll never stop him!” gasped Mrs. Williams.
“Maybe we can if we move fast,” replied the captain. “I’ll take this little boat in and call police. The rest of you follow in Mrs. Allison’s cruiser.”
This plan suited everyone except Vevi and Connie. After their unpleasant experience, they would have felt safer in the captain’s boat.
The old seaman waited only long enough to make sure Mrs. Allison could start the Adventurer’s powerful motor. Then he headed for shore in the smaller boat, traveling at top speed.
Once the engine of the Adventurer began to purr, the cruiser no longer drifted. Mrs. Allison headed it so that the waves would not slap so hard.
“Shall we go on with our morning cruise or return to shore?” she asked the Brownies.
Jane was all for continuing the ride. The other Brownies, however, voted to return to the wharf.
“Never mind,” Mrs. Allison said to Jane. “Later in the day we’ll have our cruise. Just now we’re anxious to learn what has become of Raymond Curry.”
Events moved very rapidly, once the Brownie Scouts were ashore.
However, it was more than two hours later before the girls learned all the details of what happened at the airport.
Shortly before noon, Captain Tarwell reappeared on the beach to report that police had arrested Mr. Curry as he prepared to board a plane west.
“He denied everything,” the captain told the Brownies. “But in searching his luggage, police came upon valuables taken from one of the cruisers. They also found a pawnticket which has been redeemed.”
The seaman then showed Miss Gordon the wristwatch she had lost on the beach.
“Mr. Curry pawned it for a trifling sum, along with several other items,” Captain Tarwell explained. “You can identify the watch?”
“Oh, yes, it is mine! I’m so happy to get it back again. But what of Mr. Curry?”
“He is under arrest. In searching his luggage police found his bathing trunks. A deep inside pocket had been sewed into them. It provided a pouch where Curry could carry small items. Sometimes, he swam off with them. At other times, if carrying articles that might be damaged by water, he merely walked back to the hotel.”
“And because he was the lifeguard there, no one suspected him of wrong doing!”
“Connie and I did!” interposed Vevi quickly. “We saw him trying to break into cars last night on the beach. Only then we weren’t sure what he was doing.”
Miss Gordon asked Captain Tarwell what was to become of Jamie.
“The court will direct his future. For the time being, he’ll stay on with Mr. Green, helping with the birds. By fall, when it’s time for the lad to start school, I’m hoping the court will turn him over to me. I’d like to adopt the boy and make a home for him at the cottage. Time I’m opening that place and forgetting the past.”
“I guess Mr. Curry never would have been caught if it hadn’t been for Snow White,” Vevi declared proudly. “I guess that bird proved he was some good after all!”
“He certainly did,” agreed the captain heartily. “Oh, yes, Vevi, I have a message for you from Mr. Green.”
“For me?”
“Aye, he said to tell you not to worry about Snow White anymore. He’ll keep him at the loft with his other pigeons. Even if he never proves to be a fast racer, he’ll always give him a home.”
“He’ll be known as a hero pigeon, won’t he?” Vevi laughed. “That’s a lot more important than winning a race.”
Her mention of a race reminded the Brownies of the turtle contest which had been scheduled for that afternoon. With Mr. Curry under arrest, they were quite certain it never would be held.
“I guess the Brownies won’t have their chance to win prize money,” sighed Sunny. “We need cash badly in our treasury too.”
Directly after lunch, Mrs. Allison took the Brownies for a long ride in her cabin cruiser. While they were aboard, she showed them a fine collection of shells she had gathered the previous winter in Florida.
The shells were larger and more beautiful than any the Brownies had in their collection.
“I want you girls to have them for your exhibition tomorrow at the cottage,” Mrs. Allison declared. “Furthermore, you may keep them after the show is over.”
Now it seemed to the Brownies that everyone was trying to help them.
“It’s our motto ‘Help Other People,’ working for us!” Rosemary laughed. “I guess that was because we helped other folks first.”
When the Brownies returned from the cruise, another pleasant surprise awaited them.
Mr. Fulsom told the girls that the turtle race was to be held on the hotel lawn just as scheduled.
“The hotel people have asked me to run it off for them,” he added. “From now on I’m to work there as a lifeguard. I’ll take Raymond Curry’s place and make a much better salary.”
The Brownies were sorry to know that their friend no longer would be at the cottage beach. Of course, it did not really matter, for after Sunday they would be in Rosedale again. They were happy that he was to have a better job, and especially pleased that the turtle race was to be run.
“How soon does it start?” Vevi demanded, fairly beside herself with excitement.
“Sharp at two o’clock.”
“It’s almost that now,” Vevi gasped. “I must get Clover right away. I hope he’s feeling well.”
All the Brownies ran with her to the cottage to fetch the turtle. When they lifted Clover out of the pan, he snapped and tried to get away.
“He’s feeling well, all right!” laughed Vevi.
By the time the Brownies reached the hotel lawn, many other children had gathered there. Nearly everyone had a turtle to race.
A large white circle had been drawn on the grass. Mr. Fulsom explained the rules. He said the turtles would start from the center of the ring. The one which first crossed the chalk line would be declared the winner.
All the children, including Vevi, carried their entries to the center of the ring. After the turtles were set down on the grass, Mr. Fulsom told the children to step back.
“You may cheer your favorite,” he said, “but no one must frighten a turtle.”
Now a turtle race was much slower than the Brownies had expected. The entries did not start off very fast. Some of the turtles didn’t seem to know they were in a race. A few failed to move.
“Come on Clover!” shouted Connie.
The snapper started to crawl very fast toward the sea.
At the same time, several other turtles moved in other directions toward the chalk line. A turtle with the name “Elmer” painted on its shell, crawled even faster than Clover.
“Look at him go,” said Jane anxiously. “He’s going to win!”
“Come on, Clover!” pleaded Vevi. “Come on!”
In her excitement she jumped up and down, clapping her hands. So much noise seemed to frighten Clover. He halted and twisted his long neck, looking at the crowd.
“Oh, he’s stopped,” groaned Connie. “Now we’ll never win!”
“I’ll give him a push!” cried Jane.
Vevi seized her hand, holding her back. “No! That’s against the rules! He’ll be put out of the race entirely if you do.”
“Anyway, Elmer has stopped too!” exclaimed Rosemary. “That other turtle called Pete is ahead now.”
For the next few minutes, it was hard to tell which turtle was winning. First one would crawl and then another. Sometimes they would go very fast toward the finish line and then slow down.
“Clover never will win,” Jane said in despair. “He’s too lazy.”
“He is not,” Vevi defended her entry. “Look at him go now! Why, he’s almost running!” It was true. Clover had suddenly come to life again. He crawled faster and faster toward the finish line.
On the opposite side of the circle, Elmer also was moving rapidly. No one could tell which turtle would reach the chalk line first.
“Elmer wins—” the lifeguard started to say, and then he corrected himself. The turtle had stopped short just a half inch from the finish line.
“Clover is the winner!” Mr. Fulsom shouted. “An entry by the Brownie Scouts of Rosedale!”
Vevi ran to recapture Clover before he reached the water. He did not want to be picked up and tried to snap at her.
“Let him go, Vevi,” urged Connie, running up. “He wants to be free.”
“And you can’t take him with you to Rosedale,” added Rosemary, joining the girls.
Vevi held Clover for a minute, hating to let him go. She knew though, that Connie and Rosemary were right.
Without a word, she set the turtle on the grass. He crawled very fast down the slope, across the sand and into the water.
“Goodbye, Clover,” Vevi said then. “Maybe next summer, if the Brownies come here again, we’ll find you once more.”
Mr. Fulsom gave Miss Gordon a ten dollar bill for the Brownie organization. She promised the girls to keep it safe until it could be put in the bank at Rosedale.
After the turtle race the Brownie Scouts had a great deal of work to do. Not only was it necessary to pack their suitcases, but they also had to fix their shell exhibition at the ship cottage.
“The Brownies aren’t too well known at Silver Beach,” Connie said anxiously to her mother. “Do you think anyone will come to our show tomorrow?”
“I’m sure they will,” replied Mrs. Williams. “Besides, the Brownies are better known than you think. You see, the newspapers carried stories of your adventure and Vevi’s aboard the cruiser.”
Early Sunday morning after church, the girls were at the cottage ready for visitors. Their shells all had been neatly classified and arranged in attractive patterns on tables.
“It will be awful if we’ve gone to so much trouble and no one comes,” sighed Sunny. “I couldn’t bear it.”
Just then a car drove up. Mrs. Allison was at the wheel, but with her were several ladies.
“At least we’ll have someone!” laughed Sunny, greatly relieved.
After that a number of friends Miss Gordon had made at the beach began to arrive. Mr. Fulsom came, bringing two other men. Then there followed a steady stream of visitors, persons the Brownies never before had seen or knew only slightly.
“I guess everyone at Silver Beach heard about our exhibition!” Jane declared happily.
“Everyone except Captain Tarwell,” said Vevi. “I thought he would surely come.”
The afternoon wore on and still the old seaman did not appear. All the Brownies were disappointed, for more than anyone else, they wanted him to see their shells.
“We may as well put everything away,” Jane said at last. “It’s getting late.”
“Let’s wait just a few more minutes,” pleaded Vevi. “I’m sure Captain Tarwell will come.”
“I think he will too,” agreed Miss Gordon. “We can’t wait too long though. Now, does the organization have any unfinished business, anything to be done before we leave Silver Beach?”
“Vevi never gave her bird report,” Jane reminded the group.
“You would bring that up,” muttered Vevi.
She felt rather annoyed at Jane. That was because she had forgotten all about making a report, and did not know of a bird she could tell about.
“Vevi’s worse than a tail-ender!” Jane teased. “She doesn’t have any report. Today’s the last chance to make it too.”
“Who says I haven’t a report?” Vevi retorted. “Just wait!”
“That’s what you always say!” twitted Jane.
“I’ll give my report in just a minute,” Vevi said, stalling for time. “First, I want to see if Captain Tarwell is coming.”
Quickly, she ran out of the cottage. Now Vevi hoped that outdoors she might see a bird upon which she could report.
Not a bird was to be seen. As luck would have it though, Captain Tarwell came walking up the path.
“Am I too late for the big show?” he inquired.
“Oh, no, you’re just in time,” Vevi told him.
Captain Tarwell noticed the little girl’s downcast face.
“Storm clouds?” he chuckled. “What’s the trouble, Vevi? Have you lost one of your pets?”
Vevi told him then how Jane was teasing her because she had been unable to make her bird report.
“I’ve thought and thought and I can’t think of a single one the other girls haven’t told about,” she said sadly. “I guess I’m just no good.”
“Now if I were a little girl with a report to make, I’d use my eyes,” chuckled the captain. “I’d tell about a bird that lives in this very cottage.”
“Here?” Vevi asked in disbelief. “Oh, I’m sure you must be mistaken, Captain Tarwell. No bird except Snow White ever lived here.”
“No?” inquired the old seaman.
Without saying more, he raised his eyes to gaze up into the sky. Vevi saw then that he was watching a short, fat bird that was wheeling overhead.
Its wings were beating swiftly and in such stiff fashion that the creature appeared to be a mechanical toy rather than living.
As Vevi watched, the bird dived down into the chimney of the cottage.
“Oh, won’t it be killed?” Vevi asked anxiously.
“Not that bird,” answered the captain. “A chimney swift always builds its nest in a chimney. I’ll tell you all about it.”
The old seaman recounted everything he knew about the bird, which was a great deal, indeed.
“Oh, thank you!” Vevi said gratefully. “Now I’ll be able to make my report!”
She raced into the cottage ahead of the captain to tell the Brownies what she had learned.
“My bird lives right here in the chimney!” she declared. “He’s soot colored. He’s called a swift because he’s so fast on the wing. When he eats insects he keeps his mouth wide open, snapping at them as he flies through the air.”
“Where did you learn all that so fast?” Jane demanded suspiciously.
“The chimney swift is the most active in cloudy weather and in the evening,” Vevi recited. “Their nests are cup-shaped, made of tiny twigs. There’s one in the chimney now!”
“Why, Vevi, that’s a fine report,” praised Miss Gordon.
“But it’s not about a water bird,” Jane insisted. “It doesn’t count.”
Vevi did not know what to say. Captain Tarwell came to her rescue.
“Many’s the time I’ve seen a swift dip down into the surface of the water in full flight,” he informed the group. “The creature feeds on the wing, drinks on the wing and bathes that way too.”
“So I guess that makes it a water bird!” Vevi declared triumphantly. “Doesn’t it, Miss Gordon?”
“I’m inclined to accept the report,” smiled the teacher. “Besides, Vevi has produced two live birds, one on the beach, and now another in our chimney.”
“Vevi helped the Brownie Scouts win ten dollars too,” Connie reminded the girls.
“She found a home for Snow White when his owner didn’t think he wanted to keep the pigeon,” added Rosemary.
“And she found a son for me,” said Captain Tarwell quietly. He went on to explain: “It’s just been decided that Jamie will live with me here at the cottage. Frankly, I never would have reopened my home if it hadn’t been for Vevi, Connie and all the Brownies.”
“Vevi’s really our Brownie of the Day,” laughed Connie, very proud of her friend.
“She deserves a Brownie salute!” cried Sunny. “Let’s give it to her.”
The girls clustered about Vevi. Smartly they raised their right hands to their temples, two fingers extended. Vevi returned the salute.
“Speech! Speech!” teased the Brownies.
“I—I don’t know what to say,” mumbled Vevi, deeply embarrassed. “Isn’t it nice being chosen Brownie of the Day?” prompted Connie.
“Oh, yes,” laughed Vevi. “I’d rather be a Brownie forever though! That’s because it’s the nicest organization in the whole wide world!”
THE END
Transcriber’s Note:
Punctuation has been standardized; inconsistent spelling retained. Changes to the original publication have been made as follows: