The Twisted Shadow. Edith Dorian

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СКАЧАТЬ a half hour later when they settled on a couple of stools at the Whistling Clam with their sandwich rolls and coffee.

      “I’m glad you made me stop and pick that stuff out,” he admitted. “It’ll make working with those kids all summer a whole lot easier. Your library’s okay on its wildlife collection, Judy.”

      “It’s pretty much okay anyway as far as I can tell from just two days,” Judy said. “Miss Leonard seems to buy books as if the budget grew in the United States mint. That library rocked me right back on my heels when I first saw it. You see, my mother was born and brought up here, and I guess I thought the town was still the same—just a hundred year-rounders, not even any summer people.”

      “Well, you weren’t any greener than I was,” Tim consoled her. “The national parks I’d met were out in the country with maybe a general store and a movie in a nearby village. I nearly flipped when I saw Ship Street.”

      “That’s one thing I still don’t get,” Judy said frankly, “why you’re here, I mean. Back at the library you didn’t make Maine sound like good snake country.”

      “But you’ve got to admit it’s swell summer country,” he pointed out, “and who’s a wildlife-management major to snoot any national park job in vacation? Right now I only think I’m a herpetologist. I start graduate work this fall.”

      “Then you’re one up on me,” Judy told him. “I’ve got another year at Barnard before I start library school. I didn’t know about summer rangers, though. I figured you were ranging’ around here permanently.”

      “No reason not to,” he agreed. “Plenty of wildlife-management majors go in for ranger work—only I’d be down in the Everglades where you don’t need a magnifying glass to find a snake!”

      “Why not South America?” she asked. “Brazil maybe. Isn’t that supposed to be tops for snakes?”

      “Got a plane ticket in your pocket?” he demanded, and Judy made a wry face.

      “If I had, I’d use it myself,” she informed him. “My family’s down there and I haven’t seen them for two years! Dad’s in the consular service.”

      But she shook her head vigorously at his barrage of questions. “There’s no use asking me about the place. Jaunting to Porto Alegre and back vacations is hard on the pocketbook. I’ve stayed in the States. Anyway, this summer Dad and Mother were supposed to come home for a couple of months. Now they won’t be back till fall.”

      “The least you could do is adopt me,” Tim said, “but do you offer? No! And I’d make a lovely foster child.”

      “I’m panting for the opportunity,” Judy assured him. “I can’t imagine anything sweeter than you and a couple of bushmasters romping around a kitchen.” She wagged her head regretfully, however. “Only I don’t recommend it. In the consular service you never can tell. Just when everything was legal, zoom, Dad’d be transferred, and considering St. Patrick, wouldn’t you look cute in Ireland!”

      “Perish the thought,” Tim said with horror. “Let’s get out of here before you think of anything worse.”

      The full moon was riding high when they sauntered down to the waterfront, and Judy nodded at the red beam of Pound o’ Tea Light streaking across the silvered waters.

      “I won’t trade views for your gallows,” she said. “There are advantages to living here on the Foreside.” She pointed to a big white house facing the harbor. “I’m staying at Captain Dunning’s. He and his wife took me in because the captain’s on the library board. Mrs. Matt even feeds me, except when I stay through like tonight.”

      “Don’t gloat,” Tim said sternly. “You’ll be on a low-calorie diet next winter when I’m still a fine figger of a man. I know. I’ve sampled Mrs. Matt’s cooking. She gave me a dish full of scalloped clams one night last week when Sandys Winter’s car broke down and I drove him over here for supper.” He cocked an eyebrow and studied Judy critically. “You know, if it’s a view you want, I ought to drive you over to Gibbet Ridge now while you’re still thin enough to fit into a Park Ford. Mr. Winter’s the man who really has one.”

      “What’s so different about his?” Judy asked, laughing.

      “It’s the combination he’s got,” Tim said. He waved his arm at the lobster boats and pleasure craft rocking at their moorings in the harbor. “The twentieth century on this side of him and the nineteenth on the other.”

      Judy looked bewildered. “Don’t stop there,” she ordered. “You’ve lost me. Where does the nineteenth century come in?”

      “In a couple of schooners,” Tim explained, “old fore-and-afters, the Ellen B. and the Flying Nancy, and a clipper called the Golden Falcon. Your Captain Matt’s grandfather was master of the Falcon, and Captain Matt supervised the job of getting the three of them shipshape again for Mr. Winter. They just got towed in and anchored off Bold Dick Beach ten days ago.” He squinted at his wristwatch in the moonlight. “It isn’t ten yet. We still have time to row around them. How about it?”

      But Judy stared over at the Park car suspiciously. Maybe he didn’t wear snakes coiled around his waist but he’d already admitted he drove around with them. “It’s the company you keep,” she informed him. “And if you think I want to see anything enough to take a moonlight ride with Junior, the answer is a cinch: I don’t!”

      “Then what are we waiting for?” Tim demanded. “Sometime you’ll catch on to how bright I am. I actually doped out your reaction to Junior yesterday. Besides, you hurt his feelings and he has to stay in bed.”

      4 • The Ellen B.

      TIM JOCKEYED THE CAR OUT OF ITS PARKING SLOT and they headed back up Ship Street for Gallows Road.

      “Even Miss Leonard’s committee finally went home, I see,” Judy said as they passed the dark buildings on the Mall, “but at the rate this town’s concentrating on Bold Dick, he’ll probably walk’ before the summer’s over! What do you do if you meet a ghost waving a cutlass? Use a silver bullet on him?”

      “And get strung up on their gallows by the irate citizens?” Tim asked. “Any time I meet Bold Dick I say ‘aye, aye, sir’ and knuckle my forehead in a hurry.”

      “At least your uniform’s green, not scarlet,” Judy said with a comforting grin. “Maybe you’ll survive—which is more than the citizens are likely to do before this celebration’s over. Barry St. Leger is even putting on a musical version of Rogue’s Hour, book and lyrics by Runner and Harne, no less. They’re here already. He had them with him in the library tonight, working like mad on costumes and scenery.”

      Tim whistled. “That’s something we see,” he announced with determination. “Don’t make any other dates for Bold Dick Week till I find out what night I can get us tickets. Right?”

      Judy nodded but she looked a bit skeptical. “If you can get us tickets, you mean,” she amended. “This place is going to be snowed. Tourists will queue up outside that theater like the tail of a kite every time the box office is open.”

      “Then I’ll wear my dirk in my teeth and elbow them aside,” Tim assured her.

      “Or you could СКАЧАТЬ