Swamp Island Part 2

"We're not that far yet," Louise replied as she rested on the oars a moment. "Don't you remember--it's a house we pa.s.sed just after we rented the boat."

"So it is. My mind is only hitting on half its cylinders today. Anyway, we're out of the swamp. Let's pull up and ask for a drink of cool water."

With a sigh of relief, Louise guided the skiff to a sagging, make-shift dock close to the farmhouse.

Some distance back from the river, enclosed by a broken fence, stood an unpainted, two-story frame house.

Beyond the woodshed rose a barn, its roof shingles badly curled. At the pump near the house, a middle-aged woman in loose-fitting faded blue dress, vigorously scrubbed a copper wash boiler.

She straightened quickly as the skiff grated against the dock.

"Howdy," she greeted the girls at their approach. Her tone lacked cordiality.

"Good afternoon," said Penny. "May we have a drink at the pump?"

"Help yourself."

The woman jerked a gnarled hand toward a gourd cup attached to the pump with a string. She studied the girls intently, almost suspiciously.

Louise and Penny drank only a few sips, for the water was warm and of unpleasant taste.

"You'uns be strangers hereabouts," the woman observed.

"Yes, we come from Riverview," Penny replied.

"You hain't been in the swamp?"

"Why, yes," answered Louise, eager to relate details of their adventure.

"We gathered flowers, and then met a horrid man with red whiskers! He drove us away from the island before I could get my dog."

The woman gazed at the girls in an odd way.

"Sarved you'uns right to be driv off," she said in a grim voice. "The swamp's no place fer young gals. You might o' been et by a beast or bit by a snake."

"I don't believe the man we saw was much worried about that," Penny said dryly. "I wonder who he was?"

The farm woman shrugged and began to scour the copper boiler again. After a moment she looked up, fixing Penny with a stern and unfriendly eye.

"Let me give you a pocketful o' advice," she said. "Don't fret that purty head o' yourn about the swamp. And don't go pokin' yer nose into what ain't none o' your consarn. If I was you, I wouldn't come back. These here parts ain't none too health fer strangers, even young 'uns."

"But I want my dog," Louise insisted. "He's lost on the island."

"Hain't likely you'll ever see that dawg agin. And if you know what's good 'n smart, you'uns won't go back there agin."

Having delivered herself of this advice, the woman turned her back and went on with her work. Made increasingly aware of her hostility, Penny and Louise said goodbye and returned to the skiff.

As they shoved off, they could see that the woman was watching them.

"We're certainly popular today," Penny remarked when the skiff had floated on toward Trapper Joe's rental dock. "My, was she a sour pickle!"

Ten minutes later, as the girls brought up at Trapper Joe's place, they saw the lean old swamper standing near the dock, skinning a rabbit. His leathery, weather-beaten face crinkled into smiles.

"Sure am glad yer back safe an sound," he greeted them cheerfully. "After I let you take the skiff I got to worryin' fer fear you'd go too fur and git lost. 'Pears like you had good sense after all."

"The only thing we lost was my dog," Louise declared, stepping out on the dock. "Bones is gone for good, I guess."

She quickly told the old trapper what had happened on the island. He listened attentively, making no comment until she had finished.

"'Pears like you must have run afoul of Ezekiel Hawkins," he said then.

"Leastwise, he's the only one hereabouts with a grizzly red beard."

"Is he a crook or a fugitive from the law?" Penny demanded.

"Not that n.o.body ever heard of. Ezekiel and his two boys, Hod and c.o.o.n, tend purty much to their own business. But they don't go fer strangers hangin' around."

"And do they own the island?"

"Not an inch of it--all that swamp's government land. Can't figure why, if 'twas Ezekiel, he'd drive you away from there. Unless--"

"Unless what?" Penny asked as the trapper fell silent.

"Jest a'thinkin'. Well, I'll keep an eye out fer the dog and maybe have a talk with Ezekiel."

Penny and Louise thanked the swamper and paid him for use of the boat.

Gathering up the flowers they had picked, they started toward the road where they had parked Penny's coupe.

The trapper walked with them to the front gate.

"By the way," Penny remarked, "who is the woman on the farm just above here?"

"At the edge of the swamp? That's the Ezekiel Hawkins' place."

"Not the farm of that bearded man we met today!"

"Reckon so."

"We stopped there for a drink and talked to a tall, dark-haired woman.

She was rather short with us."

"That would be Manthy, Ezekiel's wife. She's sharp-tongued, Manthy is, and not too friendly. Works hard slavin' and cookin' fer them two no-good boys of hers."

Penny and Louise asked no more questions, but again saying goodbye to Trapper Joe, went on down the dusty road.

Once they were beyond earshot, Penny observed: "What a joke on us, Lou!

There we were, complaining to Mrs. Hawkins about her own husband! No wonder she was short with us."

"We had good reason to complain."

"Yes we did," Penny soberly agreed. "Of course, we can't be dead certain the bearded man was Ezekiel Hawkins. But Manthy did act unpleasant about it."