Mystery of Crocodile Island (7 page)

Bess gave a little low scream. “Let’s go!” she urged. “Somebody’s going to be buried at sea!”

The others disagreed. Nancy said, “If that box were a coffin, there would be no need for a secret transfer. The freighter could have lowered it into the sea.”

“Then what is it carrying?” Bess asked.

Nancy said she wished she knew that and where
The Whisper
would take the box.

Suddenly the great searchlight was turned off. Then the regular lights on the freighter beamed again and its engines began to roar. Within seconds the large craft started to move northward.

“Where do you suppose it’s going?” Danny asked.

“My guess,” Nancy replied, “is Bridgeport, Connecticut. Remember, that’s where the owners of
The Whisper
are from.”

“What do you think the freighter brought?” George asked.

Nancy shrugged. “Obviously something very secret. Maybe it’ll be buried on one of the keys, like pirate treasure.”

“I think the box contains something they need on Crocodile Island,” George suggested.

“I doubt that they need corpses,” Bess said dryly.

Danny laughed. “Let’s follow
The Whisper.
I’m sure it’ll go back to the island. Perhaps we can find out what’s in the pine box.”

The lights of
The Whisper
were still out, but they could hear its motor running. Danny listened carefully, then frowned. “It sounds as if they’re going out to sea!” he declared.

“Can we follow it?” Nancy asked, excited.

“We don’t have that much fuel. Also, with no lights its almost impossible. It’s so dark now we’d either lose
The Whisper
or run into it!”

“I have an idea,” George said. “Why don’t we return to Crocodile Island and wait? Perhaps
The Whisper
is only making a detour to throw off anyone who might follow it and will come back to the island later.”

“Good suggestion,” Nancy agreed. The young people turned around. After a while, Danny put the lights back on.

“I’m glad we’re getting away from that coffin,” Bess said. “I don’t ever want to see it again.”

George looked at her. “You’re probably right. There was a slain gangster in it, and
The Whisper
is going to dump him overboard into deep water so nobody will know where he’s buried!”

“You’re disgusting,” Bess exclaimed.

George defended herself. “You brought it up, not the rest of us.”

Danny and Nancy were laughing. “George,” the boy said, “you ought to write horror stories. You’d make a lot of money.”

“No thanks,” she replied. “I’ll stick to real mysteries, like the secret of Crocodile Island.”

When Danny saw the outline of the key, he shut down the engine and turned off his lights again. The young people settled down to wait for
The Whisper
to arrive, passing the time by telling Danny about various adventures they had had in the past. However, hours dragged by and nothing happened. Finally Danny suggested that they go home.

“My parents will be worried if we don’t show up soon,” he said “And I really don’t think The Whisper is coming back here tonight.”

Everyone agreed, and Bess suggested that they report the incident to the police the following morning. Nancy reminded her that the authorities would not investigate without proof of their accusation.

“Right now we don’t know if a crime has been committed. We’re just assuming that something illegal is going on and we’re angry at the skipper of
The Whisper,
because he chased us away from Crocodile Island. But that’s not enough for the police.”

When the young people reached home, the Cosgroves were relieved. “We were worried about you,” Danny’s mother said. “What happened?”

The girls reported the strange events, then Mrs. Cosgrove said, “A man called here, asking for Anne Boonton. I didn’t know whether it was Mr. Gonzales or not, so I told him he had the wrong number.”

“Good idea,” Nancy said. “How did he react?”

“He just hung up and didn’t call again.”

For nearly an hour, Nancy, her friends, and the Cosgroves discussed what might have been in the box and where
The Whisper
had taken it.

Finally Mrs. Cosgrove said, “If the people on Crocodile Island were shipping something out illegally, the box would have been hauled up to the freighter, not the other way around. It appears as if Gimler and Sacco were receiving something illegal. But then, why didn’t The Whisper take it back to the island?”

“That’s a good question,” Nancy said and gave a frustrated sigh. “Anyway, I’d like to go back in the morning. Perhaps we can pick up a clue to the puzzle.”

Danny offered to accompany her, but said they would have to wait until noon for the right tide.

Mrs, Cosgrove spoke up. “In the meantime, why don’t you girls visit Mrs. Easton again? I spoke to her tonight and she invited you—said you can come any time tomorrow. Their Indian animal trainer will be there all day and will be glad to show you his tricks. He’s a Seminole from the Miccosukee tribe and his name is Joe Hanze.”

“That sounds great,” Bess said. “I’d much rather go there than to Crocodile Island!”

The others laughed and the following morning Danny and the girls borrowed Mrs. Cosgrove’s car and set out for the zoo.

When they arrived, Nancy rang the front door-bell. Mrs, Easton greeted them and talked for a while, then she said, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy watching Joe with the animals. He’s very entertaining and well informed. Just drive around to the back of the house. You’ll see his cottage. Tell him I sent you.”

The girls thanked the friendly woman and went to the Indian’s place. Joe Hanze was a pleasant man who spoke English fluently. His bronzed face was handsome and his body muscular and lithe. Nancy guessed that he was about fifty years old.

Joe said he would be happy to show off his tricks. On the way to the turtle pen, he asked the girls if they knew anything about the background of the Seminoles.

“No,” Nancy told him. “I’d love to hear some of their history.”

Joe said that the original Seminoles had come from Canada. The reason why they trekked south was not known.

“Maybe it was the weather,” he surmised. “In any case, some of them got as far as Florida and intermarried with other Indians who were already here. My great-grandfather came from Canada. He was a fine hunter and earned a good living on the way by trapping wild animals and selling their hides.”

“Where do your people live?” Bess asked.

“Up in the Everglades. Life there is rather primitive, so I decided to come here when I was a young man and get some education. I liked it so much that I stayed. Whenever I want to see my folks, I just get in a car and drive to the Everglades.”

The group had reached the wire enclosure where the giant turtle lived, and Joe went inside. The reptile poked its head out of the shell and looked at him.

The Indian pulled a little musical pipe from his pocket and played a tune. To the girls’ surprise, the turtle began to dance. When Joe stopped the music, the amusing creature went up and down on its forefeet as if bowing.

“Wonderfull” Bess exclaimed.

The girls clapped and laughed, and Joe said he would have the flamingo put on an act next. When he spoke to the beautiful pink-legged bird, it went over to him and touched the Indian’s lips.

“Thank you for my morning kiss,” Joe said. “Now suppose you do your war dance.”

The flamingo flapped its wings up and down furiously while running around the lawn. At one point the bird soared off and the girls were worried that it might not return. In a few moments it came back and strode about in a circle. Every few feet the bird jumped high into the air and landed neatly a few yards away. When the flamingo became tired of showing off, it walked back to Joe.

“That’s great!” George exclaimed. “You must have a lot of patience to train these creatures.”

The Indian said he loved animals and did not find it hard to work with any of them. “Now let’s go over and call on Lord and Lady Charming,” he added.

On the way Joe stopped at a large toolshed. He opened the door and the girls noticed a refrigerator inside. Joe took out a large chunk of meat that he wrapped in paper. He rejoined the girls and said to Nancy, “I want you to feed this to Lord Charming when I tell you.”

“Is this breakfast or lunch?” George asked, grinning.

Joe smiled. “It’s just a snack. Watch how fast it disappears!”

When they arrived at the concrete wall that surrounded the crocodile pen, he picked up a pole from the edge, then jumped over the fence and walked up to the reptile who was resting on the sand.

“Lady Charming,” he said, “you’d better flip over and not give us any trouble.”

He prodded her with the spiked pole until he was able to flip her over. Now she would take a few minutes to get back on her feet.

Lord Charming was lying in the water at one end of the pen, under the shade of the mangrove trees that hid the wall of the pen at this point. As Joe approached him, he said to the girls, “Notice his eyeteeth and see how they protrude below the gums? That’s one way you can tell the difference between an alligator and a crocodile. The alligator’s teeth are more even and do not show below the jaw when it’s tightly closed.”

He went on to say that Nancy was to throw the meat after he got the crocodile to open his jaws. She figured that from the angle where she stood, her aim would be poor, so she vaulted the fence and stood at the edge of the water.

Joe looked worried. “I wanted you to throw it over the fence!” he said. “But maybe Lord Charming will behave if you don’t make a fuss.”

He tossed a little stone, which hit the crocodile lightly on the snout. At once his jaws opened. Instantly Nancy threw the chunk of beef. Her aim was perfect and the meat disappeared within a second.

Nancy was so fascinated as she watched the reptile that she failed to retreat. Suddenly the crocodile moved its great tail. In a moment it would hit Nancy hard and injure herl “Look out!” George shouted.

 

 

 

WITH a leap Nancy cleared the top of the concrete wall surrounding the crocodile pen. She avoided the swishing tail by inches!

Joe shouted at the reptile in the Seminole language and prodded him with his heavy wooden pole. Finally the creature became quiet and the Indian hurried out of the pen.

Nancy jumped to the ground, still trembling slightly. She looked over the wall and said, “Lord Charming, your manners are pretty bad. That was no way to thank me for the meat.”

Joe grinned. “Crocodiles aren’t house pets, you know. I’m glad nothing happened.”

Bess spoke up. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Nancy. I’m sure I would have been too terrified to jump over that wall.”

George chuckled. “I’ll bet you would have. But then, I doubt that you’d have gone into the pit in the first place.”

Joe stood shaking his head. “You’re some girl,” he said to Nancy.

She smiled, then changed the subject. “Just before I threw that chunk of meat, I saw a man peering at me from among the trees. He didn’t look one bit friendly.”

“That’s strange,” Joe said. “The only other person who works here is Eric, and he’s not around this morning.”

“It wasn’t Eric,” Nancy said. “We met him the other day.”

“What did this guy look like?” George asked.

“He had long black hair, small eyes, and looked like an Indian,” Nancy whispered, not wishing to hurt Joe’s feelings.

“I’ll search for him,” Danny offered and ran in the direction Nancy had indicated.

Joe joined in the hunt, but both of them returned a little while later without having seen the stranger.

“I noticed footprints along the shore,” Danny reported. “They led toward the water. Whoever the man was, he wore a small-sized shoe with a rippled sole. When I reached the spot where the prints stopped, I saw a man in a small motorboat too far away to recognize. If he was the fellow who was watching us, Nancy, he’s gone.”

Joe promised to look out for the stranger in case he should return, then the young people thanked him for the tour of the zoo and went home. After a quick lunch, they set out in the skiff for Crocodile Island.

“Do you think that man was spying on us this morning?” Bess asked while they were gliding along in the water.

“Maybe he was a sneak thief who was trying to make off with something from the estate,” Danny suggested. “When he saw us, he ran.”

“It’s possible,” Nancy agreed. “But it’s more likely that Bess is right. He could have followed us from your house to see what we were doing.”

George looked behind them. “No one is following us now. Let’s stop worrying about him.”

The young people once again passed the stilts with cottages built on top of them, and it occurred to Nancy that they might pick up a clue to Crocodile Island from one of the inhabitants.

“After all, they live close to the place,” she said. “Danny, do you think we might stop and call on the owners?”

“Why not?” he replied, and paused at each cottage. He received no answer to his “Hello? Anybody home?” Finally he laughed. “There aren’t any boats tied up at the posts. Obviously no one is here.”

As they passed a group of posts with nothing on them, Bess shivered. “Every time I think about a cottage being blown away in a hurricane, I worry about whether people were in it or not.”

“I never heard of any,” Danny said. “But did you know that crocodiles were blown here by hurricanes?”

The girls laughed and George said, “Don’t kid us!”

“I’m not kidding,” Danny replied. “The story comes from the Indians. They say that when the Seminoles arrived here many, many years ago, there were plenty of alligators, but no crocodiles. Then, after a terrific hurricane, crocodiles were seen along the shore of Key Biscayne.”