The Secret of Saturday Cove by Barbee Oliver Carleton

Author:Barbee Oliver Carleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: treasure, maine, mystery, detective, young adult
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2018-02-12T16:00:00+00:00

Now he would at least learn what the trouble was. The boy thrust his fists tightly into his pockets and faced them, waiting.

Slowly, they filed into the store, Willis Greenlaw first and behind him Foggy Dennett, then his brother, Perce, and the others. Mostly they avoided David’s eyes and remained silent. But Willis cleared his throat, and with his gaze steady on David he spoke to the older boy. “Poke, my boat’s down to the float. Fill her up, will you?”

Reluctantly, Poke went outside to the gas pumps.

“Well, Dave. You want Sally to hear this?” Willis began, not unkindly.

The sick uneasiness grew inside David, but he replied steadily enough, “Sally can hear anything you want to say, Willis.”

Willis drew a heavy breath. “Someone’s hauling our traps, Dave. Every single one of us here and a couple that aren’t back in yet, we’re all being hauled. Have been for a couple weeks now.”

David stared at him. Why, hauling another man’s traps was the final crime among lobstermen.

“We know none of us full-timers is doing it,” Willis continued. “We’ve made a living hauling together since we was your age, and we don’t aim to start cheating on each other now. But, well . . . .” Willis walked a few paces down the store, then he turned and came back. “Some of us thought that maybe a kid might not see it that way, ’specially if he was just hauling part-time for extra money.”

Sally caught her breath sharply, and David dug his nails into his palms and fought for control. He was waiting for Willis to say it. Why didn’t he come right out and say it?

But Willis shrugged and glanced at Foggy Dennett.

“Well, David, speak up!” Foggy sounded surprised and miserable. “You tell us your side of it. Maybe things aren’t as bad as they look.” Foggy was asking him to deny it.

Now, now was the time to tell them that he had never hauled another man’s traps in his life, and that he never intended to! But, to David’s horror, the tears pricked hotly behind his eyelids and his throat began to fill. He could not trust himself to speak.

“Maybe you’re wondering how we found out.” Willis struck a match and held it to his pipe. “Well, the bait line knotted different, usually. And sometimes the button not shut on the door. And no lobsters, time and time again, and no bait, either, for two, three weeks now.”

Perce Dennett spoke up. “Those traps are prob’ly being hauled late in the day after the rest of us have got back in.”

For a moment no one said anything, then Foggy added sadly, “You’re the only one of us that hauls late, Dave. And your catch hasn’t slacked off any. Willis checked, over to the hotel.”

“Lately, you’re out more often, too, some of us have noticed,” said Perce.

But I’ve been putting down extra traps, pleaded David silently. And I’ve been hauling steady to meet the taxes on Blake’s. I’ve even been fooling around the cove hunting for treasure.

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