  In response to Fred’s knock the door was opened by the little Japanese servant. He stared blankly at the boys and then broke into another of his loud laughs. “Is there any one here?” inquired Fred. The response of the Japanese was another boisterous laugh. “Why don’t you tell us?” demanded John, irritated by the manner of the little man; but the sole response of the Japanese was a loud burst of laughter after each inquiry. “Let’s go in anyway,” suggested Fred. The Japanese offered no opposition to their entrance and when they were within the familiar room they glanced hastily about them, but there were no signs of the man they were seeking. Abruptly, however, Fred said, “Hush! Listen, Jack! That’s the captain’s voice upstairs.” Both boys were silent as they listened attentively to the sound of voices which now could be heard from the upper room. Gradually the captain’s voice became louder and it was manifest that he was either in trouble or angry. To the astonishment of the boys the interview suddenly ended and the captain, rushing down the stairway, abruptly departed from the house. Apparently he had been unaware of the presence of either of the boys. He had glanced neither to the right nor to the left and as the boys looked out of the window they saw that he was walking rapidly toward the shore. “Let him go,” said John, “he’ll have to wait for us anyway.” “I wish I was sure that he would wait,” said Fred doubtfully. “Wait? Of course he’ll wait,” retorted John. “That’s what he’s paid for.” “I’m not so sure,” said Fred once more. “I think the best thing to do would be for one of us to go back and see that everything is all right.” “All right,” responded John quickly. “You stay here if you want to and I’ll go down to the shore and see if anything happens there.” Meanwhile Fred seated himself in the room and watched the Japanese servant, who apparently ignored his presence save occasionally when he stopped and stared blankly at him for a moment and then broke into a noisy laugh. Not many minutes had elapsed, however, before John came running back to the house. “The captain has taken the skiff and left the island!” he said excitedly when he burst into the room. “Oh, I guess not,” said Fred. “But he has, I tell you. He was rowing like mad. He has taken the skiff and left us here.” “We’ll go down to see about it,” said Fred, abruptly rising and accompanying his friend as together they ran back to the shore. “There it is, just as I told you!” said John, when they arrived on the bluff. “The boat has gone and the captain has gone with it.” For a moment Fred made no reply. He glanced in either direction along the shore, and then peered intently out over the water, but neither the boat nor the captain was to be seen. “What shall we do?” demanded John. “That’s strange and I told you there’s something wrong.” “He’ll come back again,” said Fred confidently. “I’m glad you think so,” responded John. “I’m not so sure of it myself.” “It’ll come out all right,” persisted Fred. “Come on now, we’ll go up to the house again.” When the boys returned to the house and once more entered the kitchen, the little Japanese servant, who met them at the door, made no protest when they entered. Once more the boys seated themselves in chairs near the window. They occasionally glanced blankly at each other for there was really no explanation for their presence in the house. At the same time they were both watching the waters of the lake not far away, but their watching was vain, for when an hour had passed no signs of the captain had been seen. “Where is the man that lives here?” finally Fred inquired of the Japanese. The servant laughed loudly, but shook his head to imply that he did not understand. “He knows English, all right, I’m telling you,” said John in a low voice to Fred. “This is getting all mixed up. I wish we were back in Mackinac.” “You are finding trouble everywhere, Jack,” said Fred, although he too was at pains to speak in subdued tones. Turning once more to the Japanese he continued, “Can you get us some supper? We’ll pay you for it.” The sole reply of the servant was another of his unmusical bursts of laughter. Either he did not understand what was said, or he took this method of ignoring the requests of his uninvited visitors. “Let’s go back to the shore,” suggested John. “All right,” responded Fred, and together the two boys at once departed from the little house. When they arrived at the shore not only was their own boat gone, but the boat in which Mr. Button had come had also disappeared. “What do you make of that?” demanded John in astonishment. “I’m sure I don’t know,” answered Fred, genuinely surprised by the double disappearance. “Maybe I’m not Calamity Jane’s brother after all,” said John. “There’s more in this than you think.” Fred was silent, though it was plain that he was puzzled by the failure to discover any of the boats. The Gadabout also was nowhere within sight. “Nothing for us to do,” said Fred at last, “except to wait. They must know we’re here and there’s no way for us to get away unless the Gadabout comes for us.” “Then we’ll have to wait,” said John, “and that’s all there is to it.” Together the boys remained on the shore until at last the sun sank below the western horizon. Darkness would soon be creeping over the land and both boys now were more serious. “It’s plain the boys are gone,” said Fred soberly. “I thought surely one of them would be back here.” “Well, I didn’t,” said John. “The captain was in such a hurry when he started that I didn’t believe he would come back. I don’t half believe we will ever see him again anyway. I tell you there’s something wrong here.” Fred’s expression was serious as without making any reply he looked out over the waters of the lake. The darkness deepened and night would soon be at hand. “There’s nothing for it,” said Fred at last, “except to go back to the house.” “I don’t know what good that will do,” said John, “but I’m ready to go if you want to. This is the strangest thing I have ever been mixed up in in my life. For my part I wish I was out of it.” “Don’t cry, John,” said Fred, striving to speak cheerfully. “I’m not crying,” retorted John, “but I don’t like the look of the whole thing. I tell you there’s something serious in it.” Fred said no more and in a brief time the boys were standing once more at the kitchen door. Again the little Japanese, who had the faculty of apparently being in different places at the same time, faced them as they entered. This time he did not greet their coming with his usual loud laughter, but as he made no protest the boys entered and Fred said to him, “Did you get some supper for us?” Either the Japanese did not understand, or he continued his pretense, for he shook his head, though his expression was not unfriendly. Both boys had suspected when they returned that the Japanese was about to bar their entrance. Either they were mistaken, or he had changed his plan for now he busied himself in his duties about the kitchen, apparently ignoring the presence of the two uninvited guests. A few minutes later both boys were startled by what they were certain was the voice of a woman calling from the head of the stairway. “Mikado,” called the woman, “did you let those boys in again?” Whether the Japanese understood or not he ran to the foot of the stairway and a low conversation between him and the woman who had called him followed, of which neither Fred nor John was able to distinguish any word. “You better give them some supper,” at last she said in tones that the boys plainly heard. “Tell them to go away then. We haven’t any place for them to sleep.” A candle was burning on a little side table in the kitchen and in its dim light each boy was able to see the face of his companion. It was plain to each that the other was now seriously perplexed. However, a few minutes later, the Japanese entered the room with a tray on which he had a simple supper to which by a motion of his head he invited the boys. “Do you see how dark it is?” whispered John to Fred. “Yes,” replied Fred as he glanced out of the window. There were no stars to be seen in the sky and the wind as it whistled about the corner of the little building gave forth sounds that were weird and strange. The boys seldom spoke throughout the meal and when at last they arose, one of them took some money from his pocket and handed it to the Japanese, who served them. Quickly the little man took the money and thrust it into his pocket. No language was required for the transaction and it was clearly manifest that he understood the action of his guest. “Let’s go down to the shore again,” suggested Fred. “Perhaps one of the boats has come in and the fellows are looking for us now.” Both boys ran swiftly on their return but when they arrived on the bluff once more they were doomed to disappointment. Not a boat was to be seen in the dim light. Nor was any light to be seen as they looked out over the waters. Somehow the darkness itself seemed to be startling. “There isn’t any boat here and there isn’t any boat coming,” said Fred at last. “What shall we do?” inquired John. “There’s only one thing for us to do,” said Fred, “and that’s to go back to the house. We’ll have to explain to them why we haven’t left, and I don’t believe that woman, even if she didn’t want us to see her, will turn us out on a night like this. We’ll tell her that we’ll pay for our lodging and I guess she’ll let us in.” Neither boy, however, was confident of his welcome when they once more retraced their way and started back toward the little house which now itself was wrapped in darkness. Not even the beams of the candle now could be seen shining through the kitchen windows. |
|
