The Corner House Girls on Palm Island Part 23

Neale rolled off, scrambled to his feet, and began to examine the marks on the turtle's back.

"You're right they are!" he exclaimed. "We aren't the first folks that have made a pet of this fellow."

"Pet!" repeated Ruth, scornfully.

"What does it say?" cried Agnes.

"Perhaps he carries his calling card with him," announced Neale O'Neil.

Dot stopped crying and Tess and she came nearer to the turtle. The creature, as though realizing that it was foiled in its first attempt to reach the sea, had stopped. They could all see the deep scratches on the sh.e.l.l. They looked like this:

CRISTOFO COLUMBO 1492

"Well, of all things!" gasped Ruth, when she had gained a complete understanding of what the inscription on the turtle's sh.e.l.l meant.

"Is that his name?" asked Dot. "Cristuff-tuff--Why! And there is his number!"

"I wonder if that is his street number or his telephone?" chuckled Neale.

"Don't be ridiculous!" exclaimed Agnes, quite in earnest. "What do you suppose it means, Ruth?"

"It seems awfully funny," observed the oldest Kenway girl. "'Christopher Columbus, 1492.' It's not possible."

"One thing sure," said Neale dryly: "They spelled just as poorly in those days as they do now."

"It can't be possible!" exclaimed Agnes.

"I remember Christopher Columbus," said Tess practically. "We learned about him at school."

"So we did!" shouted Dot, with sudden energy. "You know-'First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his coun-tri-men!'"

"Pshaw!" exclaimed Tess. "That was George Was.h.i.+ngton, Dot."

"Well, it is a most remarkable thing," Ruth said. "Can't we keep him to show Mr. Howbridge and Luke?"

"Sure will," declared Neale. "Wait till I drive him up above highwater mark. And into the shade, too; for this sun would dry him to powder, seems to me, in an hour. I'll turn him over in the shade and then let's all take a swim. It should be safe enough in the pool where the _Isobel_ is anch.o.r.ed."

"I'd like to know how you think we girls are going to go bathing, Neale O'Neil, when we haven't any bathing suits with us?" complained Agnes.

"I'll lend you mine," grinned her boy friend. "But isn't there anything you girls can wear?"

"I'd like a dip," sighed Ruth. "We can let the children go in with you boys. And then Agnes and I will take our turn by ourselves."

"You think of so many nice things, Neale," said Agnes. "Why can't you invent us some bathing suits?"

"I might paint the lily and adorn the rose," grumbled Neale O'Neil. "But I am no modiste. I-guess-not!"

However, after the heat of the day was over they all found means of getting a cool dip. Meanwhile they compared notes. Neale had supplied a most excellent stew of turtle meat, for they had plenty of seasoning, and he had likewise discovered specimens of the plantain, the fruit of which added to the variety of the repast. He was acclaimed a wonderful chef by all.

On the part of Mr. Howbridge and Luke, although they bore upon their hands and faces plentiful marks of toil in grease and s.m.u.t, they could not report that much progress had been made in repairing the engine.

That matter really seemed almost hopeless.

"But there is something of even greater importance," Mr. Howbridge said the next morning to Neale and Luke. "I am worried about the water question."

"What fell day before yesterday, I suppose, was soon burned up," Luke reflected.

"You said it," agreed Neale.

So, following the usual siesta, for n.o.body could work even at this time of year in the full heat of the sun, the boys and Mr. Howbridge set off through the brush to sound every likely spot for water, leaving the girls at the dish-was.h.i.+ng. They did not have a shovel but they had a broken oar and sticks with which to prod the ground for any dampness that might promise a living spring.

The smaller girls were by this time anxious to run about again. They were much interested in "Mr. Methuselah," as Neale had dubbed the big turtle on which had been engraved by somebody the name of the discoverer of America and the correct date of that discovery.

"But it makes him awfully old," Tess said gravely. "How old does it make the turtle, Ruth?"

"Well," said the older sister, "if we are to believe that Christopher Columbus carved his name and the date on that turtle when he first came to these islands, it must have been more than four and a quarter centuries ago."

"O-oo!" gasped Dot. "That's awful old, isn't it?"

"And the turtle must have been pretty big when the carving was done,"

laughed Ruth. "It takes a couple of hundred years for them to gain full size, I believe."

"What a joke!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Agnes. "Then this turtle would be at least six hundred years old right now."

"It would seem so," agreed Ruth.

"I guess he must be," said Tess gravely. "He looks that old. He is the oldest looking thing I ever saw."

Just then Neale gave a shout, and called to them. The four Corner House girls responded by hurrying to the spot where Neale had come out of the shrubs.

"Here's another!" he cried.

"Another what?" demanded Agnes.

But she saw what he referred to the next moment. Neale was dancing in front of a big turtle and poking it with his stick to keep it from descending the beach to the sea.

"Come on!" Neale cried. "Here's another one with his calling card on his back."

"You don't mean it!" cried Ruth. "Is he dated, too? Is it Amerigo Vespucci?"

"Wait! This fellow will keep going. There must have been some practical jokers in this neighborhood. Look, Agnes! What are those letters?"

"For goodness' sake!" gasped Ruth.

But Agnes, almost choked with laughter, spelled out the following inscription on the turtle's sh.e.l.l:

JULES CESAR B. C. 48

"Four years before Caesar died," exclaimed Ruth, casting back in her mind to ancient history lessons.