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Updated: May 16, 2025
Swimming ones, yes. Open season any time. Flying ones, no. What is all this?" "Rick saw one last night in the storm," Scotty explained. "That's not all," Rick added. He told of their conversation at the Narrows and of the talk with Orvil Harris that morning. "So there's something fishy around here besides crabs and rockfish. We thought you might know," he concluded.
Then we would swim into the cove and recover the object. With two of us, it would be a cinch to find the fish line." "If the thing is too heavy to swim with," Scotty went on, "we'll hand it into Orvil's boat. Of course we'll pull up the sapling and hand that to Orvil.
A cautious survey told him they were some distance from the creek mouth, and certainly invisible behind the waterlogged trunk and its load of leaves and other debris. He put his lips to Scotty's ear. "Wonder what happened to Orvil?" "We've got to find out," Scotty whispered back. "Yes, but how?" "We go overland." Of course! They were on the same side as the boat, and not far away.
There will be only Orvil Harris catching crabs as usual." Scotty spoke up. "We could make one change, Steve. You could be with us, either in the water or in the runabout." Steve shook his head. "No thanks, Scotty. I have some business of my own later tonight. You carry out your plan and I'll carry out mine." "Is your business connected with ours?" Rick asked.
"Any chance the line may be bugged?" "I doubt it. You might ask Orvil if he's on a party line, though. If he is, be careful. If not, go ahead and talk." Orvil Harris had a private line, so Rick described their adventure in the cove and asked for the crabber's help. Harris responded at once, as the boys had known he would. "I'll come by at half past three.
"If being alive is okay, then it's okay," Scotty said with relief. "But you're a mess, boy." Rick looked up dazedly. Steve was smiling at him, and next to Steve, Orvil Harris! "Glad you're all right," the boy murmured. "Thanks, Rick. I'm glad you finally came around. You had us worried for a bit. And, Rick, meet my cousin Link." A tall, gaunt man stepped forward. "Howdy, Rick? How do you feel?"
"So he's alive," Rick said with relief. "Probably. I waited until the parade went by, then fell in line. They took Orvil into the barn, and I managed to get a look through a window. They tossed him into one of the horse stalls and locked the barn door. I decided it was time to leave." Steve sipped his coffee and made a face as it burned his tongue. "You can imagine how I felt.
He snapped the cover back in place and ran to join Scotty, who was already in the boat. "Gas okay," Scotty called. "Let's go." Rick cast off and jumped aboard. Scotty started the motor and backed into the stream, then turned sharply and headed toward the river. Neither boy spoke. Their sleepiness was gone now, forgotten in their fear for Orvil.
Rick followed suit, and crawled in Scotty's track until he saw the glimmer of water. Then, moving with great caution, he drew alongside his pal. They looked out into the cove through a thin screen of grass stalks. Orvil Harris was crabbing, as unconcerned as though nothing had happened. As Rick stared, disbelieving, the crabber's net swooped.
"Almost gave up hope. You get up late, seems like." Rick glanced at the sun. "Must be all of seven o'clock. You call that late?" "Been here since four. It's late for me." Rick showed Orvil Harris through the boat, then sat with him and Scotty in the cockpit, sipping steaming coffee. The crabber talked willingly about his business. "Not much profit," he reported, "but it beats workin'."
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