The Bobbsey Twins and the Mystery at Snow Page 2

  “They’re surrendering!” Charlie Mason exclaimed, pounding Bert on the shoulder happily. “We’ve won!”

  Charlie leaped to his feet. In that instant, a volley of snowballs filled the air. Splat! One struck Charlie squarely in the chest with such force that he staggered back and fell flat.

  “Down! Everybody down!” Bert yelled. He crawled over to his stricken friend. “Are you okay, Charlie?”

  “I—I guess so,” was the gasping reply. “Just knocked the wind out of me for a second.”

  “What a sly trick!” one of the other defenders exclaimed in disgust. “While Danny’s waving a flag of truce, his buddies attack.”

  Bert examined the hard ball of snow which had hit Charlie. “Fellows, look!” he cried in amazement. “There’s a stone in the center of this!”

  “No wonder it hurt!” Charlie remarked, rubbing the sore spot.

  Bert’s fist pounded the snow. “That does it!” he yelled. “Let’s teach those guys a lesson!”

  Quickly the four boys stuffed snowballs inside their jackets and into pockets. With Bert in the lead they raced out of the fort and toward the trees where Danny had retreated with his gang after the sneak attack.

  The next few minutes passed in a flash. Snowballs pelted Danny and his pals from everywhere, and the trees they tried to hide behind were no protection from the furious barrage.

  At last, spattered with snow from head to foot, the boys in Danny’s group fell back, then ran off in confusion.

  Bert’s attack had been a complete success!

  Danny turned, just outside of firing range, and shook a threatening fist at him. “I’ll get you, Bert Bobbsey!” he threatened. “You’ll be sorry for this!”

  “You’re a poor sport, Danny,” Charlie derided the bully. “We beat you fairly—and without using stones either!” he added.

  Red-faced and angrier than ever, the mean boy again shook his fist, then turned and raced off.

  “Hey!” Bert exclaimed. “It’s after five o’clock, fellows. Guess we’d better head for home.”

  The boys called good night to one another and started off toward their own homes. The skies had grown dark and a few soft white flakes had begun to fall.

  Bert walked rapidly. Removing his gloves, he blew on his icy fingers. “It’s grown a lot colder,” he thought. “And these wet gloves don’t help a bit. Boy, will I be glad to get home!”

  Bert stepped up his pace and was just crossing Main Street when a car pulled up beside him.

  “Hop in, son,” a man’s voice called. “It’s too cold to walk far on a night like this!”

  Bert peered into the car. The instrument panel lights revealed the white hair and lined face of Mr. Carford. “Why, thanks,” Bert replied. “I would appreciate a lift.”

  He started to step into the car when suddenly his foot slipped on the icy curb. With a startled cry, the boy plunged face down onto the car seat.

  “Whoa there, young fellow,” said Mr. Carford. “Not hurt, are you?”

  “No,” Bert answered as he righted himself. Then he patted the seat and felt around on the floorboards of the car.

  “Lose something?” Mr. Carford asked.

  “I thought I heard something fall out of my pocket,” said Bert. “Guess not, though. I have my wallet, and there isn’t anything on the floor or seat.”

  They started off toward the Bobbsey home. Mr. Carford spoke about his horse Daisy and told Bert how fond he was of her. “It isn’t often she runs away as she did yesterday,” he commented.

  Bert wanted to ask his new friend about the mystery at Snow Lodge, but remembering his mother’s advice, he said nothing. Soon they drove up in front of the Bobbsey house where the boy thanked the elderly man, then jumped out.

  Freddie and Flossie met him at the front door. The youngsters were dressed in snowsuits, hats, scarves, and mittens.

  “Going out coasting in the dark?” Bert asked, giving Freddie a playful poke.

  “No, we’re trying to keep warm in here!” Freddie exclaimed. “It’s freezing. Come in and see for yourself!”

  When they went into the living room Mrs. Bobbsey explained that the furnace was not working. “The repairmen are in the basement now trying to fix it,” she added.

  Just as Bert finished telling his mother and Nan and the small twins about the snow fort fight, one of the workmen came up the basement steps. Stripping off his work gloves, he said:

  “I’m afraid I have bad news for you, Mrs. Bobbsey. The furnace is in need of a major part In fact, I’d strongly advise that you get a new furnace.”

  The children’s mother looked worried. “But wouldn’t a job like that take several days?”

  “Yes, and with Christmas coming up the end of the week, the job would take longer.”

  “What would we do for heat in the meantime?” Mrs. Bobbsey asked in great concern.

  “If I were you,” the repairman said, “I’d make arrangements to stay some place else for about a week. We’ve fixed the old furnace temporarily. It’ll last a few days. You can let us know what time would be convenient for us to come back.”

  Mrs. Bobbsey explained that she would have to consult her husband and let the repairman’s office know later.

  In a short time the house was fairly warm again. The children took off their extra coats and settled down to an excited discussion of where they would stay while the furnace was being repaired.

  “We might go to Africa,” Freddie proposed. “It would be warm there, and we could see all the wild animals!”

  “That’s a little far,” Nan teased. “But,” she added, “we could go to Florida, couldn’t we, Mother?”

  “That would be great,” Bert agreed. “I’d like some swimming.”

  Mrs. Bobbsey laughed. “I’m afraid we can’t go either place this time. However, I had a telegram this afternoon from your father. He’ll be home Tuesday. Then we can decide what to do. Perhaps we should go to the Lakeport Hotel as soon as school closes for Christmas vacation.”

  “Oh!” the twins chorused. “We don’t want to spend Christmas there!”

  CHAPTER III

  A SCHOOL PROBLEM

  “CHRISTMAS can be fun any place,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, “if one remembers the true spirit of the day.”

  “Of course,” Nan murmured dreamily, then added, “Bert, come on down to the cellar. We have some secret business in the workshop.”

  “You bet.” He grinned mysteriously.

  The next morning Lakeport resembled a sparkling fairyland. Flossie, running to her bedroom window, squealed with delight. “Oh, Nan!” she cried to her still drowsy sister, with whom she shared a room. “The whole world’s got vanilla frosting!”

  Another feathery layer of snow softened the outlines of trees and houses, and the streets were hidden under the silent white blanket.

  After breakfast the four twins hurriedly donned their snow boots, coats, and hats, said good-by to Snap, the Bobbseys’ big white dog, and Snoop, their black cat, and started for school.

  “Whoopee!” Freddie yelled, running down the front steps and rolling over and over in the clean, bright snow. “I’m a polar bear!”

  “Shh, Freddie!” Flossie whispered. “You tip-toe in fairyland, remember?”

  “Or you get spanked if you let snowdrops soak your school suit,” Nan joked as she looked at her young brother’s wet clothes.

  Freddie gazed about him. The quiet, clear morning did seem unreal. The stillness of the December day was not broken until the Bobbseys reached the school yard. There, pandemonium seemed to have broken loose!

  The sound of shouts and running feet made the twins quicken their pace. What could have happened?

  A crowd of youngsters was gathered around the wide front door of the school, but finally Bert managed to squeeze his way through. Nan, Flossie, and Freddie, also curious, followed him.

  On the front steps stood an enormous snowball—so big that it completely blocked the double doors of the school entrance
. The school handyman was trying to pry the frozen ball loose with a long lever.

  “Who put it there?” Nan asked.

  “Let me help,” Bert offered, and heaved his weight against the mass of snow as the man pushed on the lever. Soon several of the older boys rushed forward to assist.

  But the huge doorstop had apparently been soaked with water, freezing it solidly to the step. Five more minutes passed before the obstruction was worked loose. In the meantime the children had entered the building through a side door.

  Shortly after nine, teachers informed their pupils that Mr. Tetlow, the school principal, had called a special assembly—all grades were to go to the auditorium immediately.

  On their way, Bert and Nan tried to guess the reason for the meeting. “I’ll bet it has something to do with that snowball blocking the front door,” Bert surmised. “I have a feeling somebody’s in for plenty of trouble!”

  A few minutes later Mr. Tetlow, a tall, pleasant-looking man, mounted the stage and began to speak. “I presume you have guessed that this meeting has been called to determine who placed the huge snowball at the front entrance of the building. This prank might have had very serious consequences as it is against the fire laws to block any entrance to a school building. If the guilty persons will come forward now, there will be no punishment.”

  He paused and waited a minute. The auditorium was very still. No one moved.

  “Well,” Mr. Tetlow continued, “I think it only fair, students, to tell you that I have a clue that points very definitely to one of the trouble-makers.”

  Still no one stood up. Mr. Tetlow sighed. “I am sorry the makers of the snowball do not choose to confess, but I shall be in my office all day and will be glad to see anybody who has information about this prank. Assembly dismissed!”

  The children filed silently from the room, but the minute they reached the hall the chatter began. Charlie came up to Bert. “Whoever did it might as well own up,” he remarked. “Mr. Tetlow says he has a good clue.”

  Bert agreed and they hurried off to their classes. At lunchtime it was discovered that no one had as yet confessed and there were all sorts of rumors as to the culprit

  During the last period of the day a boy came into Bert’s home room with the message that Bert was wanted in the principal’s office. Nan looked up, startled, as her twin arose immediately and left the room.

  “What could Mr. Tetlow want me for?” Bert thought uneasily. “Does he believe I had something to do with that stunt?”

  When Bert reached the school office, the secretary told him to take a seat in Mr. Tetlow’s study and wait A moment later the principal appeared, closed the study door, and sat down at his desk. His face was sad.

  “Well, Bert,” he began, “I’ve waited all day for you. I can understand why you may not have wanted to say anything at assembly, but I did hope you’d come here of your own accord. I’ll give you another chance. Is there something you want to tell me about the unfortunate episode at the school door?”

  Bert looked puzzled. “You—you mean about the snowball?” he asked, and at the principal’s nod, added, “No, sir. I had nothing to do with it!”

  “Hmmm.” Mr. Tetlow rubbed his chin thoughtfully and gazed out the window. “I’m afraid I’m led to believe otherwise, Bert.”

  Leaning forward, he picked up an object from his desk. “This knife was found by the handyman under the snowball, Bert. It has the initials B. B. on the handle. Examine it, please.”

  Bert walked over to the desk and took the knife. He turned it over and over, then felt in all his pockets.

  “Is it yours, Bert?” Mr. Tetlow asked sternly.

  Without searching his pants pockets, Bert had known at once that the knife was his. He stared at it, however, with a puzzled frown.

  “Does the knife belong to you?” the principal repeated as he studied Bert’s face.

  “Yes—yes, sir, it does,” Bert replied.

  An uncomfortable silence followed the admission. While he was wondering how his knife could possibly have been placed underneath the snowball, Mr. Tetlow was waiting for him to make a confession.

  “If I could only remember when I last had it with me,” Bert thought frantically, staring out the window which faced on the street.

  “Ahem!” Mr. Tetlow cleared his throat expectantly.

  Bert suddenly stood up excitedly. “Mr. Tetlow, I think I can prove that I wasn’t the guilty one,” he cried out.

  The principal’s eyebrows lifted, but he made no reply.

  “That gentleman who is just passing the school—Mr. Carford,” Bert continued eagerly. “Would you have someone ask him to come in here, sir? I think he may be able to prove my innocence.”

  Mr. Tetlow hesitated a moment, then quickly called in his secretary and asked her to do as Bert had suggested. A few minutes later, the elderly man entered the principal’s office.

  “Good afternoon, Tetlow,” he said cordially, shaking hands with the principal and nodding to Bert “I’m curious to know why you called me in here.”

  “It’s nice to see you, Carford,” Mr. Tetlow replied. “Bert Bobbsey here is in a little trouble, and he seems to think you can help him. He will explain.”

  “What’s the matter, young fellow?” Mr. Carford asked, smiling.

  Bert took a deep breath. “I wondered, sir, if you had found anything in your car last night after you let me out at my home?”

  “Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I did,” the elderly man replied. “Your knife! Remember when you stumbled getting into the car? You must have dropped it on the floor then. Evidently it slid over to my side of the car because I didn’t find it until I got home. What’s this all about?”

  Without answering Mr. Carford’s question, Mr. Tetlow picked up the knife from his desk. “Is this the one?” he asked.

  Mr. Carford nodded, looking puzzled.

  “What did you do with the knife after you found it, sir?” Bert asked politely.

  Mr. Carford explained that he had planned to call Bert after supper and tell him of his find. “But young Jimmy Belton, who lives next door to us, stopped at our house to bring my sister a magazine and said he was going into town. I gave him the knife to leave at Bert’s home.”

  Mr. Tetlow described the prank with the snowball and how Bert had been implicated. “Let’s get to the bottom of this,” he said. Buzzing his secretary again, he asked her to bring Jimmy Belton to his office immediately.

  In a few minutes Jimmy walked in. The ten-year-old boy’s eyes widened when he saw Bert and Mr. Carford. The principal asked him what he had done with Bert’s knife after Mr. Carford had given it to him to return.

  “Why, I gave it to Danny Rugg,” Jimmy replied. “I met Danny near the Bobbseys’ corner. Danny asked me what I was doing there, and I told him I was going to return Bert’s knife. He said he was going to see Bert anyway and would give him the knife. Didn’t he do it?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Mr. Tetlow replied grimly. “I’m beginning to understand what happened. I’ll have Danny in here now.”

  Bert, too, thought he knew the answer to the riddle. He remembered Danny’s threat to get even for the snow fort incident!

  When the bully entered the principal’s office, he had a look of bravado on his face. But when he saw Bert, Jimmy, and the principal glance from him to the knife, his eyes took on an alarmed expression.

  “Danny, did you put Bert’s knife under that snowball?” Mr. Tetlow asked sternly.

  The bully hung his head and managed to choke out, “Y—yes.”

  The principal’s fingers drummed on his knee. “I think you owe Bert an apology,” he said.

  Danny stared at Bert, his eyes blazing with fury.

  “We’re waiting,” Mr. Tetlow said quietly.

  Danny finally lowered his head and mumbled, “I apologize.”

  “Okay, Danny,” Bert said generously.

  Mr. Tetlow rose from his chair. “Very well. Now, Danny, obviously you didn’t place
that snowball on the steps without some help. I don’t expect you to carry tales, but I do think that when you tell your friends you have confessed, they will want to also. I suggest that you ask them to come to my office immediately.”

  Mr. Tetlow shook hands with Mr. Carford, thanking him for his help. The elderly man put an arm about Bert’s shoulder and they left the room together.

  “Thanks a lot for clearing me,” Bert said as he escorted his friend to the door of the building.

  Mr. Carford shook hands with the boy as he left. “I’m always glad to do a favor for a Bobbsey. Remember, you stopped Daisy for me! Besides, I—”

  Bert waited hopefully to hear more.

  CHAPTER IV

  THE DOG SLEIGH

  LOOKING sad and mysterious again, Mr. Carford stopped speaking and walked off.

  Bert shook his head as he watched the man’s retreating figure. “I can’t make him out,” he mused. “He acts so nice and friendly, then all at once he seems to close up.” Still puzzled by Mr. Carford’s strange behavior, Bert returned to his classroom.

  When school was over, he and Charlie Mason walked out together. As they passed the principal’s office, Charlie pointed to a group of boys filing into the room. “They’re the same ones who were in Danny’s gang yesterday at the snow fort,” he said.

  “Every one of them,” Bert agreed. “I’m glad they’re owning up.”

  Charlie chuckled. “It must have been a lot of work, making that snowball,” he said. “And just to get even with you! I’m afraid Danny’ll be a long time getting over this, Bert. Better be on the lookout for more mean tricks.”

  Nan caught up to Bert a couple of blocks from home and listened eagerly to his account of the scene in the school office.

  “When I thanked Mr. Carford for coming to my rescue,” Bert concluded, “he said he was always glad to do a favor for a Bobbsey. But the strange thing was that he looked so odd when he said it.”

  “That is queer,” Nan agreed. “I can’t wait for Dad to come home so we can learn what this Snow Lodge mystery really is all about. Maybe there’s some way we can help Mr. Carford.”