Mark Tidd's Citadel

by Clarence Budington Kelland

“Nor me,” says Plunk.

I didn’t exactly grin with joy at the thought of it myself, but what could we do about it?

“Let’s set a watch,” says Binney. “Take turns.”

“Shucks!” says Mark.

But Binney stuck to it, and Plunk sided with him. So did I. We drew matches to see who would watch first and I got the short one. The other fellows piled into bed and I wrapped myself up in a quilt and sat in a chair, shivering and pretty lonesome, I can tell you, especially after the others went to sleep.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had a light of some sort, but there wasn’t any light—not even moonlight. So I just sat and wished it was time for Mark to get up and take my place. I almost dozed off when, way back in the woods, I heard a whistle. At first I didn’t really know whether I heard it or not, but in a second it came again, and there was no mistaking it. Somebody was out there among the trees and he was whistling to somebody else. What did he whistle for, I wondered, and who was he whistling to?

I shoved up the window and stepped out on the balcony. The wind almost whipped my blanket off of me, but I hung on to it and looked all around. Right in front of me was the lake as black as a great big ink-blot; at the right was a bay; at the left was the shore and the road with the woods stretching back. I couldn’t see a thing alive; in fact, I couldn’t see very much of anything. Then I heard the whistle again, a little plainer than before.

I strained my eyes in the direction it came from and waited. I kept on waiting, and then almost before I realized it some kind of an animal rushed out of the woods and ran up on the porch and jumped against the door. Twice it jumped. Then it ran down on the grass and tore around to the back of the hotel where I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t tell what kind of an animal it was because I could scarcely see it at all, but it was big. It looked almost as big as a calf.

I got back into the room and shut down the window, because it felt safer to be inside when animals as big as calves were rampaging around outside. Just as I got in there was a whopping-big slam down-stairs and at the far end of the hotel. Just one slam, and then everything was quiet.

I wrapped up tighter in my blanket and sat out the rest of my watch. Then I called Mark and told him what I’d seen. I was tired and sleepy and cold, so, in spite of being pretty nervous, I fell asleep in a couple of minutes.