On their way to the pond, Captain Tarwell stopped briefly at the little ship cottage. He went inside for a moment to make certain no one had broken in since his last visit.
After snapping shut the padlock again, Captain Tarwell slipped the key under a loose shingle on the side of the house.
“Now you know my secret,” he said, “but I’ll trust you both not to tell where I keep the key.”
Vevi remarked wistfully that she wished the Brownie Scouts might hold their shell exhibition at the cottage.
“We wouldn’t damage anything,” she promised.
Captain Tarwell acted as if he had not heard the request. Telling the youngsters to come along, he started on down the road toward the pond.
The captain could not walk fast on his lame leg. Out of politeness, Vevi and Jamie kept exact pace.
“Hunting pond turtles puts me in mind of the days when I’d see giant tortoises roaming island beaches in the Pacific,” he remarked. “It’s fun to watch the big leatherbacks come out of the sea on moonlight nights to lay their eggs.”
“I’d like to run off to sea,” Jamie said.
Captain Tarwell gave the boy a quick, sidelong glance. “Better forget that idea, lad,” he said.