Part 26 (1/2)
”Why not?” demanded Jess and Bobby together.
”Did you ever notice Professor Dimp's feet?” asked Mother Wit.
”Horrors! No. Never saw him barefooted,” said Bobby.
”Miss Smartie! His shoes, then?” proceeded the unruffled Laura.
”I--I----Why, no,” admitted Bobby.
”Look at them now. He's not a big man, but he has plentiful understandings,” chuckled Laura. ”See?”
”Plain!” exclaimed Jess, peering through the branches.
”And those footprints we followed were of a person who wears a narrow, small boot. Small for a man, I mean. I don't believe the old Prof.
ever _could_ get into such shoes.”
”Hurrah for Mother Wit--the lady detective!” cheered Bobby, under her breath.
”I am going to ask him----”
”What?” demanded Jess, half frightened as Laura started to press through the fringe of bushes.
”If he knows anything about that young man.”
”What young man?” demanded the startled Jess.
”The young man who scared Liz last evening in the storm. The same young man who took the things from our camp--and left the ten dollar bill.”
”The kleptomaniantic!” breathed Bobby, tagging close behind.
”Then it's the man who has been fis.h.i.+ng with the professor?” gasped Jess.
”You've guessed it,” said Laura. ”They are together. This is a camp for two. You can see the fish-heads lying about. There are two tin-plates and two empty cups.”
”Are you sure the--the old Prof was one of those fishermen we saw in the boat?” asked Bobby.
”I recognize that old coat and hat,” said Laura, firmly. ”I do not see why I did not recognize Professor Dimp, in spite of his disguise, before.”
”Well!” sighed Jess. ”I am thankful one of our fellow-inhabitants of the island is n.o.body worse than Professor Dimp.”
”But _why_?” demanded Bobby, wonderingly.
”We'll find out what it means,” said Laura, with more confidence than she really felt. Of course, she was not afraid of any physical violence. But the old professor was so terribly stern and strict that it took some courage to walk across the glade, where Barnacle was chewing fish-heads, and face the shabby old gentleman.
”What, what, what?” snapped Professor Dimp, rising up from the log on which he had been sitting. ”Girls from Central High, eh? Ha! Miss Belding--yes; Miss Morse--yes; Miss Hargrew--yes. Well! what do you want?”
He seemed grayer than ever. His outing in the woods (if he had been here ever since school broke up) had done him little good, for he was wrinkled and troubled looking. His thin lips actually trembled as he greeted the three girls in characteristic manner. His eyes, however, were as bright as ever--like steel points. He looked this way when the boys had been a trial to him in Latin cla.s.s and he was about to say something very sharp.
”We are sorry to disturb you, Professor Dimp,” said Laura, bravely.