[Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways of the Flying Dutchman

Regina had been scrambling her way to the back of the gang, intent on escaping into the square, when Ben grabbed her hand. “What about you going to help Alex? You were the one calling all the names. Why don’t you take the dare for Wilf?”

She broke out in tears. “It wasn’t anything to do with me! It was all Wilf’s idea, he said we should do it!”

Ben called to the others. “Amy and I are going back to the almshouse. You lot run and get some help. Fetch a policeman, quick!”

The mention of police involvement sent them all stumbling past the big black Labrador and off into the darkness, crying.

“My dad doesn’t even know I’m out!”

“I’m not going to any police station!”

“Nothing t’do with us, it was Wilf!”

Ned let them go. Amy planted her shoe firmly against Wilf’s bottom and shoved him on his way. “Get out of my sight, coward!”

Ben released Regina, and she shot off sobbing. In a trice the alley was deserted, save for Amy, Ben, and his dog. The sound of bolts being withdrawn from Evans’s side door caused Ned to melt back into the shadows. A light went on, throwing a golden shaft across the alley. Blodwen Evans’s huge nightgowned figure appeared in the open doorway. She was holding a hooked window-blind pole and holding on to her mobcap, squinting at Ben.

“Indeed to goodness, what’s all the row out here, boyo, eh?”

Ben flicked at his tousled hair and smiled disarmingly. “Sorry about the noise, Miz Evans. My dog’s got loose and I was out calling for him. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”

A gruff bark from nearby sent the boy running off, followed by Amy, who was calling. “Here, Ned! Good dog! Here, boy!”

Mrs. Evans shook her head as she closed the door. “I ’opes they get him, I need my sleep!”

30

THE OLD SHIP’S CARPENTER AND ALEX had cocoa made for Ben, Amy, and Ned as they entered the almshouse through the back window. They related what had happened in the alley, the younger boy and Jon roaring with laughter at Amy’s impression of Wilf sobbing and wanting to go home, hugging his injured hand.

Ben sipped his cocoa and winked at Alex. “Wait’ll they find out tomorrow that you faced the Mad Professor and lived to tell the tale. I don’t think the Grange Gang or Wilf will ever bother you again, Alex. It was great to see how you went at the bully and had him bawling in front of his own gang. They’ll respect you and your sister from now on.”

Alex put his empty mug down. “But only because of you, Ben.”

The blue-eyed boy patted Alex heartily on the back. “Nonsense, mate, all I did was suggest a thing or two. The rest was you, having confidence in yourself. Isn’t that right, Ned?”

The dog nodded. Jon looked over the rim of his cocoa mug at him. “I suppose that was his collar itching him again, eh, Ben?”

The strange boy’s eyes twinkled. “You supposed right, mate.”

Alex was beginning to feel sleepy; he blinked. “Supposed what?”

The black Lab leaped to the window frame, followed by Ben, who chuckled. “Supposed to meet at the library first thing in the morning, so we can have a word with Mr. Braithwaite. G’night, pals. Jon, will you see Amy and Alex get home all right?”

Ben and Ned vanished into the night like twin shadows.

Amy stared at the empty window space. “There’s something rather odd about Ben. It’s almost as if he and Ned are magic. What do you think, Jon?”

The ex-ship’s carpenter wiped the last of the lampblack off with a damp rag. “Ben’s no more magic than you, me, or Alex. He’s just good, aye, and clever. He’s certainly taught me a thing or two, as old as I am. Come on, mates, I’ll walk you as far as your house.”

“Not quite as far,” Alex replied. “Leave us at the end of the lane, we’ve got to sneak in by the pantry window.”

Jon’s craggy face broke into a smile. “See, you’re learning fast, pal!”

At breakfast next morning Hetty the maid brought the post into the dining room. She placed it next to Obadiah Smithers’s plate, bobbed a brief curtsy, and left.

Mrs. Smithers cast a worried glance at Wilf’s empty chair. “Poor Wilfred, perhaps he’s stayed in bed because he’s still feeling poorly. I’ll tell Hetty to take him a tray up.”

“No, you won’t, madam!” Smithers slit an envelope vigorously with his egg-stained breakfast knife. “Let the young whelp stay abed until he’s hungry enough to get himself down here and take his place at table. Confounded fool, punchin’ a wall of all things, losing to a lad half his size. Oh, I’ve heard all about it from Reggie Woodworthy, Regina told him. Can’t hold my head up in the village! Man with a great, strappin’ son who doesn’t know the difference between the other fellow’s nose and a schoolyard wall. Huh!”

Maud Bowe helped herself to a boiled egg and tapped the top daintily with her spoon, remarking caustically, “About what anyone could expect from that silly oaf.”

Smithers slammed the letter down on his side plate, cracking it in the process. He glared at Maud.

“Keep your opinions to y’self, missie. It’s not your place to criticize my family while you’re a guest in my house!”