can walk now,” he told the Bob-Whites. “Sorry to be so much trouble to you all.”
He couldn’t really walk steadily, however, and the boys half carried him the rest of the way up the path to the lodge.
Mrs. Moore and Linnie ran out to meet them, and Mrs. Moore told them to take the man into the living room and bring pillows and blankets. For a while they were so busy getting hot coffee and hot-water bottles for the man that no one had a chance to explain what had happened.
When the revived man tried to talk, Mrs. Moore shushed him and directed the Bob-Whites to get into dry clothing immediately. Honey, who hadn’t been in the water, could help her, and Linnie prepared some hot food while Uncle Andrew sat with the patient. “There’s plenty of time to tell what happened,” Mrs. Moore said. “We don’t want to add pneumonia to our troubles.
The Bob-Whites obediently started upstairs, talking and gesturing vigorously.
Slim had been leaning against the doorjamb. “I’ll come back later if you ’uns want to try it again today,” he said.
He was out and astride his mule before anyone could answer.
“I doubt very much that there will be another expedition today,” Uncle Andrew said.
“Uncle Andrew, please!” Trixie begged from the stairs.
“We’ll find out first what this is all about,” her uncle said. “It looks as though a tragedy has been averted. That’s no laughing matter.”
“Everything’s all right now,” Trixie insisted. Then, when her uncle said no more, she followed her brothers and Jim upstairs.
The gray-haired man pulled himself up, threw off the blankets, and announced, “Everything is all right. How does a man even attempt to thank someone for saving his life?”
“What happened?” Uncle Andrew asked the man quietly.
“My name is Glendenning. I’m a visitor in this area. My home is in London. I have a variety of interests. I suppose you would call me an archaeologist or a geologist. Whatever the designation, there’s one thing certain: I’ll never be able to master a simple Ozark rowboat. It’s as balky as the mules around here. I thought I was doing very well, when all at once I was catapulted into the water. I think one of my own oars saved me. I suppose, really, I’d be in Davy Jones’s locker now if it hadn’t been for the young people. It’s always a question of whether a man’s life is worth saving, but I’ve a wife and daughter back in England who may think I’m of some value. I say, how do I go about it now to row back to where I started?”
As the man and Uncle Andrew talked and Mrs. Moore, Linnie, and Honey bustled about preparing lunch, the Bob-Whites trooped down the stairs, no worse for their experience. Honey hurried to tell the others what Mr. Glendenning had told Uncle Andrew.
“It’s wonderful to see you looking so well—” Trixie began but was stopped quickly by the man’s rushing words of gratitude.
“You’re no bigger than my daughter Gwen back in England,” he said, then rubbed his chin, “but you pack a better punch! You’re certainly a fine brave lass, and I thank you.”
He took Trixie’s hands in his and bowed. Then he shook hands with Honey, Jim, Brian, and Mart and warmly thanked them. “I owe you all a real debt. I hope I haven’t spoiled your whole day.”
The Bob-Whites, not at all at ease when they were being thanked for anything they did, quickly assured him that the best part of the day was still ahead of them.
This promised to be true, too, for Slim rode into the yard just as they finished their lunch.
In spite of the Englishman’s protest that he could find his way on foot to the cabin or row his own boat back, Mrs. Moore had persuaded him to let Linnie drive him. “I’m going up the road with her to take something to a neighbor who’s ailing,” she insisted. “It’ll be easier for you to ride with us.”
The Bob-Whites, sure that Mr. Glendenning was in good hands, again followed Slim down the path to
He couldn’t really walk steadily, however, and the boys half carried him the rest of the way up the path to the lodge.
Mrs. Moore and Linnie ran out to meet them, and Mrs. Moore told them to take the man into the living room and bring pillows and blankets. For a while they were so busy getting hot coffee and hot-water bottles for the man that no one had a chance to explain what had happened.
When the revived man tried to talk, Mrs. Moore shushed him and directed the Bob-Whites to get into dry clothing immediately. Honey, who hadn’t been in the water, could help her, and Linnie prepared some hot food while Uncle Andrew sat with the patient. “There’s plenty of time to tell what happened,” Mrs. Moore said. “We don’t want to add pneumonia to our troubles.
The Bob-Whites obediently started upstairs, talking and gesturing vigorously.
Slim had been leaning against the doorjamb. “I’ll come back later if you ’uns want to try it again today,” he said.
He was out and astride his mule before anyone could answer.
“I doubt very much that there will be another expedition today,” Uncle Andrew said.
“Uncle Andrew, please!” Trixie begged from the stairs.
“We’ll find out first what this is all about,” her uncle said. “It looks as though a tragedy has been averted. That’s no laughing matter.”
“Everything’s all right now,” Trixie insisted. Then, when her uncle said no more, she followed her brothers and Jim upstairs.
The gray-haired man pulled himself up, threw off the blankets, and announced, “Everything is all right. How does a man even attempt to thank someone for saving his life?”
“What happened?” Uncle Andrew asked the man quietly.
“My name is Glendenning. I’m a visitor in this area. My home is in London. I have a variety of interests. I suppose you would call me an archaeologist or a geologist. Whatever the designation, there’s one thing certain: I’ll never be able to master a simple Ozark rowboat. It’s as balky as the mules around here. I thought I was doing very well, when all at once I was catapulted into the water. I think one of my own oars saved me. I suppose, really, I’d be in Davy Jones’s locker now if it hadn’t been for the young people. It’s always a question of whether a man’s life is worth saving, but I’ve a wife and daughter back in England who may think I’m of some value. I say, how do I go about it now to row back to where I started?”
As the man and Uncle Andrew talked and Mrs. Moore, Linnie, and Honey bustled about preparing lunch, the Bob-Whites trooped down the stairs, no worse for their experience. Honey hurried to tell the others what Mr. Glendenning had told Uncle Andrew.
“It’s wonderful to see you looking so well—” Trixie began but was stopped quickly by the man’s rushing words of gratitude.
“You’re no bigger than my daughter Gwen back in England,” he said, then rubbed his chin, “but you pack a better punch! You’re certainly a fine brave lass, and I thank you.”
He took Trixie’s hands in his and bowed. Then he shook hands with Honey, Jim, Brian, and Mart and warmly thanked them. “I owe you all a real debt. I hope I haven’t spoiled your whole day.”
The Bob-Whites, not at all at ease when they were being thanked for anything they did, quickly assured him that the best part of the day was still ahead of them.
This promised to be true, too, for Slim rode into the yard just as they finished their lunch.
In spite of the Englishman’s protest that he could find his way on foot to the cabin or row his own boat back, Mrs. Moore had persuaded him to let Linnie drive him. “I’m going up the road with her to take something to a neighbor who’s ailing,” she insisted. “It’ll be easier for you to ride with us.”
The Bob-Whites, sure that Mr. Glendenning was in good hands, again followed Slim down the path to
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