Part 24 (1/2)
”And what do you know about the 'B. C.'? Caesar must have known they were going to change the calendar,” chuckled Neale. ”And the same informality of spelling. It seems Caesar and Columbus must have gone to the same school.”
”And,” said Agnes, gravely, but with dancing eyes, ”if we accept the one as _bona fide_, then we must believe this one, too. This turtle is nearly two thousand years old.”
”O-oo!” gasped Tess.
”'Julius Caesar' is the name of Bill Monnegan, the coal man's, horse,”
declared Dot. ”And that horse never could have cut those letters into that turtle. So I guess it is maybe a joke, isn't it?”
”It must be a joke,” laughed Ruth. Then, quite seriously, she added: ”But think! Maybe this island isn't always deserted. Perhaps other people have been here and will come again.”
”These turtles travel many hundreds of miles, Ruth,” Neale said quietly.
”This discovery, I guess, offers no particular hope that we shall have visitors. But, of course, we'll get that old engine to working before long.”
CHAPTER XVII
LOOKING FOR ADVENTURE
Imagine becoming bored on a desert island in the tropics! But that is exactly what happened in the case of Dot Kenway. Nor was Tess in much finer fettle on the fourth morning of their sojourn on Palm Island.
”I wish we had Tom Jonah here. Or even Billy b.u.mps,” said Tess to her smaller sister. ”There isn't really much to play with on this place but turtles. And they only lie on their backs and wave their paws at you.”
”It is too bad we didn't bring that rabbit along that Sammy Pinkney gave us for Christmas,” said Dot, quite as ruefully.
”That old Belgian hare!”
”We-ell, the Belgians are all right, I guess. They live over there in Europe.”
”I guess that rabbit never came from Bel-Belgia, or whatever that place is called,” said Tess.
”And we don't even know _his_ name,” went on Dot. ”We came away so soon after Christmas, and it snowed in between, that I didn't see that rabbit at all. But Uncle Rufus said it had a good appet.i.te.”
”I'm hungry myself,” announced Tess, rather despondently. ”If I tell Ruth she'll only give me some funny fruit and tell me to eat it and be thankful.”
”M-mm. I know,” rejoined Dot, appreciating this. ”But how can you be thankful for something you don't want? Now, if I had a piece of bread and b.u.t.ter--”
”Oh! And with honey on it!”
”No. Apricot jam. I like that better.”
”Of all the stingy children!” exclaimed Tess, in a strangely quarrelsome mood for her. ”When I want honey!”
”Can't you have honey if you want to? And me have apricot jam? It's only in our minds, anyway,” mourned Dot, hugging up the Alice-doll. ”Say, Tess, let's do something.”
”What is there to do in this place?” repeated her sister despondently.
”Mr. Howbridge and Luke and Neale have gone hunting for springs again.
Ruth told them she had just got to have fresh water. I don't know what for,” Dot remarked. ”They have almost got the engine fixed. I heard Neale say so. Let us go see it.”