THE KILLER MONUMENT

Charles W. Garnache

This novel brings together the several legends, mysteries, and superstitions prevalent in the Biddeford Pool and Saco River area of Maine prior to World Ware II and even to this day.

Although written as fiction, the knowledgeable reader will not find it difficult to recognize the setting and some of the events.  Of course any similarity between persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This is a fast moving, action packed thriller that will hold the readers attention by the quality of the work, rather than an appeal to one's most base instincts.  Though directed toward young adult readers, persons of all ages will find it enjoyable.

Garnache has won recognition in international competition sponsored by Writer’s Digest and is the recipient of the Horatio Bunce Award for his essays on liberty.

                                   INTRODUCTION

While sailing up the Saco River, English explorers saw an Indian woman with her baby crossing the river in a canoe.  They wondered if the infant of a “savage” could swim like a newborn dog or cat.  The explorers took the infant from its mother and threw it in the water.  The mother, screaming in grief over the loss of her baby, cursed the sailors.  “Three white men will drown in the Saco every year, forevermore!”  And as the curse held true year after year, it came to pass that a cloud of fear and superstition dominated the culture at the mouth of the Saco.  The object of greatest trepidation was the monument on Stage Island that strangely resembled a sixty foot high teepee.  Nobody knew when or how it came into being! 

                                

                                         CHAPTER  I                                                 

Twist,  Turn  &  Burn

It was the end of June, 1941, Jim Collins stood on the beach near his home.  He looked out over the water toward Stage Island studying the monument that stood on it.

As Claudine Grant, his next door neighbor, ran down the path toward him, she shouted excitedly.  "Look at what I found between the pages of an old book! It's an article from the Journal dated August 2, 1901."  Claudine held the yellowed newspaper clipping in front of Jim.  Listen I'll read to you:

One of the most prominent objects

              next to Wood Island Lighthouse,

              that attracts the attention of the

              stranger standing almost anywhere

on the great semi-circle which swings

inland from the mouth of the Saco

and outward again to Stout Neck,

is the tall conical gray tower

on stage island

No other object that strikes the eye

is more inquired upon than this tall

stone structure, and none about

which so little is known.  Who built it,

when and for what purpose was it

erected, constitute a standing puzzle

upon which scarcely any of those born

and reared within sight of the

structure, can shed a ray of light.  The

impression has been general that it is a

relic of antiquity, dating back perhaps

              two hundred years or more;  and this

      supposition has lent added interest to

the mysterious cone and given rise to

much currous speculation as to its

probable origin.

"What do you think of that, huh?"

"Let me see it."  Jim read the article to himself.  "It doesn't tell us anything."  he said shaking his head.

"What do you mean?  Of course it tells us something.  Now we know it had to have been built before 1700 when about the only people living around here were Indians, and nobody else knows anymore about it than we do.  It also tells us that if we are going to get answers we are going to have to go out there and get them ouselves."

"Like I said, Claud.  It doesn't tell us a thing."

"Well, it's a srart."

"Sure, a start to nowhere!  What I would like to know when did the legend start that no one ever set foot in that monument and survived.  I'd like to know who started it and why.  Than we would be getting somewhere."

Claudine looked at Jim, annoyed.  "What difference does that make?  You've said a hundred times that those stories are nothing but superstition."

"Yes, they are superstitions, all right, but somebody must of had a reason for starting them.  What's out there that sombody wanted to make sure nobody ever saw or found out?"

"Well that's what we are going to find out for ourselves,right?"

"Not so fast Claud.  There's a lot of things we have to do before we even think of going out there."

"Like what?"

"Like making money this summer, for one thing."

"You know, Jim, I just don't understand you.  We've been years waiting for the chance to get out to that island, and now you don't act interested."

As Claudine spoke, Jim looked down at his right hand.  First he held it palm up, then he turned it over to look at the back of it.  His attention was on the stub where his index finger should have been.  Now he held it out for Claudine to see.  "This is what  my curiosity cost me once, not to mention the dozens of times we've both been in trouble around here because we just had to know.  Now this time we could really get in over our heads."  He paused for a moment and sat down on the sandy beach.  Claudine sat down beside him.  He pointed to the water,s edge.  "This isn't like the time you spent a month lying on the beach to figure out why the gulls stamped their feet as the water came in over the sand...This is serious!  We've got to weigh the chances of success against the possibility of getting hurt."

"True, but look at what we learned that time.  You and I know that an animal with a brain as small as a seagull's can actually learn something, by itself, that goes beyond what it knows by instinct.  Just think of the implacations of that!"

"I have, plenty of times.  But who cares?"

"We do!" she said.

"Yes, we do, don't we?"  Jim felt excitement build inside of him.  "Your right!  That's what really counts.  Okay, let's go home and get ready to go clamming tomorrow, and then we can start making plans."

That evening Jim found it difficult to sleep.  Thoughts of the strange village of Stout Neck, his home, kept flashing into his mind.

There was the rickity Sidebottom house that leaned toward the sea like it was about to fall into it with the jaw bones of a huge whale forming an archway that guarded the entrance.  At night the place looked like a monster to jim, ready to pounce on anyone who came within reach of its jaws.

Then there was the abandoned Callahan place.  It had been an inn for sailors and assorted cutthroats.  In his mind, Jim saw the men that had been drugged and dragged unconcious to some waiting ship to sail the seven seas against their will.

He knew the legends of Indians and pirates.  There was the strange stone fort at Wooded Point where no fort should have been and no fort at Fort Hill where a fort should have stood.

The tales of rum runners and sunken ships were enough by themselves to keep Jim's imagination exploding forever.

To Jim, even the pine trees looked scared.  Their trunks and limbs were twisted out of shape as if they were trying to  hide from someone or something.

He had been told it was because of the wind that swept across the peninsula that made the trees look the way they did.  That sounded good to him except he realized the trees on the other peninsulas didn't look tortured like those.

Claudine was his best friend.  Everybody called her "Claud" which was a little confusing to him.  He thought it would be better if he started calling her Claudine even though she could do anything he tried to do, and usually did.  They were such close friends they celebrated their birthdays with the same party.

In all of Stout Neck, Claudine was the only person Jim knew who didn't have a look of fear or impending doom.  The mood of the people of Stout Neck puzzled Jim more than anything else

With that his thoughts slipped from view and he fell

asleep.

Early the next morning Jim and Claudine walked to the shore of Back Bay.  A heavy fog hid everything from view.  Jim rowed the skiff to their favorite spot, and they began to dig for clams.

The bay was about two miles wide and three miles long.  At low tide, the only water in the bay was a narrow channel that went the length of the bay and another that crosssed it.  At high tide, the bay was flooded to many feet in depth.

The place where they were digging was on the side of a high bog of wet spongy ground covered with marsh grass.  Jim looked up from his work toward Claudine.  Do you like being called Claud?

"That's my name, isn't it?"

"I know, but Claud is a boy's name.  I've got an uncle called Claud.  It seems strange to me that your parents would give you a nickname like that."

":Isn't evrything strange around here?"

"Yeah, it sure is, but "Claud" is still a boy's name."

"Well, I think it's a good name.  I can do anything you can, so what's wrong with my name?"

"Nothing!  It's just now that w're grown up, I thought you would like it better if I called you 'Claudine'"

"Well we're not really grown up, and Claud is fine by me."  She straightened up from her stooped position and stared toward the bog.  Hey!  Listen!  Do you hear that?  It sounds like somebody is fighting on the other side of the bog."

"Let's go see."

"I'm way ahead of you."  She charged toward the tall grass.

"Keep your head down," Jim warned.

As they crawled through the grass the sounds of a struggle were heard more clearly.  By parting the grass they could see two men fighting with their clam hoes.

Claudine stared wide eyed at the four ten- inch steel blades one of the men tried to drive into the body of the other.

Because the blades were at a hundred-degree angle to the eighteen inch handle the attacker swung it in an arc like a tennis player hitting a ball.  The other man held his out-stretched in front of him in an attempt to keep the first man away and to block his blows.

"They're going to kill each other!" Claudine gasped

"Quiet!  You want them to see us?"  Jim warned

One of the men was tall, lean and over six feet tall.  The other was about five foot six.  The little man had wild brown hair.  A gray stubble of hair covered his bony cheeks.  He was wearing a long coat that almost reached his ankles.  The leather belt around his waist was two feet to-long.  The extra length hung below his knees.  In his left hand he held a lunch box.  It was held closed by another leather belt that was also too long.

The little man actually attacked the big man.  He swung with his clam digger.  The tall man blocked the attack with his own digger then the smaller man smashed him with his lunch box.

The big man shouted with pain.  "I'll kill ya, Baby Bum!  If you don't get out of here, I'll kill ya!"

Baby Bum shouted right back at him, "this is my spot!  You get out!"

"FIrst come, first serve," the tall man yelled as he caught a hard blow to his ribs from the lunch box.

"Everybody's always trying to cheat me out of what is mine," Baby Bum screamed.  "You get out of here or I'll kill you!"

"The clam flats don't belong to you, you idiot," argued the tall man as he caught another blow to his battered ribs.

Baby Bum's arms swung in every direction with the swiftness of a bird's wings.  Finally, the big man knocked him to the ground with a powerful kick to the stomach.

He lay in the mud groaning in pain.  The tall man stood over him.  :That'll teach ya to mess with me, Baby Bum.  Ya try that again, and the next time I'll drive you into the ground deeper than the clams!"  Apparently convinced he had won the battle the tall man walked back to where he was digging, stooped over and began to work.

Jim and Claudine lay motionless in the tall grass.  They watched Baby Bum, wondering how badly he was hurt.  Neither knew what to do.  Before they had decided on a course of action they noticed Baby Bum's body relax.  Then he lifted his head and looked toward the tall man.  The tall man was still stooped over with his back to him.

Baby Bum got to his feet.  Quickly and silently he approached his enemy.  At about six feet from him he raised his digger high over his head, took another step and drove the digger into the tall man's back.

The wounded man droped face first into the mud.  His body began twitching and turning every which way.  The single blow killed him, throwing his body into death spasms.  Baby Bum, while in a crouch position jumped up and down, always facing the twisting body, and screamed in delight, "twist turn and burn!"  He yelled over and over as he circled his victim.

Claudine gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth.

"Shhhh," Jim cautioned frantically.

"He killed him!"

"Be quiet!  I think he heard you!  He's looking this way!"

Claudine started to turn toward the other side of the bog..  "Let's get out of here."

"No!  If we move he'll see the grass shake and then he'll know we're here!.  Lie still," he warned.  "Don't move a muscle.  We'll wait until he's gone, if he hasn't seen us already."

She looked back at the scene of the struggle.  "What's he doing now?  Why is he standing on him?"

Jim looked at Claudine with disbelief.  "He's trying to pull his digger out of the dead man's back!"

"He's crazy!"

"Of course he"s crazy!  Sane people don't go around killing each other over a few clams!"

Baby Bum took everything of any value from his victim including his clams.  He loaded his boat and rowed away. 

"He's not going up the channel."  Jim said fearfully.  "He's rowing toward our boat.  He's going to spot it for sure."

"Come on , let's get there first."

"Stay down," he ordered.  "If he sees our boat, we're not going to be able to get by him anyway.  If we go up the channel, we'll be traped.  The only way out is through him.

"Maybe the fog is thick enough to hide our boat."

"I don't think so.  We'd better get over to the other side like you suggested.  We'll be able to see what he's doing better from over there."

"That's what I was trying to tell you.  The end of the bog is blocking our view from here."

They crawled as carefully as they could trying not to give their position away by disturbing the grass.  Claudine was the first one to reach the other side.  "Look he's turning up the other channel.  He's moving away from us!"

"No he isn't.  He's stopping!  He's seen our boat!"  Jim ducked lower in the grass.

"What do we do now?"  she whispered.

"Lets just stay put.  Don't even breath until we're sure of what he is going to do.  If he comes this way we'll have to make a run for it across the flats."

"But we can't do that!  We'll get trapped in the mud!  Nobody has ever gotten through the soft muck in the center of the flats!"

"We're going to have to try if he comes after us.  You saw what a maniac he is."

She looked at Jim intently.  "If we get caught in the mud in this fog, nobody will be able to see us.  We'll drown when the tide comes in!"

"Quiet, here he comes!"

They watched as Baby Bum began rowing slowly toward their boat.  He scowled trying to see if anyone was around.  He beached his skiff and started to get out.

"It's time for us to retreat.  Keep your head down," Jim warned.

They crawled to the other side, got to their feet and began running across the flats.  "This will give us a head start anyway," Claudine said as she ran alongside Jim.

After about a hundred yards, Jim stopped. 

Okay, this is far enough."  He turned and looked toward the bog.   "I can barely see the grass.  If we stand perfectly still we should be able to see him before he can spot us."

"Jim, we forgot our diggers!  We don't have a thing to protect ouselves with!"

"I know.  We had no way of knowing we'd need them."

Claudine grabbed Jim's arm.  "There he is!  Can you see him?"

"Yes.  He's just looking around."

"How come he looks so huge?"

"It's the fog.  It makes everything look bigger for some reason or other.

"Oh, God!  here he comes!" she whispered.

"Think you can fool Baby Bum, do ya?  I know ya're out there.  Ya think I'm to dumb to see foot prints, huh?  Get ready to meet  yaw maker 'cause I'm comin' to git ya!"

"We've got no choice now."  Jim grabbed Claudine's hand and started to run.  "Let's hope we can make it across the mud."

They had run about three-quarters of a mile when they came to the soft clay-type in the center of the flats.  It became increasingly difficult to move.  With each step they sank deeper.  As its grip grew stronger they got weaker.

Baby Bum closed his distance to less than twenty yards.  He waved the murderess clam digger in the air while all the time screaming threats of death.  In the other hand was the steel lunch box which he had used on his previous victim.

His oversized coat draged in the mud along with the end of his leather belt that kept it gatherd tightly around his waist.  To Jim, his hate filled eyes and his wild brown hair made him look more terrible than anything in a nightmare.

Claudine reached out and caught Jim's arm.  Only her eyes pleaded for help.  Her lungs were to desperate for air to spare enough to utter a single word.

The mud held their feet firmly.  They could not take another step.  Baby Bum shook with delight.  "I got ya now.  Thought you could make trouble for me, did ya?  Well you brats ain't gonna make trouble for nobody nomore!"

Jim and Claudine twisted their bodys so they could see Baby Bum.  Holding on to Claudine for balance, Jim raised his free hand in a sign for him to stop."Wait a minute!"  Jim gasped.

"What for?"  Baby Bum screamed through clenched teeth.

"You'll get stuck like us." Jim managed to say between gulps of air.

"Ya think I'm stupid like you brats?  I ain't got no intention of going into that muck.  I ain't going to have to kill ya.  The tide will do that for me."  His laughfter sent chills over their bodies.  It won't be long now.  Ya feel the crabs nibling at your toes yet?  Ya don't?  Pretty quick now you will.  Crabs love to eat people........... dead or alive!"

They began to shake with terror.  "Don't try to move," Jim advised between chattering teeth,  "Save your strength."

"I'm gonna leave ya now.  Them crabs are gonna have a nice meal on ya young and tender bodiess!  He turned and headed back toward the bog.

When he is out of sight you try and pull yourself out by holding on to me," Jim said with desperation.

"I'll try, but I doubt if it will do any good.  We've both sunk even deeper since we stopped!"

"Okay, okay!  Let's take a minute to get our heads together.  If we don't panic, I"m sure we can get out of this mess."  He was trying to comfort himself as much as Claudine.

"Look at the tide!  It's coming in faster than ever!  I've never seen it come in that fast!"

"Take it easy!  For crying out loud, take it easy!  It only seems that way.  As near as I can figure, we've got an hour and a half before the water will be over our heads."

Claudine screamed, "there's a crab!"

"Stop it!  you'll have us both in a state of panic if you keep that up.  The crabs are the least of our problems for the time being."

"Oh......no!" Claudine moaned.

"Wha--what's the matter now?"

:What if Baby Bum comes back in his boat?  We'll be at

his mercy."

Chapter II

It's In The Wrong Place

Jim looked at Claudine.  The color began draining from his face.  He shook his head violently.  Let's not even think about that.  Let's concentrate on getting out of this mud."  As he twisted his body toward her, he told her to hold on to him and try to get herself out.

The fast rising tide was now up to their waists.  When Jim guessed how much time they had to free themselves he forgot to consider they were already knee deep in the mud.

Claudine did the best she could to break loose from the mud's grip.  After several minutes she was exausted.  "I think I have a better idea," she gasped.

"What is it?"

"You try to get youself out by holding on to me.  If you do, then you can help me get out."

"But I'm stronger than you," he protested.  We've a better chance of getting you out first."

"You are not stronger than me, but you are taller, so you can reach me better.  Just put your weight on me and try to get your legs unstuck.  If you can then lay behind me in the water and I'll try to get out by sitting on you."

Jim twisted his body so as to put as much weight on Claudine as possible.  She was on his left which meant he had to try and get his right leg out first.

Claudine strained under his weight.  Struggling for a few minutes, he felt his leg move a little.  "It's working!  Yes, I'm sure it's working!  My leg is almost out!  That's it!  It's out!"

"Be careful!" she shouted.  "Don't knock us over or we'll be in worse trouble than we are now."

Jim fought to regain his balance.  Finally with his free leg behind him, he was able to steady his shaking body.  He leaned more heavily on Claudine.  As he pulled on his left leg to get it free his weight began forcing her into the water.  He pushed with his right leg to take some of the pressure off her..His right leg was stuck again

"This isn't going to work!" he cried in frustration.

"Wait a minute Jim.  Just calm down.  Get your right leg out again then put it behind you and sit on it."

He leaned on Claudine.  In another minute he had the right leg free.  He folded his leg under him and tried to sit on it.  "I can't do it" he moaned.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not a girl.  I can't bend it that far!"

"Well kneel on it then.  That'll be even better."

Jim did as she suggested.  He reached in the water and began scooping mud away from his trapped leg.  When he had enough of it cleared away to get a good grip on his leg, he and Claudine began pulling and twisting it.  In his kneeling position the water touched his chin.  Within an instant he felt his leg give a little.  For a moment he was not sure, but with the next effort he was sure.  "It's coming!"  he shouted.  It's coming real good!"

Jim struggled with renewed enthusiasm.  The promise of success gave him greater strength.  Stll the mud held giving up its grip an inch at a time.  Finally, he pulled his leg from the mud.

"I'm out!  I'm free!": he shouted.  But his joy quickly turned to fear and doubt.  Although he shivered from the cold water, beads of sweat formed on his forehead.  He felt his heart pound in his chest.  The water was now too deep to help Claudine without having to put his head under water.  He knew time was running out for her.

He would have to go underwater for Claudine to sit on him to get herself free, and he knew there was no way he could hold his breath that long.  Only her head and shoulders were out of the water.

Without saying a word, he ducked under the water and began to dig frantically around her leg.  Even under water he felt her body shake.  As he dug he felt a clam shell cut deep into one of his fingers.  He ignored the wound and kept digging until he no longer could hold his breath.  He bobbed his head out of the water, snapped his mouth open and sucked air in one prolonged gasp until he was able to get control of his lungs.  He filled them with air and dropped below the surface.

To his horror he found the mud filled the hole as fast as he emptied it, but then he noticed it was loose where he had dug and didn't grip the leg as firmly as before.

As he felt the need for air coming on he forced his hands down along Claudine's leg as far as he could, reaching her ankle.  He placed his knees on either side of her leg while gripping her ankle with all his strength, he pulled with all his might.  Slowly at first, and then with a jerk the leg broke free of the mud.

With the release of her leg, he turned his face toward the surface.  His diaphragm and his lungs were about to force him to breath.  As his upturned face broke water, he poped his mouth open even as the water still ran off it.  The air rushed into his lungs in a long mournful sigh.  As he struggled to get control of his breathing, he saw that Claudine would soon be traped under the surface.  The fast rising tide had now covered her shoulders.

He decided on one final and desperate gamble.  Either they would both survive, or both drown.  There was time for only one more attempt.  Between gasp of air he said, "I'm going to dig around your other leg.  Then when I signal by hitting your shin with my knuckles, you stand on my back with your free foot and push."

Once again he dropped to the bottom to scoop mud from her leg.  This time he used both hands.  He positioned himself flat on the bottom.  He tapped her shin and felt her foot settle between his shoulder blades in response.  Her weight pressed down upon him.  He reached with his left hand and pulled.  His breath was being squeezed out of him.  By the pressure of Claudine's foot on his back he could tell she was having difficulty keeping her balance.  Even so, he felt her leg inch up through the mud.

He began feeling the need for air under his breast bone.  Slowly the sensation moved to the pit of his stomach.  His brain began protesting the frustration of its command.  It was a feeling akin to panic; but unlike panic, there was a strange painful sensation in his head and diaphragm.

Claudine's leg broke free of the mud's grip just as he lost control of his breathing.  Her weight was suddenly released from his body.  He tasted the salt of the ocean as it rushed into his open mouth.  His head shot above the surface.  He felt a valve in his thoat close.

No air could pass in or out of his lungs.  He struugled to make a sound, but could not.  No matter how hard he tried  he could not breath.  He looked at Claudine.  He strained to open his eyes wider in a plea for help.  His face twisted and distorted from the pain as the muscles in his stomach felt like they were being torn apart.

Claudine looked at Jim with fear in her eyes not understanding what was happening to him.  She begged him to tell her what was wrong over and over again.

Just as Jim started to feel dizzy he felt a trickle of air leak into his lungs.  He coughed once, weakly, and then was able to breath more freely.  He made loud, squeaky, rasping sounds as he tried to inhale that sent chills all over Claudines body.  "What's happening?"  She begged.

"I don't know," he gasped.  "Let's just get out of here fast.

They were just within reach of the opposite shore when Claudine cried out, "Here he comes."

Jim turned his head to see Baby Bum rowing his boat toward them.  "Don't worry about him.  He can't catch us now."

They ran the remaining distance to the shore before Baby Bum could reach them.  Jim turned and shouted at him,

"You better get out of here creep.  We're going to call the cops.  Besides, there isn't anyway you can catch us now."

"Ya go ahead and call the cops," Baby Bum yelled back.  "Tain't gonna do ya any good.  Ain't nobody can catch me.but ya watch, I'll fix you brats.  I'll sneak into yaw house some night and kill ya both in yaw sleep."

They ran up the road that followed the shore  Instead  of going to their homes, they went right to the Constable's house..  The village of Stout Neck was not big enough to support a police department, so one of the fishermen served as the town constable.  He opened the door in response to their knock.

Jim and Claudine blurted out the story of what they had seen.

"Now wait a minute.  Just wait a minute, now," the constable said impatiently.  "One at a time.  Now you Jim,describe this character for me."

"Yes!  He was a little less than fife and half feet tall, a hundred to a hundred and thirty pounds.  It was hard to tel with his overcoat on...."

"Wait a minute there," the constable interrupted Jim.  "An overcoat!  On the clam flats?"

"Yes sir.  He had a big old overcoat that went almost down to his feet, and it was held around his middle with a leather belt that was to long.  Just like the one that kept his lunch box closed....."

"A lunch box!  You mean while he was chasing you two, he was carrying a lunch box?"  The constable was wide-eyed with disbelief.

"Yes sir.  Like we said, he used it as a weapon," Claudine said.  "And we heard the murdered man call him by name, Baby Bum."

"Baby what?"

"Baby Bum," Claudine repeated.

"Baby Bum, huh," the constable repeated sarcastically.

"Now you two kids listen to me.  I know you two have pretty wild imaginations.  I've seen the two of you poking around this village ever since you were toddlers, sticking your noses everywhere but where they belonged.  Always pestering people with silly questions that ain't none of your concern.  Like that monument, for instance.

"But when you come to the police with a wild story like you just told me, you can get yourself into a peck of trouble."  He raised his finger in warning, pointing at them. 

"Now you run on home and don't be bothering people with your fairy tales."

"But...."

"No but's abaout it," he shouted.  "Now run along."

They looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and steped off the porch.

"Well what do we do now?"  Claudine asked as they started to walk home.

"I don't know.  Let's try to think the way the killer would."

"How can we think like a crazy man?"

"Well, look at the things he said to us,about the crabs eating us and his sneaking in our rooms at night to kill us in our sleep.  He might be crazy, but he's not stupid.  He said those things to us to get us to do something dumb."

"Sure!  Why not?  He was trying to panic us.  And if we had fallen for it, we'd both have drowned!"  Claudine stared into the distance.  She thought for a moment.  "So do you think he'll forget about us and skip this part of the country?

"I think so.  I know I would, wouldn't you?"

"I would.  But I don't think he will," she said.

"Why not?  He asked.

"Because of the things he said when he was fighting the other man.  He kept insisting it was his spot the other man was digging in.  He acted like he owned the place.  So we know he's crazy and if he thinks he owns the place, he's not about to leave it..  Then he kills a man and accuses us of making trouble.  The way I see it, he most likely thinks he did the right thing and was onbly protecting what is his."

"I don't know.  You might be right," he agreed.  "Anyway there's a good chance he'll decide to clear out, but to be on the safe side, we won't  do anuthing or go anywhere unless we're together or have somone else with us.  But we shouldn't say anything to our parents.  They most likely won't believe us  either."

"Okay," Claudine agreed.  But how are we going to explain the fact we don't have any clams or our boat?"

We don't have to say anything to anybody yet.  We'll take the dory and go get our boat.  Then we"ll worry about the rest of it."

"Good idea!  With two of us rowing we'll stand a better chance against Baby Bum if we run into him."

They dropped down of the beach road and walked the rest of the way to the dory following the shore.  When they got to the boat Jim took the forward rowing station and Claudine the aft station.

As they leaned on the oars the dory glided over the flat calm water.  The two pairs of oars moved with precision in the expert hands of Jim and Claudine.  The movement of their arms and bodies was synchronized as perfectly as a professional dance team.

Arriving at the spot where they had left their boat they looked on all sides.  For a moment they dared not state the obvious until Claudine said in a half whisper, "It's not here."

Jim kept his voice at a hush as if he sensed someone was nearby.  "None of our things are here either!"

"What do you think, Jim?"

"Baby Bum is what I think."

"So now what do we do?  Get some amunition, I guess."

"Amunition?"  Claudine looked at Jim with a frown.

"Rocks," he said.  "Let's go ashore and pick up a bunch of good throwing rocks."

Once the stones were loaded on board they rowed along the shore hoping it was the current and not Baby Bum that took their boat from where they had left it.

Although the bay was only three miles long and two miles wide, it was many miles along the shore.  They had covered

half the distance when Claudine was overcome by a feeling of isolation.  The only thing visible was the deserted shore line and the flat calm water for a hundred yards.  Everything else was hidden by the dense fog.

She turned her head slowly looking around the dory trying to see through the fog.  She had an awed expression.  "It's like we're the only two people in the whole world and this little patch of water is the whole world," she told Jim.  "This sure is a strange place.  With all the mysteries we have around here, now we have a murder!"

"Yeah, but it's that monument that's driving me crazy," Jim admitted .  "I wish this Baby Bum thing would just blow away so we could try to solve that one."

"Me too," she agreed.  "I don't understand why everybody is so scared of the place.  Nobody says so, just mention the monument, and right away they try to change the subject.

"I Know.  I think it's because they don't know anything about it, he suggested.  "So they've imagined all kinds of things.  You know how grown-ups are.  They don't like to admit to kids that there is something they know anything about."

My father said it was built to mark a channel, but that doesn't make sense.  Why would a monument be built that's bigger than the lighthouse and on an island behind it?"

"Exactly right!  And if it was built to guide ships then it's in the wrong place.  And what about the story that anyone entering the monument will never be seen again."

"Do you believe that?" she asked.

"You know I don't.  But what about the gulls?  There are thousands of them guarding the island."

"Oh Jim, they're most likely just guarding their chicks.  That has to be why there are so many of them.  It's because they nest there."

"Yeah, well how come they don't nest on any of the other islands?"

"I have to admit that is strange."

"Well, I know where we can get some answers about this place and that's from Mr.Sidebottom.  Would you be game to go there."  Jim asked.

"Why should he be able to tell us  anything?" she argued.

"Because he is so old he can even remember when there still were Indians around here.  He could tell us about the fort and the Callahan place too, I'll bet."

"His place is spookier than the monument and the Callahan place," she protested.

"I suppose.  Well, if you don't want to, we wont."

"Oh I know, you think I'm scared, don't you?"

"No, not really.  If you don't think we shouild go then let's forget it."

"Well I think it's a good idea.  So the first chance we get, we're going."  Claudine insisted.

"That's settled then, right?"

"Right, it's settled."

As they talked they searched the shore.  Because of their position at the oarsJim talked to the back of Claudine's head..  She stoped rowing and turned in her seat so she could see him.  "You know, we've just about covered this entire shore line and still no boat."

Jim looked aroud slowly, putting off as long as he could, facing up to what was nagging at him the whole time.  "Well, I guess we had better head for Indian Cove.  If we don't find it there we'll have to wait until the fog lifts and give it another try."

Claudine made a face like she had tasted something she didn't like.  "Of course you know the only way it could get in there is if someone took it there.  I mean a boat can't drift against the tide, right?"

"Yeah, I know.  That's what I don't like about it."

A few minutes latter they arrived at the entrance to the cove.  They stopped and let the dory glide slowly into it while they watched the shore on each side of the dory slip by.

"There it is!"  Jim whispered nervously.

"I don't see anybody, do you?"

"No," Jim placed his oars in the water stopping the forward progress of the dory.  "Let's back into the shore.  That way we will be able to get out fast if we have to.  When we get there I'll, get out and untie our boat.  You be ready with the rocks.  If he shows, you start throwing.  Just make sure you don't bean me while your at it!"

"I won't hit you," she protested.  "I'm just as good a shot as you are.  Be careful," she warned.  "An army could hide in those bushes."

Jim pointed the stern toward the shore pushing gently on the oars.  The dory moved slowly, gradualy taking away their margin of safety.

Claudine stood behind him by the forward rowing station with a rock the size of a large egg in each hand.  She stared intently at the line of bushes that grew twenty feet from the beach.

See anything," Jim whispered.

"No."  From her standing position she could see inside their skiff.  "Hey, look!  All our stuff is in it!"

With one final push on the oars the dory hit the beach.  Within an instant Jim jumped out and grabbed the anchor line.  The moment he took his gaze from the bushes he heard Claudine scream, ""look out!  There he is!"

He snapped his head up.  He was still in a crouch position as he saw Baby Bum charging at him from ten feet away.

A steady scream came from Baby Bum's throat.  He held  the clam digger high in his right hand.  The steel lunch box was in the other extended as far as he could reach.  His next two strides put him within stiking distance of Jim.

Jim's body was still in a crouch looking upward to keep the clam digger in view.  As Baby Bum started to drive the digger at him, he saw a rock bounce off Baby Bum's left temple.  His eyes closed at the moment of impact and he was thrown off balance, causing him to miss Jim.  The momentum of his charge carried him to the edge of the water on the opposite sideof the skiff from where the dory was beached. Before he could recover, Jim scrambeled to the dory side of the skiff.  He grabbed an oar and smashed it across Baby Bum's chest knocking him in the water.

Trying to claw his way out of the oversized coat, dripping with water, weighed him down.  His blood streaked eye balls protruded from their sockets.  His twisted teeth snapped like a mad dog's.

Using the oar like a lance, Jim jumped over the skiff and drove the end into Baby Bum's stomach dumping him in the water a second time.

"Jump in!  Jump in, Jim!"  Claudine screamed as she pelted Baby Bum with more rocks.  "I've got the boat."

Jim turned and in three steps was aboard the dory.  He drove the oar into the ground and gave it a mighty shove, propelling the dory and skiff out into the cove.  Claudine pulled on her oars as hard as she could and in a moment they reached a safe distance from Baby Bum. 

"I'll get you brats!  As sure as my name is Baby Bum, I'll get you!" He screamed.

Jim stood up in the dory and yelled back at him, "if you had any brains, you'd get out of here.  The police and evrybody else in the village are looking for you."

"Is that so?  Then why ain't they with ya now?  They didn't believe you brats did they?  Well, let me tell ya something, nobody takes what belongs to Baby Bum without suffering for it."

"We never took anything of yours."  Jim argued.

"You took that boat," he screamed at them.

"This boat."

"Yes that boat.  I found it adrift.  That makes it mine."

"You are one sick person," Jim yelled across the water.  "You steal our boat then you claim it's yours.  Well I'm going to tell you something.  "We figured out it was you who had our boat and we thought you would be waiting in ambush for us.  You can see how much you scare us.  We came and got it anyway.  Only we had a little surprise for you.  Well, if we see you around here again we'll have an even bigger surprise for you.".

Baby Bum glared at Jim.  "Ya ain't foolin' me.  Ya're plenty scared.  Ya could have finished me off just now, but ya ran off instead.  If ya know what's good for ya , ya'll sleep with one eye open!"

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