The Twisted Shadow. Edith Dorian
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Judy smiled at him. “Thanks for the warning,” she said. “We’ll manage all right at the library unless you descend like a plague of locusts. I’ve got some of the things you want aboard the bookmobile now, and next time I’ll come loaded.”
The next half hour was lively enough to leave Judy breathless, and even after she had drafted two high-school-age den chiefs to list what was going off the shelves, she still felt as if she were managing a three-ring circus.
“On Friday I’ll be here earlier,” she promised, “and stay a whole hour. Then each den can come up in turn with its own den chief and have fifteen minutes to find books. The den that wins cabin inspection oftenest gets to come first. Okay?”
Their shout of approval made her laugh. Cubs might be strenuous, but they were fun. This was one stop in the Park she was going to enjoy. Most of them had never seen a bookmobile before, and they crowded close to watch her shut up shop.
“Where are you going next?” they demanded. “Over to Breakfast Cove?” Judy pricked up her ears. These kids sounded as if they knew their way around.
“I wouldn’t know,” she told them sadly, “not unless you help me. This bookmobile hasn’t got a compass, and I’ve been lost for hours.”
After that, instructions came so fast she had to beg for mercy. The boys had been exploring the Park since early morning, and if there was a single cabin they had not located, it was invisible.
“Draw me a map. You can put X’s in for cabins instead of treasure,” she suggested, and one of the boys dropped down to set to work in the dirt with a stick.
He was the young imp with the angelic smile and mischief in his eyes who had been disappointed because she did not have any snake books on the shelves, and Judy wrestled with temptation while she copied his map. In her opinion, it would be no more than poetic justice if she handed him one of those reptile books on the front seat as a reward for doing some ranger’s job for him. Only she knew perfectly well they were too technical, and she climbed into the station wagon with her conscience still free.
“I’ll bring you two snake books for sure next time,” she called as she drove off, and his face lighted up happily.
She thought of the youngster again when she finally finished her cabin rounds and headed back to the Ranger Station for her last stop. If one of the rangers was boning up on snakes, that kid would get a terrific bang out of talking to him, and she ought to do something about it. She did not have much idea of what rangers were like; probably they were pretty rough and rugged. Just the same, it couldn’t hurt to tackle him.
Judy had got herself all steamed up over her idea long before she reached the Station, but her enthusiasm did not do her much good. Nobody answered her knock this time either. She hated to cart their books back to the library until Friday. On the other hand, she had no more intention of leaving them on that front porch than she had had earlier. For a minute she hesitated, undecided. Then she made up her mind and walked briskly around to the back of the building, looking for a less conspicuous spot.
Luck was with her. There was another door in an ell made by a rear shed, and she stacked the books on its doorstep with a sigh of relief. She was through. She would find the ranger for her cub, though, when she came back at the end of the week. He could not elude her forever.
From a pine branch almost over her head a squirrel started to scold angrily, and Judy looked up to laugh at him.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asked. “I don’t want your nuts.”
The squirrel jerked his tail convulsively and danced with rage.
“All right, I’m really Daniel Boone,” she admitted, “but you’re safe anyway. I’m in too much of a hurry to shoot you for a stew.”
Still watching his antics, she hopped off the step only to stop and listen again. Now something was hissing like a basketball with a bad leak. Puzzled, she glanced down at the path and recoiled in horror. Stretched out in front of her was the largest snake she had ever seen. Then while she stood there, frozen, persistently and unmistakably his tail began to rattle.
With a curious objective detachment, Judy could hear her own voice rising in a scream. But screaming wouldn’t help, she thought wildly. That was what the squirrel was doing and he was safe in a tree. Desperately she jumped back on the doorstep and grabbed for a book. If she could make that thing strike at something, she might get past him.
Her hands icy, she scaled the book at the snake’s head and got ready to run. Only suddenly there was no need. A human rocket in a green uniform was already diving across the path.
“Hey, quit it!” he shouted indignantly. “You’ll hurt that snake!”
2 • Assistant Ranger Timothy Wade
THE COLOR FLAMED BACK INTO JUDY’S FACE AS SHE gaped down at the top of the ranger’s dark head. She had never been more furious at anyone in her life.
“What do you mean don’t hurt him?” she snapped. “He was rattling his tail. I heard him.”
“Of course he was,” the ranger said. He struggled to his feet with two yards of snake in his arms, and eyed her reproachfully. “Wouldn’t you make fierce noises if somebody tried to tramp on you?”
His voice sounded so aggrieved that Judy felt herself beginning to laugh. Then, to her dismay, she discovered she couldn’t stop. The more alarmed the ranger looked, the harder she laughed.
“Here, stop that,” he ordered, and Judy promptly stopped to glare at him. Who did he think he was to order her around? He couldn’t be more than a year or so older than she was! She opened her mouth to say something withering, but he didn’t give her a chance.
“Relax, will you?” he begged. “Nobody’s found a poisonous snake in Maine for a hundred years. This pine snake was just putting on a show so you’d leave him alone. If you’d come look at his eyes, you’d know next time. Rattlers have elliptical pupils. This snake’s are round as marbles.”
But Judy refused to budge.
“I don’t care what he is,” she said firmly. “I still don’t like him.”
“Well, you would if you knew him better,” the ranger assured her. “Believe it or not, snakes make good pets.” He scratched the pine snake under the chin and smiled at her cheerfully. “This fellow’s a summer resident like you. I drove him down from New Jersey.”
Fortunately for her blood pressure, Judy was too aghast even to notice the comparison. She was staring at him, appalled.
“You mean you actually had that thing in a car with you?” she demanded. “What were you trying to do, panic the parkways?”
“Okay, okay, you win,” the ranger conceded soothingly.