Danny Orlis and the Angle Inlet Mystery Read online

  Danny Orlis and the Angle Inlet Mystery

  by

  Bernard Palmer

  Illustrated by David Miles

  P. O. Box 1099 • Murfreesboro, Tennessee 37133

  (800) 251-4100 • (615) 893-6700 • FAX (615) 848-6943

  www.SwordoftheLord.com

  Copyright 1955 by

  The Moody Bible Institute of Chicago

  Reprinted 2008 with

  Permission of Marge Palmer by

  Sword of the Lord Publishers

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (printed, written, photocopied, electronic, audio or otherwise) without prior written permission of the publisher.

  All Scripture quotations are from the King James Bible.

  Contents

  Chapter One - Danny’s News

  Chapter Two - Strange Guests

  Chapter Three - A Call on Rick Thunderbird

  Chapter Four - Bob Skips Church

  Chapter Five - Rick Returns the Call

  Chapter Six - Search Begun

  Chapter Seven - Mike Makes a Decision

  Chapter Eight - Bob Changes Some Ideas

  Chapter Nine - The Strangers’ Map

  Chapter Ten - A Night Prowler

  Chapter Eleven - Danny to the Rescue

  Chapter Twelve - The Real Treasure

  Illustrations

  Oh boy! A real honest buried treasure!

  The bag! Get it! Get it!

  Why that’s old Rick’s boat.

  There stood a huge, towering moose!

  God sent His Son for me?

  What’s on your mind, Boys?

  The house looked as though a tornado had gone through it.

  Is he dead?

  It’s the real thing all right!

  He could faintly make out the heavy bulk of someone against the moonlight.

  The dog sprang across the little clearing.

  Chapter One

  Danny’s News

  DANNY ORLIS, with his dog Laddie by his side, walked slowly to the corner. Danny looked up the highway for a glimpse of the International Falls Bus which should have pulled into Warroad, Minnesota an hour before.

  "They'll be along in a minute, Laddie," he said to the mixed collie and shepherd dog beside him. His voice was tense with excitement. "They'll be along in a minute," he said again.

  He could hardly wait to tell them what he had overheard coming out on the boat from American Point. He could tell them the thing that had sent the blood rushing to his cheeks and caused his spine to tingle with excitement, the thing that had kept him awake for half the night and even now set his heart to pounding. Treasure! And hidden in his own Angle Inlet territory! It was enough to make him excited. He looked up the street again, then turned and walked slowly toward the hotel. If only the twins would come!

  Danny Orlis was not especially tall for all of his twelve years, but he was lean and wiry, strong as a hickory sapling and quick as a deer that inhabited his native Northwest Angle in Northern Minnesota. His face was burned brown from long months out of doors in the sun and rain. His eyes had already taken on a sharp, alert look, and he carried himself with the easy grace of one who could walk or swim all day.

  There was a dull rumble up the street, and Danny turned quickly to see the bus braking to a stop. Bob and Mike Lance were the first ones off. They took a step or two out onto the sidewalk, stopped, and looked nervously about. Danny would have known them anywhere.

  "Hi," he called to them.

  "Hi, yourself," Mike said.

  Bob only grunted.

  "Boy, I thought you two were never going to get here," Danny said as he picked up one of their suitcases and led them down the wide street toward the dock on Lake of the Woods. "The boat is due to sail at 8 o'clock. If we miss it we'll have to stay until tomorrow morning."

  "That wouldn't be so bad," Bob said. "Even staying in this dump of a town would be better than going out in the—the wilderness where we're headed."

  "Oh, you'll like it out at Angle Inlet," Danny said quickly. It was all he could do to keep from telling his secret now—but it wasn't safe out here on the street. Better wait until they were safely out on the boat, headed across the Lake of the Woods toward Oak and Flag Islands and Angle Inlet. "We've got the best fishing in the country and all sorts of big game."

  "You can have them," Bob said. "I'll take St. Paul."

  "Oh, don't pay any attention to him," Mike said, laughing. "He's just mad because Mom got sick and we had to come up here to the Northwest Angle to spend the summer with you."

  "We could've stayed at home," Bob went on, "where we could have some fun. Why, I'll bet they don't even have a show out where you live, Dan."

  "A show?" Danny echoed. "Why, we don't have any roads or electricity or towns out on the Angle. I guess we don't have any shows." Then he added, "Of course I wouldn't go to them if we did have."

  "You wouldn't go to a show?" Bob repeated. "Why not?"

  "Well, you see," Danny told him, hoisting the suitcase into the lower deck of the boat, the Bert Steele, "I'm a Christian, and I feel it's better not to go to shows. There's so much drinking and gambling and sin in them."

  "I never heard of such a thing as not going to shows," Bob said as he scrambled into the fisheries' boat after his brother. "But I might have expected that from a hayseed."

  "What do you mean by being a Christian?" Mike asked.

  "I mean that I've confessed my sins before God and put my trust in Jesus Christ to save me," Danny said, sitting down on the corner of a box of tools. "And because I'm a Christian I try to live as close to the way Jesus would want me to live as I possibly can."

  "A Christian!" Bob snorted. "Sissy stuff."

  "Aw, cut it out, Bob, will you?" Mike said. He was the taller of the twins, blond and good-natured, where Bob was dark-headed and sour.

  "I've got a secret I want to let you in on," Danny whispered as they stood together at the ladder that led up to the top deck; "but we've got to be sure that we're alone before I can tell you."

  Mike's eyes sparkled with excitement, but Bob was unimpressed. "What are you going to do?" he asked, "tell us that you know where an old mother rabbit has her nest?"

  "You wait and see," Dan told him.

  They climbed up the ladder and went to the back of the deck where they found a private corner away from the other passengers.

  "Now what was this secret you were going to tell us?" Mike whispered.

  "Well, I—" Danny began. But just then the captain of the Bert Steele called to him.

  "Say, Danny, would you come down and move these suitcases for me? I've got a load of lumber and a couple of outboard motors that go out to Oak."

  "I'll be back in just a minute," he said to the twins.

  "I'Il go," Bob said, getting quickly to his feet. "It's our stuff anyway."

  Before Danny could protest, Bob had climbed down the ladder to the lower deck where the fish and freight were hauled.

  "I wonder what came over him?" Mike said.

  In a few minutes Danny heard his dog growl. "I wonder what's wrong with Laddie?" he asked.

  "Sounds like he's got someone cornered," Mike said.

  Laddie growled again, deep down in his throat. "It sure does sound like he's got someone cornered," Danny said, getting to his feet and starting toward the ladder. "He doesn't usually act like that."

  Just then Bob screamed. "Danny! Get him off!" he cried. "Danny! Danny! He's killing me! Get me loose! Get me loose!"

  Danny ran and de
scended the ladder to the lower deck. There was Laddie holding Bob's hand between his teeth. The hair on the back of his neck was ruffed, and his long sharp teeth were bared. His jaws were trembling, and he was still growling.

  "Get me loose, Danny!" Bob cried. "He's killing me!"

  "Laddie!" Danny ordered sharply. "Laddie Boy. Come!"

  The big dog looked at him appealingly, then loosed his hold on the frightened Bob and moved obediently to Danny's side.

  "What's the matter, fella?" Danny spoke sternly to his dog.

  "He tried to kill me. That's what he did. He tried to kill me."

  "And if he'd been my dog," Captain Anderson put in, "I believe I'd have let him go. I saw how you kicked him in the face as you went by him."

  Danny turned to his cousin, his eyes blazing. Bob took a step or two backwards, his face flushing.

  "Don't you ever do that again," Danny said softly. "Don't you ever lay hands on my dog again."

  Without saying a word Bob whirled and went back to the top deck. For several minutes he sat there rubbing his hand that Laddie had clamped down on. The dog's teeth hadn't broken the skin, but there were deep tooth marks that would be black and blue the next morning.

  The big boat backed slowly away from the docks, turned and began to make her way slowly out of the harbor. There was a brisk wind blowing, and long, deep-troughed waves were rolling across the lake as the boat headed for Buffalo Point.

  For a while the boys said nothing. Whenever Danny would look at Bob, the city boy would turn away. There were several other passengers, fishermen or summer residents going out to the resort spots of the Lake of the Woods, but they gathered in the seats at the front of the boat, leaving the boys almost alone.

  Finally Mike said, "Now what is that secret you were going to tell us?"

  Danny leaned forward and lowered his voice. "On the way out on the boat last night I was almost asleep in the cabin when a couple of men came in and started to talk; I just couldn't help hearing what they said."

  "Yes, yes, go on." Mike leaned forward until his head nearly touched Danny's. Even Bob moved in a little.

  "The story goes back a long time ago, back to 1735 or so," Danny said softly, "to the time when old Fort Charles was manned by French soldiers, and the Dawson Trail from Angle Inlet to Winnipeg was being used."

  "What's all that got to do with it?" Bob asked impatiently.

  "Keep your shirt on, will you?" Mike exclaimed. "How do you expect Danny to tell us when you keep interrupting all the time?"

  "Well, he starts to tell us what he heard a couple of guys say, and then he switches to a history lesson," Bob replied, scowling darkly. "What I can't figure out is, what's that got to do with it?"

  "It has a lot to do with it," Danny went on, his voice in a hoarse whisper. "There was a lot of travel on the Lake of the Woods at that time. Men traveled over the Great Lakes to the northwest corner of Lake Superior, and canoed across to the Lake of the Woods, and then went across country on the old Dawson Trail to Winnipeg. A lot of furs and gold traveled that route, and the Indians used to raid it every so often." He stopped a moment and looked around. "Those fellows said that there was one traveler about that time named Du Bois with an iron chest filled with gold coins—a whole fortune in them!"

  Mike sucked in his breath sharply and moved a bit closer to Danny.

  "This guy got as far as Fort Charles or Angle Inlet," Dan continued, "when word came of a terrible Indian uprising and massacre on the Dawson Trail. This Monsieur Du Bois got scared and buried his money!"

  "On the Angle?" Mike asked excitedly.

  "On the Angle or one of the islands, somewhere close by," Danny went on. "It couldn't have been far away because the Indians were so wild and hostile and Du Bois was so scared of them he wouldn't have gone far away, gold or no gold."

  "Yes, but why didn't he come back and get it?" Bob asked.

  "He was in a party that got ambushed and killed two days out of Winnipeg," Danny replied. "So his gold is still up here waiting for someone to come along and dig it up."

  "That's right," Mike agreed, "but there's an awful lot of country it could be in. Finding it would be like finding a dime in a mountain of quarters."

  "These fellows talked like they were looking for a map, or part of one. I heard them say that Du Bois had left a map to the treasure."

  "Oh, boy," Bob exclaimed, his eyes shining. "Oh, boy! A real honest buried treasure!"

  "S-s-sh," Danny put a warning finger to his cousin's lips.

  "Do you suppose there's any chance of us f-finding it?" Bob asked.

  "We sure can look," Mike said.

  Bob sighed deeply. "Boy, what wouldn't I do with my share if we find it? I'd buy me a hundred comic books and drink six dozen sodas and see fifty cowboy shows—" He stopped and turned to Danny, and said sneeringly, "Oh, excuse me. You don't go to movies, do you?"

  "That's right," Dan grinned good-naturedly. "I don't go to movies or read comic books, either. Some of them are just about as bad as shows." He started to say more, but stopped abruptly. Two men were coming up the ladder from the lower deck. He grasped Mike's arm with a trembling hand. "It's them!" he said hoarsely. "I sure didn't expect to see them again. It's them!

  Oh boy! A real honest buried treasure!

  Chapter Two

  Strange Guests

  DANNY ORLIS stared as the two strangers climbed the ladder to the upper deck and made their way forward. They lurched along, clutching their heavy suitcases and bracing themselves against the pitch and roll of the boat.

  "It's them!" Danny repeated, the color leaving his face.

  "Are—are you sure?" Bob asked.

  "I know it's them," Danny went on, his voice quivering with excitement. "I'm positive! I'd know them anywhere!"

  The strangers sat down just back of the cabin and began to talk immediately. They leaned close together, and every now and then one or the other would glance nervously about, as though to see whether they were being overheard. One of them was tall and angular with closely cropped black hair and a scar across one cheek that gave him a rough, hard-boiled appearance. The other was short and a roly-poly sort of man with thick lips and a shock of unruly blond hair that refused to stay under his hat.

  "They're from the woods, aren't they?" Mike asked, looking at their mackinaws, their wool shirts and low-cut boots.

  Danny shook his head. "Nope," he said, "they're dudes, both of them. Look how sunburned they are. If they were from up here, they'd be burned brown by the weather. Then, too, their clothes are new, and their gear is new. You don't see anybody else aboard in new outfits, do you?"

  "I guess you're right," Mike said.

  "And look at those hunting knives they're wearing," Danny went on. "We never wear a hunting knife unless we're out in the woods or in a small boat on the lake. These fellows probably think they're fooling everybody, but they're not."

  "What do you suppose they're talking about?" Bob asked.

  "They must be talking about that treasure," Mike whispered, "from the way they keep looking around all the time."

  "I'm going to slip up and see if I can hear what they're saying," Bob said, edging out of his seat.

  "I could get over in the cabin and sit by that open window right next to them. And if they're talking about the treasure, I can really get a line on it."

  "That's the idea," Mike said. "Maybe they'll drop a hint of where they're going to look for it or where they've got the map hidden."

  But Danny shook his head. "No," he said, "we can't do that. We want to find the treasure as bad as they do, but it isn't honest for us to spy around and try to find out everything they know so we can beat them to it."

  "But they've got a map to go by, and we don't have anything," Mike protested. "We don't have the slightest idea of where to begin, and that treasure could be buried anywhere."

  "That's right," Danny said, "but I've got an idea that if we can find the right Indian we can find out a lot about it and where it coul
d be buried. You know they've handed down a lot of things like that in stories from one generation to the next."

  "And in the meantime they'll find the treasure and make off with it," Mike said.

  "Talk about it not being honest to listen to them," Bob put in. "What isn't honest about it? It isn't against the law to listen to people talk."

  "It might not be against the law to listen to them talk," Danny said, "but it certainly isn't Christian."

  "You talk so big," Bob went on. "How did you find out about it in the first place if you didn't listen?"

  "I just happened to hear what they were saying."

  "What's the difference?"

  "There's a lot of difference to me," Danny said.

  The waves were higher now, and the stubby Bert Steele was lifting and falling heavily with each long, rolling breaker. Bob staggered along, clutching the rail, until he came opposite the cabin door. The men were so interested in their conversation they didn't hear him approach. Just as he let go of the rail and stepped towards the cabin, the Bert Steele lurched unexpectedly and caught Bob off balance. He staggered backward two or three steps and tripped over the strangers' suitcase, sending it sliding along the deck.

  "The bag!" the tall one cried, clambering over the seat, as the suitcase scooted toward the lake. "Get it! Get it!"

  By that time the short stranger had somehow climbed over Bob who was sprawled on the deck and threw himself across the suitcase as it teetered on the very edge of the boat, about to fall into the lake.

  "I got it," the short one panted heavily. "I got it."

  "Here, let me help you, Cliff," the tall stranger said, reaching down and taking his plump companion by the arm.

  Sweat was standing out on Cliff's forehead, and his voice was trembling. I thought it was a goner," he panted, "but I got it. I got it." In a moment or two he turned on Bob who was just getting to his feet. "What was the big idea of snooping around us?" he demanded, his face coloring angrily.

  "I—I was going to go into the cabin, and I—I lost my balance," Bob said lamely. "I'm s-sorry. I—"