The Normal Record. March 1905

              THE NORMAL RECORD.
II
see. Lee Gim's going to make 'em into soup.
He eats it. Let's go over and make a bargain?
We'll catch all the turtles he wants, fur dimes.
Then we'll see who goes to the circus."
"That's so," the rest exclaimed.
"I know Where's a hole full of 'em!" exclaimed little Peter, as they swarmed down
from the woodpile.
"Sh—sh—sh! You're not to tell a livin'
soul." Andrew shook little Peter.
"I might tell ma."
"No,   you   don't   either,"   threatened   Rufus.
"If you're goin' to be a tattler, that lets
you out of this game.   You goin'to tell?   Huh!"
Peter began to cry.
"Cry-y-y, baby, cry-y-y, stick your finger in
your eye-e-e."
"I never," snapped Peter, rushing on his tormentors with vigorous feet and grimy, clawing
fingers.
He stopped and wailed.
"I want to go-o."
"Well, but you're goin' to tall."
"Aint, neither," sniffed Peter.
"Not even ma?"
"No-o-o."
"Come on then," was Nikey's command,
while Peter tearfully followed, alternately
kicking the heels of the boys in front and
throwing dust at their backs.
So they arrived at the Freeman ranch and
a bargain was struck wherein, for "free cint"
a piece for the small ones and "sixie cint"
apiece for the large ones they were to furnish
Lee Gim with mud turtles. For a time business
was flush and the market firm, while great
visions of circus shone in the skies of anticipation, and Lee faithfully handed over the
price  agreed  upon.
In addition to the supply he had when Miss
Swift found him he acquired a second barrel
full and then a third. This thriving colony increased at such a rate that he even arranged
to supply friends in Chinatown with what he
considered a great delicacy. Lee provided his
turtles with table scraps and they put on flesh
and fat apace. Occasionally, one of the largest
would be missing, while a sparkle in Gim's
little pig eyes and a smacking of his lips attested to its succulent quality.
The boys found the water holes well stocked
with turtles. No matter how well they were
cleared of their tenants one day the next day's
catch was just as prolific a yield. They met
often and jingled their nickles and dimes, and
talked circus, planning how much they needed,
though all the wnile doubtful as to their respective mothers' inclinations in that direction.
But the money was what they were the most
concerned about now. Like the day of reckoning, the rest was put aside till later.
The time came when Lee Gim bore an uneasy, dissatisfied manner. His small, black
eyes scanned the fences and bushes cautiously.
He took occasion to be outside much of the
time and would leave his work to stand in the
door and gaze ruefully at his turtle barrels.
Any inquiry was met with the remark:
"O-lo-some boy, he heap big lie. Steal um
me."
The fact was that Lee had missed some of his
livestock. Each morning found fewer in the
barrels than there were the night before.
That year the rains fell late and because
the showers always came in the night, he failed
to catch the thieves. When everybody was
asleep and everything quiet, Lee would arise
cautiously and go stealing out, clip, clap, clip,
clap, in his Chinese shoes, not to return until
he made a tour of the premises. Listening a
moment here, hiding a moment there in the
dark shadow, peeking out expectantly. Then
rain drops would begin to fall and he would be
driven to the shelter of the bunkhouse and his
blankets. More turtles were always missing
next morning, and what mystified Lee nearly
as much, the barrels contained more water than
they had the evening before. Nothing gave
any clue. Not even foot prints in the mud
lent a suspicion on which to build a conclusion.
Thieves had plundered his barrels he knew.
He shook his head, but remained watchful.
Every method of detection failed. At last he
tried tying a white string to one leg each of
half a dozen turtles. Close up under the shells
he tied the strings, where they would escape
being seen, then he put two of his marked
creatures in one barrel, two in another and two
in the next.
In the afternoon following the second stormy
night the boys appeared bearing sacks and
cans in which kicked and squabbled the products of their days labor. Lee Gim bought
all with a sober face. He felt sure his detective efforts were to be rewarded and disregarded the few cents spent in the accomplishment of so exciting a purpose. After the
boys departed he examined his purchases, and
triumphantly found four white strings—
each on the leg of its particular turtle.    Lee