The White Elephant Mystery (22 page)

Farmers from the vast vegetable gardens to the west, winter tourists, businessmen from the beach hotels and taverns, and distributors from the Farmers’ Exchange who were in the midst of their busiest season were pouring in and out of the bank as the boys climbed out of the car with Mr. Williams.

“Can we go in with you and look around, Pop?” Tommy asked.

“Surest thing you know, if you keep out of the way,” Mr. Williams said. “Not much to see, but they do a terrific business in this place. What with all the farmers, big and little, drawing money every day for their payrolls and all of the money that rolls into the beach places at this time of year, they say over a hundred thousand dollars goes through here every day, in cash. They’re open every day, except Sunday, from eight-thirty in the morning until two in the afternoon.”

“Jeepers, it’s a wonder someone doesn’t rob the place,” Tommy said.

“I’ve thought of that myself,” Mr. Williams said, and then corrected himself hastily. “I mean I’ve thought that it was a wonder
someone
didn’t rob it. I didn’t mean
I
had thought of robbing it.”

They went through the front door and into the high-ceilinged single room that the bank occupied. The cages began at the left and extended from the front of the building almost to the back. There were four tellers’ windows, one with a girl behind it, handling the bustling business of the depositors who had formed in lines at each window. Many of the farmers and businessmen who were depositing and withdrawing cash in large sums had suspicious-looking bulges in their pockets and some of them openly wore guns in holsters strapped to their legs.

Behind the four tellers’ cages a dozen men and women worked feverishly to add to the general bustle with the rattle of their typewriters and business machines. Halfway back in the big room, and behind the cage, was a huge vault that reached all the way to the ceiling. The vault door was open and both Tommy and Djuna exclaimed and pointed as they gazed through the open doorway. Mr. Williams looked and laughed at their excitement as they stared at the stacks of currency inside the vault.

The depositors were lined up on the right-hand side of the room as far back as the end of the cage. Where the cage ended, beyond the vault, there was a partition across the rest of the room that was about three feet high and had a swinging door in it. Behind the partition was a large, flat desk with a genial-faced, white-haired man sitting behind it. There was a sign on his desk that read: M
R
. H
ORACE
H
AMILTON
,
Cashier
. Behind Mr. Hamilton’s desk were a half dozen more men and women busily working at desks. These were all behind the end of the cage and as Mr. Williams took his place on the end of the last line, against the low partition, the white-haired man rose and touched him on the arm. Mr. Williams turned and he and Mr. Hamilton talked business for a moment. Then Mr. Hamilton said, “Are these both your boys?”

“No, just this one—Tommy,” Mr. Williams said, putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Djuna, here, came down to visit Tommy during the holidays. They used to be schoolmates when we lived up North.”

“Well, Djuna,” Mr. Hamilton said. “What do you think of Florida?”

“I think it’s wonderful,” Djuna said earnestly. “I only came yesterday, but I’ve seen more new things in one day than I’ve ever seen in my life before!”

Mr. Hamilton beamed and said, “That’s what we like to hear. You be sure and spread the word around when you get back North, Djuna.”

“Oh, I will,” Djuna said. “I’ll—”

Djuna stopped speaking because a well-dressed, pleasant-faced young man wearing dark sunglasses came through the crowd and spoke to Mr. Hamilton. Mr. Hamilton greeted him genially and said to Mr. Williams, “Have you met Dr. Hammer yet, Mr. Williams?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure,” Mr. Williams said as he shook hands with the young man.

“Dr. Hammer has taken over old Dr. Pulham’s offices upstairs,” Mr. Hamilton explained. “He says he is a first-rate dentist.”

Mr. Williams laughed and Tommy whispered to Djuna, “Shall we tell him about Mrs. Pulham’s cat?” Djuna shook his head as Mr. Williams said, “This is my son, Tommy, Dr. Hammer. I want to bring him in to have his teeth cleaned and checked as soon as you’re ready for business.” Dr. Hammer flashed a nice smile at Tommy as he shook hands with him and said, “We’ll take good care of him.”

After Mr. Williams had introduced Djuna to him, Mr. Hamilton said to Dr. Hammer, “How are things coming along? We want to keep our tenants happy.”

“Oh, it’s slow work getting settled,” said Dr. Hammer. “I’m making a few changes—building some shelves and rearranging some of Dr. Pulham’s equipment. Hope my pounding doesn’t bother you. I’m right overhead, as you know.”

“With those bowling alleys across the arcade from us,” Mr. Hamilton said, “we can’t even hear you. They almost drive us crazy sometimes. I’m sorry, now, that we ever gave them a long-term lease.”

“Those bowling balls certainly don’t sing lullabies,” Dr. Hammer said. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch in my reception room until I find a place I can afford, but it’s no use trying to go to sleep until after the alleys close for the night. It’s usually after midnight, so I sleep late, mornings.”

“Where do you eat?” Mr. Hamilton asked.

“Oh, I make a little toast and some coffee when I get up in the morning,” Dr. Hammer said. “And I usually make myself a sandwich or two for lunch. Then I generally go over to Chuck Nielson’s Restaurant or the Snack Bar, over on the beach, for one good meal a day.”

“Good food Chuck has there,” Mr. Hamilton said.

“Delicious,” Dr. Hammer agreed.

Mr. Williams had moved up the line and had completed his business at the window as Dr. Hammer said good-by to Mr. Hamilton and flipped a hand at Tommy and Djuna.

“I’ll find out about the price of that land for you, Mr. Williams,” Mr. Hamilton said as Mr. Williams rejoined them.

“Thanks,” Mr. Williams said. “Will you know about it in the morning?”

“I should,” said Mr. Hamilton and gave the two boys a friendly smile as they moved away with Mr. Williams.

Outside, Mr. Williams got Tommy’s bike out of the trunk rack of his car. Djuna climbed on the handlebars and Tommy pedaled down the street one block and turned left on Atlantic Avenue and started east toward the beach.

After a few minutes of silent pedaling under a sun that was rising higher and higher in the heavens and getting hotter and hotter as it rose, Djuna snickered and said, “Boy, is that Dr. Hammer going to be surprised when we bring in Mrs. Pulham’s cat!”

“I don’t see why he should be,” Tommy said seriously. “If he’s a good dentist I don’t see why he can’t fix a cat’s teeth as well as a person’s.”

“But a dentist can tell a person to open his mouth,” Djuna reasoned. “How is he going to tell a cat and then get him to keep it open? Mrs. Pulham said her cat had an ulcerated tooth. Boy,
I
wouldn’t want to try to hold him!”

“Oh, they tie them down and put some kind of a prop in their mouth so they can’t close it,” Tommy said. “Don’t you remember that elephant that had an ulcerated tooth when the circus was in Riverton and they had to chain it down to treat it?”
¹

“Jeepers!” Djuna said, and he shivered as he remembered how close that elephant had come to killing him. “I had forgotten about that. I guess if they could treat an elephant’s ulcerated tooth a dentist ought to be able to treat Tootler’s.”

“Tootler? Who’s that?” Tommy asked.

“That’s what Mrs. Pulham calls her cat,” Djuna said.

“Oh,” Tommy said, and after a moment he added, “That Dr. Hammer seemed like a nice man. I hope he doesn’t hurt when
I
go to him.”

Mrs. Pulham was sitting on the front porch of her cottage when the two boys alighted from Tommy’s bike and wheeled it across the lawn. When she saw them she rose, waved a hand, and called, “Sit down while I get Tootler.” When she came back she was carrying the wicker cat basket and both of the boys peered through the screen in the upper part of the door at the big, yellow cat inside. The yellow cat gazed indifferently back at them.

“You tell Dr. Hammer,” Mrs. Pulham said, “that there is a reg’lar harness someplace around his office that Mr. Pulham rigged up to put on Tootler when he treated him.” She chuckled and added, “It’s made of leather and has four pads on it that look like little boxing gloves that kept Tootler from scratching him.”

“Oh, sure,” Tommy said. “We’ll bring him right back as soon as he has finished. Shall we tell him which tooth it is?”

“If he’s any kind of a dentist he’ll know which tooth it is,” Mrs. Pulham snapped. “It’s all swollen up. You better both take hold of the handle of the basket, because Tootler is pretty heavy. And you better leave your bicycle here. If you ever dropped Tootler with that tooth he’d come right through the basket and scratch your eyes out!”

“I guess we better,” Tommy said, and he grinned. “I don’t want to get my eyes scratched out.” They both took hold of the handle of the carrying basket and as they started down the steps Mrs. Pulham said, “I’ll give you each fifty cents when you get back, and some lemonade and cake.” Their faces brightened and they both thanked her over their shoulders as they turned on to Atlantic Avenue and started toward the town.

“How far is it down there?” Djuna asked.

“It’s over half a mile,” Tommy said, and then stopped speaking because Mrs. Pulham interrupted him. She had heard Djuna’s question across the lawn.

“What’re you worryin’ about how far it is for?” she shouted. “My husband walked down there and back twice a day until he was seventy-eight, and there ain’t either one of you over fifty.”

The boys turned startled faces toward her and they both began to giggle. When they started on, Tommy whispered, “She’s something, isn’t she?”

“It’s a good thing for Dr. Hammer
she
didn’t take Tootler down to him,” Djuna whispered back.

When the boys reached the Hamilton Block their arms were weary and the cat bag was becoming increasingly heavy. They plodded through the arcade and up the short flight of stairs in the back. They carefully looked at the names on the doors of the offices along the second floor corridor and could not find either Dr. Hammer’s or Dr. Pulham’s name.

“It’s prob’ly up on the next floor,” Djuna said. “You remember Dr. Hammer said he was right over the bank, and the bank ceiling is so high it must reach up two flights.”

“Oh, sure,” Tommy said.

They plodded up another flight of stairs and on the left of the dark, gloomy corridor they found a sign painted on a glass door that read. D
OCTOR
K
ENNETH
P
ULHAM
,
Dentist
.

“This is it,” Tommy whispered. “Dr. Hammer hasn’t had the name changed yet.”

Djuna nodded and reached forward to knock on the door. The sound reverberated hollowly down the dark corridor and then was partially drowned by the rolling rumble of a bowling ball rushing down an alley, and the resounding crash of bowling pins as the ball reached its destination. They waited for a few moments and then Tommy said, “You better knock louder. He prob’ly couldn’t hear you because of those bowling balls.”

Djuna knocked louder this time and a few moments later they heard someone moving inside the room. Then there was silence again. Djuna and Tommy exchanged glances and then Tommy whispered, “Jeepers, what’s the matter with him? I heard him in there.”

“So did I,” Djuna whispered back. His lips came together a little tighter and he lifted a hand and knocked even harder. After another brief silence, broken only by the rumble of bowling balls and the crash of pins, the lock was turned in the door and it opened a crack and a single eye peered out the narrow slit.

“Just a minute, boys,” Dr. Hammer’s voice said. He closed the door again and they heard him move across the room and back to the door to throw it wide. He was wearing his dark glasses now, as he had been when they saw him in the bank.

“Hello, hello,” he said. “Who are you looking for?”

“We’re looking for you,” Tommy said. “Don’t you remember us? We met you with my father and Mr. Hamilton down in the bank this morning.”

“Of course, of course,” Dr. Hammer said. “Excuse me, boys. I didn’t recognize you. What’s on your minds? Come in.”

The boys entered the reception room of Dr. Hammer’s offices still carrying the cat bag between them. Dr. Hammer looked down at the cat bag and then at both of the boys and although they couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark glasses his face didn’t look any too pleasant. He was wearing a work shirt with the collar open and an old pair of dungarees. There was a cot in a corner of the room and on one of the reception room chairs there was a saw. Beside it was a small pile of sawdust and a number of short pieces of wood that he had evidently sawed across the chair. When neither of the boys spoke he said impatiently, “I’m pretty busy here. What do you want?”

“Mrs. Pulham sent us down,” Djuna said. “She came down yesterday and brought her cat, but you weren’t here. She’s pretty old, so we offered to bring the cat down this morning.”

“Cat!”
Dr. Hammer exploded. “What do
I
want with her cat? If that old—” He bit off what he was going to say and looked at them in speechless exasperation.

“She wants you to lance its tooth,” Tommy said hurriedly. “She said her husband always took care of her cat’s teeth, and she said there was some kind of a leather harness around here that Dr. Pulham made to keep the cat from scratching him.”

“Oh, she did, did she!” Dr. Hammer said and the color of his face almost matched the color of his dark glasses. “A cat with an ulcerated tooth …” He broke off to get his breath and said, “You tell that old bag of …” Again he broke off. After he had swallowed a few times he seemed to gain control of himself and began again.

“Look, boys,” he said, and now they could tell he was smiling. “Let’s look at this thing sensibly. I work my way through college for four years and then work my way through two more to go to dental school, and half starve to death doing it, and that old—and Mrs. Pulham wants me to begin my practice—after six years of study—she wants me to begin my practice by lancing her cat’s tooth! Does that make sense? After you’d worked all those years to get ready, would you want to begin by lancing the molar of some feline quadruped?” Dr. Hammer paced across the room in righteous indignation and whirled at the other end to shout, “No! Of course you wouldn’t. Nor will I!”