Instead, I told about our meeting the Scots. Linda said.
"Didn't you think Ian Selkirk just the handsomest thing you ever saw?"
"I'm no judge of male beauty," I said. "He looked like a well-set-up-man, with the usual number of everything. I don't know that I'd go for that beard, but that's his business."
"He grew it in the war, when he was on a submarine," said Linda.
Denise said: "If you will excuse me, I looked at Mr. Selkirk, too. But yes, he is handsome. And he knows it— maybe a little too well, hem?"
My cousin Linda changed the subject.
At dinner time, George Vreeland came roaring over from the Lodge in an outboard. He did not remember me at first, since I had met the little man only casually, and that back in the thirties when we were mere striplings.
It was plain that Vreeland was sweet on Linda Colton, for all that she was inch taller than he. He talked in grandiose terms of his plans for diving in pursuit of Algy. I said:
"It seems to me that, if there is no monster, you're wasting your time. If there is a monster, and you disturb" it, you'll probably end up in its stomach."
"Oh, Willy!" said Linda. "That's the way he always was, George, even as a boy. Whenever we'd get some beautiful, romantic, adventurous idea, he'd come out with some common-sense remark, like a cynical old gentleman, and shoot down our lovely plan in flames."
"Oh, I'll have something to protect myself with," said Vreeland. "A spear-gun or something—that is, if the goddamned Scotchmen don't harpoon the thing first."
'They told me they had no intention of hurting it," I said.
"Don't trust those treacherous Celts. Trying to stop our motorboats, ha! They'd ruin the whole summer-visitor season, just to get a strip of movie film of the monster."
Soon after dinner, my Aunt Frances called our attention to distant lightning. It flared lavender against the clouds, which hung low above the forested Adirondack ridges.
"George," she said, "since you came by water, you'd better be starting back, unless you want Linda to drive you to the Lodge and come back tomorrow for your boat."
"No, I'll be going," said Vreeland. "I have the night duty tonight."
After he had gone, we talked family matters for an hour or so. Then an outburst of yells brought us out on the porch.
The noise came from the direction of Indian Point. I could see little flickers of light from the Scottish observation post. Evidently the Scots thought they had seen something.
Between flashes of lightning, the lake was too dark to make out anything. "Wait till I get my glasses," I said.
The glasses proved of no help so long as the lake remained dark. Then a bright flash showed me something—a dark lump—out on the lake. It was perhaps a hundred yards away, although it is hard to estimate such distances.
I kept straining my vision, while the three women buzzed with questions. I picked up the thing in several more lightning flashes. It seemed to be moving across my field of vision. It also seemed to rise and fall. At least, it looked different in successive glimpses. I handed the glasses to my aunt, so that the women could have a look.
Then thunder roared and the rain came down. Soon we could see nothing at all. Even the hardy Scots gave up and went back to the Lodge.
When we awoke next morning, it was still raining. We came late to breakfast. When I started to apologize, Linda Colton said:
"Oh, that's all right, Willy. We know that honeymooners like any excuse to stay in bed."
I grinned sheepishly. Denise, who comes of a somewhat straitlaced French Protestant family, stared hard at her orange juice.
That morning, I studied economics for my trust company job. By noon, the rain had stopped and the skies had begun to clear. When the afternoon turned warm, I suggested a swim. Denise said:
"But, Willy, mon cher, if there is a monster there, what if it eats us?"
"Listen, darling, my friends and kinsmen and I have been swimming in these lakes for most of my thirty-two years, and Algy has never bitten any of us. If there is a monster here, it's had plenty of chances.
"Besides, I used to argue with the geology prof at M.I.T. about such monsters. He explained that such a critter needs an area big enough to support the food, such as fish, that it feeds on. Lake Algonquin couldn't have support anything much bigger than a snapping turtle. Il n'y a rien a craindre."
"Well then, how about the alligators and crocodiles that you have in the Florida? They do not need a whole sea to live in," she said.
"In the first place," I explained, "they live in interconnected bodies of water, so they can move around from one to another. You need, not just enough area for one, but fifty or a hundred times that much, to support a breeding population. Otherwise, the species dies out. So don't look for a Plesiosaurus or a Mosasaurus in these lakes. Besides, no alligator—or any reptile of that size— could survive the winters here, where the lakes freeze over."
Denise looked doubtful, but she went swimming. I fear, however, that I do not have enough masochist in me really to enjoy that icy Adirondack water.
When we were dried and changed, we hiked out to Indian Point, partly to warm up and partly to see how the Scots were doing. Present were Farg, MacLachlan, and another man introduced to us as Professor Ballardie. Him I understood to be the big brain of the expedition. They were setting up a searchlight along with their other gear.
"There may be nought to it at all," said Ballardie, a cheerful little gray-haired man. "But this is the only way to find out."
"Aye," said Farg. "If we dinna try, we sanna learn."
I brought up the arguments of the M.I.T. professor of geology. As I expected, for every argument of mine they had ten counter-arguments. I thought it best to pipe down and listen; after all, I was not selling securities in their enterprise. When Ballardie ran out of breath, I asked:
"Where's Mr. Selkirk?"
"He's off this afternoon," said MacLachlan.
Farg added: "Forbye, he'll be makin' hissel braw for the ba'." At least that is what I think he said.
My aunt decided not to go to the "ba'." George Vreeland came across the lake in his motorboat and carried Denise, Linda, and me back to the Lodge. Since this all happened before the era of youthful scruffiness in the sixties, both George and I had donned coat and tie. While we were trudging up the path from the Lodge dock, I could hear Lord Kintyre's booming laugh.
Inside, there was Joe Briggs, fat and red-faced, playing the genial host. I saw what Wallace Farg had meant by Selkirk's making himself "braw for the ba'." Selkirk had on a kilt, complete with sporran, dirk in the stocking, and one of those short little jackets with angular silver buttons—the works. Lord Kintyre was similarly clad, although the rest of the Scots made do with their weathered tweeds. We met Lady Kintyre, a mousey little gray-haired woman, and a couple more Scots whom I had not yet seen.
I was struggling through a rumba with Denise when Vreeland and Linda went by. Selkirk stepped up and tapped Vreeland on the arm. "May I cut in?" he said pleasantly.
I doubt if Vreeland even knew about the custom of cutting. While he gaped. Selkirk whisked Linda neatly out of his arms and danced off with her. When we passed them again, he had turned on the charm, whispering in Linda's ear and making her laugh.
After more dances and drinks, Lord Kintyre roared: "Now we'll show you a couple of Scottish dances. Ian, bring the young lady out here to demonstrate."
Selkirk led out Linda Colton. Having enough trouble with dances that I have practiced in advance, I was happy to steer Denise back to the bar. Since Lord Kintyre was paying, and since my Aunt Frances served nothing stronger than sherry, I was glad to wrap myself around some real booze.