jerked back. As I did, a long, horribly sharp blade about two feet long snapped out of the pine-needle-covered floor of the ledge between me and Spike and buried itself in the side of the bluff. It passed through the place where my throat would have been if I hadn't suddenly leaped back to avoid Spike's teeth.
Spike and I sat there for a while in silence. He looked as stunned as I felt. When my pulse had slowed down to a mere twice its normal rate, I leaned over and examined every square inch of the ground around me as carefully as I could without touching anything. The machete was attached to one side of a set of steel jaws that must have come from an animal trap. The other side was anchored in place, so when you tripped the spring the blade sprang up from the ground, sliced through the air in a lethal semicircle and buried itself in the side of the bluff. The whole contraption was invisible, hidden under leaves and pine needles on the floor of the ledge. The spring that made it snap shut like a mousetrap had been placed just where I'd have put my hand if Spike hadn't lunged at me. In an unprecedented display of common sense, Spike waited patiently while I searched. The rain and darkness didn't make the job any easier, and I was still more than a little nervous when I finally gave up the examination, prodded the machete--or whatever it was--with a stick to make sure it wasn't going to move anymore, and turned back to Spike.
'Seeing as how you saved my life, I might forgive you one or two little nibbles,' I told him. 'On the other hand, I wouldn't object to a little gratitude.'
He only snapped a few times, not even really trying, while I untangled his collar. As soon as I freed him, he kicked dirt in my eyes trying to scramble up the bank before falling back onto the ledge, panting with exhaustion. He made several more feeble attempts to climb up, then subsided, and looked at me, shivering piteously, with a peevish, expectant look on his face.
'I suppose now you expect me to haul you up the bank,' I said. He growled, then whined and cringed at a particularly violent clap of thunder. It was raining steadily now, and dozens of little waterfalls and rivulets were making the side of the bluff even more slippery than ever.
'Oh, all right.' I took off my jacket and managed to wrap him up in it--without getting bitten--so that only his head stuck out. I buttoned it up, tied the arms together, slung it over my shoulder, and began the precarious climb up to the top of the hill. Hoping that whoever put that blade there considered one booby trap enough.
I slipped and nearly fell half a dozen times, skinned my hands badly on some rocks, and was covered with mud to the teeth. At least Spike was too exhausted to cause trouble. I could feel him shivering against me. I was just pulling myself over the edge of the bank when suddenly a figure loomed up above me. I almost lost hold of the rope and gave a small, startled shriek, and then a flash of lightning showed that it was Michael.
'My God, what happened?' he said, hauling me up the last few feet.
'Found Spike,' I panted.
'Oops!' I was so tired from all my climbing that my knees gave out when I tried to stand. I had to grab onto Michael to keep from falling.
'I can't believe you'd risk your life to save that damned little monster,' Michael said, wrapping an arm around me to keep me upright. 'You're incredible. Are you all right?'
To tell the truth, I was light-headed, partly from exhaustion and partly because I was rather irrationally enjoying the feeling of having Michael's arm around me. Don't be an idiot, I told myself, and I could tell that Michael felt uncomfortable as well, because his smile was suddenly replaced with a very serious look. But before I could pull back to a more suitable distance--
'Damn!' I yelped, as Spike suddenly became impatient and bit me on the arm. Snarling and growling, he wriggled out of the sling I'd carried him in and ran barking off into the night. Of course when he bit me, I'd jumped, and that caused the bank to start crumbling under my feet, and I would have fallen over the bluff if Michael had not pulled me after him to safety.
'Thank you,' I said, as I examined my latest wound. 'Unlike Spike, I appreciate having my life saved.'
'He's had his shots,' Michael said. 'I'd better come and help you clean it, though.'
'Don't be silly, Michael,' I said, pulling away. 'I crawled fifteen feet up the damned bluff; I can crawl a few more feet to my own back door.'
'Sorry,' he said.
'No, I'm sorry,' I said. 'That was uncalled for. It's just that--is your phone working?'
'No, it went out hours ago,' he said. 'Why?'
'Never mind, I'll tell you in the morning.' And calling the sheriff would have to wait until the morning, too. I decided that any clues not already washed away would still be there in the morning. I was so exhausted that I barely managed to pull my clothes off and make it to the bed before I fell asleep.
Thursday, July 21
The next morning I called Michael and Dad and asked them to meet me at the bluff, and then called the sheriff. I had to leave a message; the dispatcher had no idea where he was or when he'd be back. By the time I'd convinced one of the deputies to hunt the sheriff down, Michael was already waiting by the bluff.
'The suspense is killing me,' he said. 'What is the life-or-death matter you mentioned over the phone?'
'Wait a minute,' I said. 'Here comes Dad; I wanted him to see this, too.'
'Is this important, Meg?' Dad said. 'I really ought to be over at the Brewsters. Their gardener has no idea how to get the lawn ready for an outdoor event. And I want to finish before everyone gets here tomorrow afternoon.'
'I'll help you stomp gophers later, Dad,' I said. 'This is very important.'
My rope was still tied to the tree, but I didn't think I wanted to climb down it again, and I didn't think Dad should. Under my direction, the two of them maneuvered Dad's longest ladder into place against the bluff and we climbed down that way.
They were both appalled at the sight of the booby trap.
'You're lucky to be alive,' Michael said, looking pale.
'And I hope you took a shower last night before you went to bed,' Dad said, in what seemed, even for him, a monumental non-sequitur.
'Dad, I was bone tired and already soaking wet,' I said. 'What does it matter if I took a shower or not?'
'Meg, these are poison ivy vines!' Dad exclaimed.
'Oh, no,' Michael and I said in unison. 'Don't worry, Michael,' Dad said, shooing us back up the ladder, 'If you take a long, hot shower with plenty of soap, you should have no trouble. Washes off the sap that causes the irritation.'
'I can't possibly have poison ivy,' I wailed. 'I have to be in a wedding in two days.'
'Just as soon as the sheriff has finished looking at this, I'm going to hack down all of the poison ivy,' Dad announced. 'Of course the children shouldn't be down here, but you can't always keep them from wandering. And Michael, you'd better wash that dog of yours. He could be carrying the sap on his fur.'
With that, he trotted off to shower.
'Oh, great,' Michael said. 'Do you have any idea how thrilled Spike is going to be when I try to wash him?'
'Probably about as thrilled as he was to be tied up on that ledge. If we want to find out who set that trap, I think we should keep our eyes open for anyone with fresh Spike bites.'
'I guess that makes me a suspect,' Michael said. 'I'm always covered with fresh Spike bites.'
'And poison ivy,' I said. 'Don't forget the poison ivy.'
With these comforting thoughts, we both headed off for the showers. To no avail, at least in my case. By evening, I was starting to break out in blisters all over my arms and shins. The sheriff, wisely, inspected the booby trap from afar. When Dad showed up around dinnertime, I asked him to prescribe something for the itching.
'I have some interesting new ideas for treating poison ivy with natural herbs,' he announced with great satisfaction. 'Don't put anything on the left arm; we'll use that as a control and divide the right one up into patches so we can see which course of treatment works best.'
