“Why do they haul the hospital refuse away on a barge instead of burning it in the incinerator as they do in other hospitals?”
“We had an explosion at the incinerator several weeks ago. For some reason they’ve been slow in getting it fixed.”
“I see,” said Kitty with a significant nod. “And in the meantime I suppose the garbage is hauled off somewhere in the marshes and burned?”
“That’s right.” Suddenly her father’s face became very serious, and he sent her a penetrating glance. “What are you driving at, Kitty, with all these strange questions?”
“Haven’t time to explain now,” she said evasively. For so long Kitty had had to solve her own problems, when her father was at distant stations, that she had not yet learned how to make a confidant of him. Nor did she want to run the risk of having him put a stop to her investigations. But she made bold to ask one further question.
“Do you know where they haul the garbage, Dad?”
He led her to the window and pointed across the marshes. “See that smoke on the horizon.”
“We couldn’t stand the stench if it was too close. Even at that distance a southwest wind will bring the odor into my window. I’ll surely be thankful when they use the incinerator again.”
Kitty’s mind was clicking like a teletype machine as she left the hospital. She hadn’t used their boat in a week, and felt she was entitled to a little gasoline for explorations.
Billy looked forward to these weekly visits to town with keen delight, so Kitty didn’t have the heart to curtail his enjoyment. They paid their usual visit to the toy department at the dime store, and took a peep at the ducks in Bayshore Park. At noon they ate at a lunch counter, perched on high stools, which Billy adored. Afterward Kitty made her weekly food purchases at the grocery store on Bay Street, opposite where she always left her boat.
When the grocery boy had packed her things into the launch Kitty looked at Billy, gave him a knowing wink and asked, “Want to go exploring?”
Billy’s eyes grew round. “Into a cove or somepen, where pirates hide their booty?”
“No telling what we’ll find ’way off in the marshes.”
It was already one-thirty, and at five Vera was to pick Kitty up for the trip to the beach. She would have to do her exploring in that interval of time. She had made a careful note of the location of that smoke smudge on the horizon, as her father pointed it out from his office. However, Kitty didn’t feel sufficiently familiar with the marshy inlets to take a short cut to the spot. She decided the safest course was to return near enough to Palmetto Island to get her bearings from there, and seek out the channel through which the barge from the hospital traveled in going to the dump.