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diff --git a/36130-h/36130-h.htm b/36130-h/36130-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c40f572 --- /dev/null +++ b/36130-h/36130-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8823 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Campfire Girls on Station Island, by Margaret Penrose</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + div.center p {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:center;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h1.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size: 190%; } + h2 {text-align:left; font-weight:normal;} + h1 {font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h2 {font-size:1.2em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:center;} + .larger {font-size:larger;} + .smaller {font-size:smaller;} + table.c {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + div.center p {margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Campfire Girls on Station Island, by +Margaret Penrose</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Campfire Girls on Station Island</p> +<p> or, The Wireless from the Steam Yacht</p> +<p>Author: Margaret Penrose</p> +<p>Release Date: May 16, 2011 [eBook #36130]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMPFIRE GIRLS ON STATION ISLAND***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="figcenter">E-text prepared by Roger Frank, Juliet Sutherland,<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i001' id='i001'></a> +<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' width='60%' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<p style='font-size:1.6em; margin-top:2em;'>The Campfire Girls<br />on Station Island</p> + +<p>OR</p> + +<p style='font-size:1.4em;'>The Wireless from the Steam Yacht</p> + +<p style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;'>By Margaret Penrose</p> + +<p style='margin-top:4em;'>New York<br/> +<span style='font-size:larger'>The Goldsmith Publishing Co.</span><br/> +PUBLISHERS</p> + +<p style='margin-top:4em;'>COPYRIGHT<br/> +BY<br /> +The Goldsmith Publishing Co.</p> + +<p style='margin-bottom:4em;'>Printed in U.S.A.</p> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:1.2em'>CONTENTS</span></p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary=''> +<tr><td style='font-size:smaller'>CHAPTER</td><td></td><td style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>I.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>“O-Be-Joyful” Henrietta</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chI'>1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>II.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>A Puzzling Question</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chII'>9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>III.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>A Flare-Up</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIII'>17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Uncertainties</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIV'>26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>V.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Into Trouble and Out</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chV'>36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Changed Plans</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVI'>47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Forecasts</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVII'>56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Aboard the “Marigold”</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVIII'>63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Gossip Out of the Ether</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIX'>70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>X.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Island Adventures</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chX'>77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Trouble</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXI'>84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>A Double Race</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXII'>91</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>More Than One Adventure</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIII'>98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Something New in Radio</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIV'>107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Henrietta in Disgrace</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXV'>114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>“Radio Control”</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVI'>122</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>The Tempest</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVII'>132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>From One Thing to Another</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVIII'>139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Bound Out</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIX'>147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Something Serious</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXX'>156</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Work for All</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXI'>166</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>A Radio Call That Failed</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXII'>172</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Only Hope</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXIII'>180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXIV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>The Mysterious Message</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXIV'>189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em; white-space:nowrap;'>Saved by Radio</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXV'>196</a></td></tr> +</table> +<h1><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1'></a>1</span><a name='title' id='title'></a>THE CAMPFIRE GIRLS ON STATION ISLAND</h1> +<h2><a name='chI' id='chI'></a>CHAPTER I—“O-BE-JOYFUL” HENRIETTA</h2> +<p> +Jessie Norwood, gaily excited, came +bounding into her sitting room waving a slit +envelope over her sunny head, her face alight. +She wore a pretty silk slip-on, a sports skirt, and +silk hose and oxfords that her chum, Amy Drew, +pronounced “the very swellest of the swell.” +</p> +<p> +Beside Amy in the sitting room was Nell Stanley, +busy with sewing in her lap. The two visitors +looked up in some surprise at Jessie’s boisterous +entrance, for usually she was the demurest of +creatures. +</p> +<p> +“What’s happened to the family now, Jess?” +asked Amy, tossing back her hair. “Who has +written you a billet-doux?” +</p> +<p> +“Nobody has written to me,” confessed Jessie. +“But just think, girls! Here is another five dollars +by mail for the hospital fund.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie had been acting as her mother’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2'></a>2</span> +secretary of late, and Mrs. Norwood was at the head +of the committee that had in charge the raising +of the foundation fund for the New Melford +Women’s and Children’s Hospital. +</p> +<p> +“That radio concert panned out wonderfully,” +Amy said. “If I’d done it all myself it could +have been no better,” and she grinned elfishly. +</p> +<p> +“We did a lot to help,” said Nell seriously. +“And I think it was just wonderful, our singing +into the broadcasting horns.” +</p> +<p> +“This five dollars,” said Jessie, soberly, “was +contributed by girls who earned the money themselves +for the hospital. That is why I am saving +the envelope and letter. I am going to write +them and congratulate them for mother, when I +get time.” +</p> +<p> +“Never was such a success as that radio concert,” +Amy said proudly. “I have received no +public resolution of thanks for suggesting it——” +</p> +<p> +“I am not sure that you suggested it any more +than the rest of us,” laughed Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“I like that!” +</p> +<p> +“I feel that I had a share in it. The Reverend +says it was the most successful money-raising affair +he ever had anything to do with,” laughed +Nell. “And he, as a minister, has had a broad +experience.” The motherless Nell Stanley, young +as she was, was the very efficient head of the +household in the parsonage. She always spoke +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span> +affectionately of her father as “the Reverend.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. It is a week now, and the money continues +to come in,” Jessie agreed. “But now that +the excitement is over——” +</p> +<p> +“We should look for more excitement,” said +Amy promptly. “Excitement is the breath of +Life. Peace is stagnation. The world moves, +and all that. If we get into a rut we are soon +ready for the Old Lady’s Home over beyond +Chester.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m sure,” returned Jessie, a little hotly, “we +are always doing something, Amy. We do not +stagnate.” +</p> +<p> +“Sure!” scoffed her chum, in continued vigor of +speech. “We go swizzing along like a snail! +‘Fast’ is the name for us—tied <em>fast</em> to a post. +Molasses running up hill in January is about our +natural pace here in Roselawn.” +</p> +<p> +Nell burst into gay laughter. “Go on! Keep +it up! Your metaphors are wonderfully apt, Miss +Drew. Do tell us what we are to do to get into +high and show a little speed?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, now, for instance,” said Amy promptly, +her face glowing suddenly with excitement, “I +have been waiting for somebody to suggest what +we are going to do the rest of the summer. But +thus far nobody has said a thing about it.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, Reverend has his vacation next month. +You know that,” said Nell slowly and quite +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +seriously. “It is a problem how we can all go away. +And I am not sure that it is right that we should +all tag after him. He ought to have a rest from +Fred and Bob and Sally and me.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie smiled at the minister’s daughter appreciatively. +“I wonder if <em>you</em> ought not to have a +rest away from the family, Nell?” +</p> +<p> +“Hear! Hear!” cried Amy Drew. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be foolish,” laughed Nell Stanley. “I +should worry my head off if I did not have Sally +with me, anyway. I think we’d better go up to +the farm where we went last year.” +</p> +<p> +“‘Farm’ doesn’t spell anything for me,” said +Amy, tossing her head. “Cows and crickets, horses +and grasshoppers, haystacks and hicks!” +</p> +<p> +“But we could have our radio along,” Jessie +said quietly. “I could disconnect this one”—pointing +to her receiving set by the window—“and +we might carry it along. It is easy enough to +string the antenna.” +</p> +<p> +“O-oh!” groaned her chum. “She calls it easy! +And I pretty nearly strained my back in two distinct +places helping fix those wires after Mark +Stratford’s old aeroplane tore them down.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, you want some excitement, you say,” +said Jessie composedly. She went to the radio +instrument, sat down before it, adjusted a set of +the earphones, and opened the switch. “I wonder +what is going on at this time,” she murmured. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span> +</p> +<p> +Amy suddenly cocked her head to listen, although +it could not be that she heard what came +through the ether. +</p> +<p> +“Listen!” she cried. +</p> +<p> +“What under the sun is that?” demanded the +clergyman’s daughter, in amazement. +</p> +<p> +Jessie murmured at the radio receiver: +</p> +<p> +“Don’t make so much noise, girls. I can’t hear +myself think, let alone what might come over the +air-waves.” +</p> +<p> +“Hear that!” shrieked Amy, jumping up. +“That is no radio message, believe me! It comes +from no broadcasting station. Listen, girls!” +</p> +<p> +She raised the screen at a window and leaned +out. Jessie, removing the tabs from her ears, +likewise gained some understanding of what was +going on outside. A shrill voice was shrieking: +</p> +<p> +“Miss Jessie! Miss Jessie! I got the most +wonderful thing to tell you. Oh, Miss Jessie!” +</p> +<p> +“For pity’s sake!” murmured Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t that little Hen from Dogtown?” asked +Nell Stanley. +</p> +<p> +“That is exactly who it is,” agreed Amy, starting +for the door. “Little Hen is one live wire. +‘O-Be-Joyful’ Henrietta is never lukewarm. There +is always something doing with that child.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you suppose she can be in trouble?” asked +Jessie, worriedly. +</p> +<p> +“If she is, I guarantee it will be something +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +funny,” replied Amy, whisking out of the room. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Jessie! Miss Jessie! I want to tell +you!” repeated the shrill voice from the front of +the Norwood house. +</p> +<p> +“Come on, Jessie,” said Nell, dropping her +work and starting, too. “The child evidently +wants you.” +</p> +<p> +The others followed Amy Drew down to the +porch. The Norwood house where Jessie, an +only child, lived with her mother and her father, +a lawyer who had his office in New York, was a +large dwelling even for Roselawn, which was a +district of fine houses forming a part of the town +of New Melford. The house was set in the +middle of large grounds. Roses were everywhere—beds +and beds of them. At one side was the +boathouse and landing at the head of Lake +Mononset. At the foot of the front lawn was +Bonwit Boulevard, across which stood the house +where Amy Drew lived with her father, Wilbur +Drew, also a New York lawyer, and her mother +and her brother Darrington. +</p> +<p> +But it was that which stood directly before the +gateway of the Norwood place which attracted +the gaze of the three girls. A little old basket +phaeton, drawn by a fat and sleepy looking brown-and-white +pony, and driven by a grinning boy in +overalls and with bare feet, made an object quite +odd enough to stare at. The little girl sitting so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +very straight in the phaeton, and holding a green +parasol over her head, was bound to attract the +amused attention of any on-looker. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, look at little Hen!” gasped Amy, who +was ahead. +</p> +<p> +“And Montmorency Shannon,” agreed Jessie. +“Don’t laugh, girls! You’ll hurt their feelings.” +</p> +<p> +“Then I’ll have to shut my eyes,” declared +Amy. “That parasol! And those freckles! They +look green under it. Dear me, Nell, did you ever +see such funny children in your life as those Dogtown +kids?” +</p> +<p> +Jessie ran down the steps and the path to the +street. When the freckled child saw her coming +she stood up and waved the parasol at the Roselawn +girl. +</p> +<p> +Henrietta Haney was a child in whom the two +Roselawn girls had become much interested while +she had lived in the Dogtown district of New +Melford with Mrs. Foley and her family. Montmorency +Shannon was a red-haired urchin from +the same poor quarters, and he and Henrietta +were the best of friends. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Miss Jessie! Miss Jessie! What d’you +think? I’m rich!” +</p> +<p> +“She certainly is rich,” choked Amy, following +her chum with Nell Stanley. “She’s a scream.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean—that you are rich, Henrietta?” +Jessie asked, smiling at her little protégé. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span> +</p> +<p> +“I tell you, I am rich. Or, I am goin’ to be. +I own an island and everything. And there’s +bungleloos on it, and fishing, and a golf course, +and everything. I am rich.” +</p> +<p> +“What can the child mean?” asked Jessie Norwood, +looking back at her friends. “She sounds +as though she believed it was actually so.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span><a name='chII' id='chII'></a>CHAPTER II—A PUZZLING QUESTION</h2> +<p> +Little Henrietta Haney, with her green +parasol and her freckles, came stumbling +out of the low phaeton, so eager to tell +Jessie the news that excited her that she could +scarcely make herself understood at all. She fairly +stuttered. +</p> +<p> +“I’m rich! I got an island and everything!” +she crowed, over and over again. Then she saw +Amy Drew’s delighted countenance and she +added: “Don’t you laugh, Miss Amy, or I won’t +let you go to my island at all. And there’s radio +there.” +</p> +<p> +“For pity’s sake, Henrietta!” cried Jessie. +“Where is this island?” +</p> +<p> +“Where would it be? Out in the water, of +course. There’s water all around it,” declared +the freckle-faced child in vigorous language. +“Don’t you s’pose I know where an island ought +to be?” +</p> +<p> +At that Amy Drew burst into laughter. In +fact, Jessie Norwood’s chum found it very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span> +difficult on most occasions to be sober when there +was any possibility of seeing an occasion for +laughter. She found amusement in almost everything +that happened. +</p> +<p> +But that made her no less helpful to Jessie +when the latter had gained her first interest in +radio telephony. Whatever these two Roselawn +girls did, they did together. If Jessie planned to +establish a radio set, Amy Drew was bound to +assist in the actual stringing of the antenna and +in the other work connected therewith. They always +worked hand in hand. +</p> +<p> +In the first volume of this series, entitled “The +Radio Girls of Roselawn,” the chums and their +friends fell in with a wealth of adventures, and +one of the most interesting of those adventures +was connected with little Henrietta Haney, whom +Amy had just now called “O-Be-Joyful” Henrietta. +</p> +<p> +The more fortunate girls had been able to assist +Henrietta, and finally had found her cousin, +Bertha Blair, with whom little Henrietta now +lived. By the aid of radio telephony, too, Jessie +and Amy and their friends were able to help in +several charitable causes, including that of the +building of the new hospital. +</p> +<p> +In the second volume, “The Radio Girls on the +Program,” the friends had the chance to speak +and sing at the Stratfordtown broadcasting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +station. It was an opportunity toward which they +had long looked forward, and that exciting day +they were not likely soon to forget. +</p> +<p> +A week had passed, and during that time Jessie +knew that little Henrietta had been taken to Stratfordtown +by her Cousin Bertha, where they were +to live with Bertha’s uncle, who was the superintendent +of the Stratford Electric Company’s sending +station. The appearance of the wildly excited +little girl here in Roselawn on this occasion was, +therefore, a surprise. +</p> +<p> +Jessie Norwood seized hold of Henrietta by +the shoulders and halted her wild career of dancing. +She looked at Montmorency Shannon accusingly +and asked: +</p> +<p> +“Do you know what she is talking about?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure, I do.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, what does she mean?” +</p> +<p> +“She’s been talking like that ever since I picked +her up. This is Cabbage-head Tony’s pony. You +know, he sells vegetables down on the edge of +town. Spotted Snake——” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t call Henrietta that!” cried Jessie, reprovingly. +</p> +<p> +“Well, she gave the name to herself when she +played being a witch,” declared the Shannon boy +defensively. “Anyway, Hen came down to Dogtown +last evening and hired me to drive her over +here this morning.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +</p> +<p> +“And when I get some of my money that’s +coming to me with that island,” broke in Henrietta, +“I’ll buy Montmorency an automobile to +drive me around in. This old pony is too slow—a +lot too slow!” +</p> +<p> +“Listen to that!” crowed Amy, in delight. +</p> +<p> +“But do tell us about the island, child,” urged +Nell Stanley, likewise interested. +</p> +<p> +“A man came to Cousin Bertha’s house, where +we live with her uncle. <em>His</em> name is Blair, too; +it isn’t Haney. Well, this man said: ‘Are you +Padriac Haney’s little girl?’ And I told him yes, +that I wasn’t grown up yet like Bertha. And so +he asked a lot of questions of Mr. Blair. They +was questions about my father and where he was +married to my mother, and where I was born, and +all that.” +</p> +<p> +“But where does the island come in?” demanded +Amy. +</p> +<p> +“Now, don’t you fuss me all up, Miss Amy,” +admonished the child. “Where was I at!” +</p> +<p> +“You was at the Norwood place. I brought +you,” said young Shannon. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you think I know <em>that</em>?” demanded the +little girl scornfully. “Well, it’s about Padriac +Haney’s great uncle,” she hastened to say. +“Padriac was my father’s name and his great +uncle—I suppose that means that he was awful +big—p’r’aps like that fat man in the circus we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +saw. But his name was Padriac too, and he left +all his money and islands and golf courses to my +father. So it is coming to me.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” exclaimed Nell Stanley. “Did +you ever hear such a jumbled-up affair?” +</p> +<p> +But Montmorency Shannon nodded solemnly. +“Guess it’s so. Mrs. Foley was telling my mother +something about it. And Spot—I mean, Hen, +must have fallen heiress to money, for she give +me a whole half dollar to drive her over here,” +and his grin appeared again. +</p> +<p> +“What I want to know is the name of the +island, child?” demanded Amy, recovering from +her laughter. +</p> +<p> +“Well, it’s got a name all right,” said Henrietta. +“It is Station Island. And there’s a hotel +on it. But that hotel don’t belong to me. And +the radio station don’t belong to me.” +</p> +<p> +“O-oh! A radio station!” repeated Jessie. +“That sounds awfully interesting. I wonder +where it is!” +</p> +<p> +“But the golf course belongs to me, and some +bungleloos,” added the child, mispronouncing the +word with her usual emphasis. “And we are +going out to this island to spend the summer—Bertha +and me. Mrs. Blair says we can. And +she will go, too. The man that knows about it +has told the Blairs how to get there and—and—I +invite you, Miss Jessie, and you, Miss Amy, to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span> +come out on Station Island and visit us. Oh, we’ll +have fun!” +</p> +<p> +“That sounds better than any old farm,” cried +Amy, gaily. “I accept, Hen, on the spot. You +can count on me.” +</p> +<p> +“If it is all right so that we can go, I will promise +to visit you, dear,” Jessie agreed. “But, you +know, we really will have to learn more about +it.” +</p> +<p> +“Cousin Bertha will tell you,” said the freckle-faced +child, eagerly. “I run away to come down +here to the Foleys, so as to tell you first. You +are the very first folks I have ever invited to come +to live on my island.” +</p> +<p> +“Ain’t you going to let me come, Spot—I mean, +Hen?” asked Monty Shannon, who sat sidewise +on the seat and was paying very little attention +to the pony. +</p> +<p> +As a matter of fact, the pony belonging to the +vegetable vender was so old and sedate that one +would scarcely think it necessary to watch him. +But at this very moment a red car, traveling at +a pace much over the legal speed on a public +highway, came dashing around the turn just below +the Norwood house. It took the turn on +two wheels, and as it swerved dangerously toward +the curb where the pony stood, its rear wheels +skidded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +“Look out!” shrieked Amy. “That car is out +of control! Look, Jess!” +</p> +<p> +Her chum, by looking at it, nor the observation +of any other bystander, could scarcely avert the +disaster that Amy Drew feared. But she was so +excited that she scarcely knew what she shouted. +And her mad gestures and actions utterly amazed +Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Have you got Saint Vitus’s dance, Amy +Drew?” Jessie demanded. +</p> +<p> +The red, low-hung car wabbled several times +back and forth across the oiled driveway. They +saw a hatless young fellow in front behind the +wheel. In the narrow tonneau were two girls, +and if they were not exactly frightened they did +not look happy. +</p> +<p> +Nell Stanley cried: “It’s Bill Brewster’s racing +car; and he’s got Belle and Sally with him.” +</p> +<p> +“Belle and Sally!” shrieked Amy. +</p> +<p> +Belle Ringold and her follower, Sally Moon, +were not much older than Amy and Jessie, but +they were overbearing and insolent and had made +themselves obnoxious to many of their schoolmates. +Wishing to appear grown up, and wishing, +above all things, to attract Amy’s brother +Darry and Darry’s chum, Burd Alling, and feeling +that in some way the two Roselawn chums +interfered in this design, they were especially unpleasant +in their behavior toward them. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +Sometimes Belle and Sally had been able to +make the Roselawn girls feel unhappy by their +haughty speech and what Amy called their “snippy +ways.” Just now, however, circumstances forbade +the two unpleasant girls annoying anybody. +</p> +<p> +The others had identified the reckless driver +and his passengers. At least, all had recognized +the party save Montmorency Shannon. He just +managed to jump out of the phaeton in time. The +pony was still asleep when the rear of the skidding +red car crashed against the phaeton and crushed +it into a wreck across the curbstone. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span><a name='chIII' id='chIII'></a>CHAPTER III—A FLARE-UP</h2> +<p> +The red car stopped before it completely +overturned. Then, when the exhaust was +shut off, the screams of the two girls in +the back seat could be heard. But nobody shouted +any louder than Montmorency Shannon. +</p> +<p> +The red-haired boy had leaped from the phaeton +and had seized the pony by the bit. Otherwise +the surprised animal might have set off for home, +Amy said, “on a perfectly apoplectic run.” +</p> +<p> +The little animal stood shaking and pawing, +nothing but the shafts and whiffle-tree remaining +attached to it by the harness. The rear wheels of +the racing car were entangled in the phaeton and +it was slewed across the road. +</p> +<p> +“Now see what you’ve done! Now see what +you’ve done!” one of the girls in the car was saying, +over and over. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I couldn’t help it, Belle,” whined the +reckless young Brewster. “You and Sally Moon +aren’t hurt. And you asked to ride with me, anyway.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I don’t mean you, Bill!” exclaimed the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +girl behind him. “But that horrid boy with his +pony carriage! What business had he to get in the +way?” +</p> +<p> +“Hey! ’Tain’t my carriage, you Ringold girl,” +declared Monty Shannon. “It’s Cabbage-head +Tony’s. He’ll sue your father for this, Bill Brewster. +And you come near killing me and the pony.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t see how you came to be standing just +there,” complained the driver of the red car. “You +might have been on the other side of the drive.” +</p> +<p> +“He ought to have been!” declared Belle Ringold +promptly. “He was headed the wrong way. +I’ll testify for you, Bill. Of course he was headed +wrong.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, you’re another!” cried Monty. “If I’d +been headed the wrong way you’d have smashed +the pony instead of the carriage.” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind what they say, Monty,” Jessie +Norwood put in quietly. “There are three of us +here who saw the collision, and we can testify to +the truth.” +</p> +<p> +“And me. I seen it,” added Henrietta eagerly. +“Don’t forget that Spotted Snake, the Witch, seen +it all. If you big girls tell stories about Monty +and that pony, you’ll wish you hadn’t—now you +see!” and she began making funny gestures with +her hands and writhing her features into perfectly +frightful contortions. +</p> +<p> +“Henrietta!” commanded Jessie Norwood, yet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +having hard work, like Nell and Amy, to keep +from laughing at the freckle-faced child. “Henrietta, +stop that! Don’t you know that is not a +polite way—nor a nice way—to act?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Miss Jessie, they won’t know that,” +complained little Henrietta. “They are never nice +or polite.” +</p> +<p> +At this statement Monty Shannon burst out +laughing, too. The red-haired boy could not be +long of serious mind. +</p> +<p> +“Never you mind, Brewster,” he said to the unfortunate +driver of the red car, who was notorious +for getting into trouble. “Never mind; we ain’t +killed. And your father can pay Cabbage-head +Tony all right. It won’t break him.” +</p> +<p> +“You impudent thing!” exclaimed Belle Ringold, +who was a very proud and unpleasant girl. +“You are always making trouble for people, +Montmorency Shannon. It was you who would +not finish stringing our radio antenna at the Carter +place and so helped spoil our picnic.” +</p> +<p> +“He didn’t! He didn’t!” ejaculated Henrietta, +dancing up and down in her excitement. “It was +me—Spotted Snake! I brought down the curse of +bad weather on your old picnic—the witch’s curse. +I’m the one that brought thunder and lightning +and rain to spoil your fun. And I’ll do it again.” +</p> +<p> +She was so excited that Jessie could not silence +her. Sally Moon burst into a scornful laugh, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +her chum, Belle, said, fanning herself as she sat in +the stalled car: +</p> +<p> +“Don’t give them any attention. These Roselawn +girls are just as low as the Dogtown kids. +Thank goodness, Sally, we will get away from +them all for the rest of the summer.” +</p> +<p> +“Your satisfaction will only be equaled by +ours,” laughed Amy Drew. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know whether you will get rid of me or +not, Belle,” said Nell Stanley composedly. “If +you mean to go to Hackle Island—” +</p> +<p> +“Father has engaged the handsomest suite at +the hotel there,” Belle broke in. “I fancy Doctor +Stanley will not feel like taking you all there, +Nellie. It is very expensive.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, if we go we sha’n’t be able to live at +the hotel,” confessed the clergyman’s daughter. +“But the children will get the benefit of the sea +air.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” murmured Amy. “Hackle Island is a +nice place.” +</p> +<p> +“But it ain’t as nice as mine!” Henrietta suddenly +broke in. “My island is the best. And I +wouldn’t let those girls on it—not on my part +of it.” +</p> +<p> +“What is that ridiculous child talking about?” +demanded Belle scornfully, while Bill Brewster +continued to crawl about under his car to discover +if possible what had happened to it. “What does +she mean?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +</p> +<p> +“I got an island, and everything,” announced +Henrietta. “I’m going to be just as rich as you +are, but I won’t be so mean.” +</p> +<p> +“Then you would better begin by not talking +meanly,” advised Jessie, admonishingly. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” sniffed Henrietta, “I haven’t got to let +’em on my island if I don’t want to, have I?” +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t fret,” laughed Sally Moon. “Your +island is like your witch’s curse. All in your mind.” +</p> +<p> +“Is that so?” flared out little Henrietta. “Your +old picnic was just spoiled by my bad weather, +wasn’t it? Well, then, wait till you try to get on +my island,” and she shook a threatening head, and +even her green parasol, in her earnestness. +</p> +<p> +Sally laughed again scornfully. But Belle +flounced out of the automobile. +</p> +<p> +“Come on!” she exclaimed. “Bill will never get +this car fixed.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, I will, Belle,” came Bill’s muffled voice +from under the car. “I always do.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, who wants to wait all day for you to +repair it, and then ride home with a fellow all +smeared up with oil and soot? Come on, Sally.” +</p> +<p> +Sally Moon meekly followed. That was how she +kept in Belle Ringold’s good graces. You had +to do everything Belle said, and do just as she did, +or you could not be friends with her. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” Monty Shannon drawled, “as far as I +think, you both can go. I won’t weep none. But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +Bill’s going to weep when he tells his father about +this busted carriage.” +</p> +<p> +“All Bill has to do is to deny it,” snapped Belle +Ringold. “Nobody would believe you against our +testimony.” +</p> +<p> +“Nobody but the judge,” laughed Amy. “Don’t +be such a goose, Belle. We will all testify for +Mr. Cabbage-head Tony.” +</p> +<p> +Bill crawled out from under his automobile as +the two girls who had been passengers walked +away. He was just as much smutted as Belle said +he would be. But he looked after her and her +friend without betraying any dissatisfaction. +</p> +<p> +“It’s all right,” he said to Monty. “I guess you +couldn’t help being in the way. This car does go +wrong once in a while. You can jump in the car +and I’ll take you home and tell the chap that owns +the pony how it happened. He can come to my +father and get paid.” +</p> +<p> +“Not much,” said the Dogtown boy. “I’ll have +to lead the pony. But you can take Hen back to +Dogtown.” +</p> +<p> +“Is it safe?” asked Jessie, for Henrietta had +started for the red car at once. She was crazy +about automobiles. +</p> +<p> +“If it goes bad again I can get out,” said the +child importantly. “I won’t wait for it to turn +topsy-turvy.” +</p> +<p> +“She will be all right,” said Bill Brewster +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +gloomily. “Father will make me pay for this carriage +out of my own money. I’m rather glad we +are going where I can’t use the machine for the +rest of the summer. It eats up all my pocket +money.” +</p> +<p> +“Where are your folks going, Billy?” asked +Jessie politely. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, we always go to Hackle Island.” +</p> +<p> +“Everybody is going to an island,” laughed +Amy. “I guess we’ll have to accept Hen’s invitation +and go to her island, Jess.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s a lot better island than that one those girls +are going to,” repeated Henrietta, with confidence, +climbing into the red car. +</p> +<p> +When the latter was gone, and Monty Shannon +was out of sight, leading the brown and white +pony, the three Roselawn girls discussed little +Henrietta’s story of her sudden wealth, and particularly +of her possession of Station Island, wherever +that was. +</p> +<p> +“Of course, we won’t understand the rights of +the matter till we see Bertha,” said Jessie. “She +must know all about it.” +</p> +<p> +“I wonder where Station Island is situated?” +Amy observed. “Let’s hunt an atlas—— Oh, no, +we won’t! Here is something better.” +</p> +<p> +“Something better than an atlas?” laughed +Nell. “A walking geography?” +</p> +<p> +“You said it,” rejoined Amy. “Papa knows all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +about such things. I can’t even remember how +New Melford is bounded; but you’d think he had +been all around the world, and walked every step +of the way.” +</p> +<p> +“And you never will know, Amy Drew, if you +ask somebody every time you want to know anything +and never stop to work the thing out yourself,” +admonished Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, piffle!” exclaimed the careless Amy. +“What’s the use?” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Drew was just coming out of his own +grounds across the boulevard, and his daughter +hailed him. +</p> +<p> +“Want to ask you an important question, papa,” +cried Amy, running to meet him and hanging to +his arm. +</p> +<p> +“Ahem! If you expect advice, I expect a retainer,” +said the lawyer soberly. +</p> +<p> +“Nothing like that! I know you lawyers. I am +going to wait to see if your advice is worth anything,” +declared his gay daughter. “Now, listen! +Did you ever hear of Station Island?” +</p> +<p> +“I have just heard of it,” responded the gentleman +promptly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Don’t be so dreadfully smart,” said +Amy. “I know I am telling you——” +</p> +<p> +“Wrong. I had just heard of it to-day—before +you mentioned it,” returned her father. “But I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +have known of it for a good many years, under +another name.” +</p> +<p> +“Then you do know where Station Island is, +Mr. Drew?” cried Jessie, eagerly. “We do so +want to know.” +</p> +<p> +“That is the new name they have given the place +since the big radio station was established there. +It is really Hackle Island, girls, and has been +known by that name since our great-grandparents’ +days.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span><a name='chIV' id='chIV'></a>CHAPTER IV—UNCERTAINTIES</h2> +<p> +“It is lucky Henrietta went away before +papa came,” observed Amy, after they +had discussed the strange matter at some +length. “She certainly would have been mad to +learn that Belle and Sally were likely to visit what +she calls her island, without any invitation from +her.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you suppose it all means?” asked +Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“She must have heard some mixed-up account +of an island that belonged to her family,” Nell +said, “and got it twisted. I can’t see it any other +way. But I must go home now, girls. The Reverend +and the children need looking after by this +time. Good-bye.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Drew did not explain until evening about +his previous knowledge of the island in question. +Then he came over to smoke his after-dinner cigar +on the Norwood’s porch, and he and Jessie’s +father discussed the matter within the hearing of +their two very much interested daughters. When +their fathers did not object, Jessie and Amy often +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +“listened in” on business conversations, and this +one was certainly important to the minds of the +two chums. +</p> +<p> +“Did Blair telephone you to-day again about +that matter?” Mr. Norwood asked his neighbor. +</p> +<p> +“No. It was Mr. Stratford himself. Takes an +interest in Blair’s affairs, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“It really concerns that Bertha Blair who was +of so much value to me in the Ellison will case. +You remember?” observed Mr. Norwood. +</p> +<p> +“And it concerns this little freckle-faced child +the girls have had around here so much. Actually, +if the thing pans out the way it looks, Norwood, +that child has got something coming to her.” +</p> +<p> +“She has a good deal coming to her if she can +prove she is the daughter of Padriac Haney,” said +Jessie’s father, with vigor. +</p> +<p> +“You are inclined to take the matter up?” +</p> +<p> +“I am. I’ll do all I can. Blair has no money +to risk——” +</p> +<p> +“He won’t need any,” said Mr. Drew, quite as +decisively. “If you can spend your time on it, +so can I. It won’t break us, Norwood, to help the +child.” +</p> +<p> +“Not at all,” agreed Mr. Norwood, generously. +</p> +<p> +“But is it really true, Daddy, that Hackle Island +belongs to little Henrietta and Bertha?” +asked Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“A good part of it, apparently. All of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span> +middle of the island,” he returned. “The Government +owns Sable Point where the old lighthouse +stands and where the radio station is now established. +That has been a government reservation +for years. At the other end is the Hackle Island +Hotel, always popular with a certain class of +moneyed people.” +</p> +<p> +“I have been there,” said Mr. Drew, nodding. +“But there is a bunch of bungalows in between——” +</p> +<p> +“By the way,” interposed Mr. Norwood, “my +wife said something about taking one of those for +a month or two. I have the tentative offer of +one.” +</p> +<p> +“O-oh!” gasped Amy, clasping her hands. +</p> +<p> +Her father laughed outright. “See,” he said +to the other lawyer. “You are going to have a +guest, if you go there. I can see that.” +</p> +<p> +“The bungalow is big enough for the girls and +their friends,” admitted Jessie’s father. +</p> +<p> +“That beats the farm!” cried Amy to Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“It will be nice. And we can take Henrietta +and Bertha along.” +</p> +<p> +“They are going in any case, I hear from Blair,” +said Mr. Norwood briskly. “His wife will take +them. There is an old farmhouse that belongs to +the Haney estate. You see, a part of the bungalow +colony and the Club golf course are included in +the old Haney place. The real estate men who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +exploited the island a few years ago did not trouble +themselves to get clear title to the land. They +made their bit and got out. Now there are two +parties laying claim to the middle of the island.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear!” cried Jessie. “Then it isn’t sure +that little Henrietta will get her island? Too +bad!” +</p> +<p> +“Personally I am pretty sure that she will,” said +Mr. Norwood, with conviction. “But it will cause +a court fight. There is another claimant, as I +say.” +</p> +<p> +“You are right,” agreed Mr. Drew. “And he +is a fighter. Ringold never gives up a thing until +he has to.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” breathed Amy. “Not Belle’s +father?” +</p> +<p> +“It is the New Melford Ringold,” said Mr. +Drew. “His claim is based upon an old note that +the original Padriac Haney gave some money-lender. +Ringold bought the paper along with a +lot of other fishy documents. You know, he has +always been a note shaver.” +</p> +<p> +“I know something about that,” said Mr. Norwood, +grimly. “Don’t worry too much about it. +Ringold may have a lot of money, but he won’t +spend too much to try to make good a bad claim. +He doesn’t throw a sprat to catch a herring; he +would only risk a sprat for whale bait,” and he +laughed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +</p> +<p> +However, the two girls had heard quite enough +to yield food for chatter for some time to come. +Jessie had kept close watch of the time by her +wrist-watch. She now beckoned her chum, and +they ran indoors and up the stairs to Jessie’s +sitting-room. +</p> +<p> +“It is almost time for the concert from Stratfordtown,” +Jessie said. “And Bertha telephoned +me yesterday that she hoped to sing to-night.” +</p> +<p> +“Lucky girl!” said Amy, sighing. “It’s nice to +have an uncle who bosses a broadcasting station. +But, never mind, Jess, we had fun the time we were +on the program. Say! the boys will be home to-morrow.” +</p> +<p> +“No! Do you mean it?” +</p> +<p> +“Papa got a wireless. The <em>Marigold</em> now has +a real radio telegraph sending and receiving set. +Darry says it is great. But, of course, you and I +can’t get anything from them because we do not +know Morse.” +</p> +<p> +“Let’s learn!” exclaimed Jessie, excitedly. +</p> +<p> +“Sometimes when you get your set tuned wrong +you hear some of the code. But the telegraph +wave-length is much, much longer than the phone +lengths. Guess you’d have a job listening in for +anything Darry and Burd Ailing would send from +that old yacht.” +</p> +<p> +“We can learn the Morse alphabet, just the +same, can’t we?” demanded her chum. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +</p> +<p> +“Now, there you go again!” complained Amy. +“Always suggesting something that is work. I +don’t want to have to learn a single thing until we +go back to school in the fall. Believe me!” +</p> +<p> +Her emphasis only made Jessie laugh. She adjusted +the crystal detector, or cat’s whisker, as the +girls called it, and then began to tune the coil until, +with the tabs at her ears, she could hear a voice +rising out of the void, nearer and nearer, until it +seemed speaking directly in her ear: +</p> +<p> +“With which announcement we begin our evening’s +entertainment from the Stratfordtown Station. +The first number on the program being——” +</p> +<p> +“Do you hear that? It is Mr. Blair himself,” +whispered Amy eagerly. “And he says——” +</p> +<p> +Jessie held up her hand for silence as the superintendent +of the broadcasting station at Stratfordtown +went on to announce, “Miss Bertha Blair, +who will sing ‘Will o’ the Wisp,’ Mr. Angler being +at the piano. I thank you.” +</p> +<p> +The piano prelude came to the ears of the Roselawn +girls almost instantly. Jessie and Amy +smiled at each other. They were proud to think +that they had something to do with Bertha’s becoming +a favorite on the Stratfordtown programs, +and likewise that their interest in the girl first +served to call the superintendent’s attention to +her. In “The Roselawn Girls on the Program” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span> +is told of Bertha’s first meeting with her uncle who +had never before seen her. +</p> +<p> +They listened to the hour’s program and then +tuned the receiver to get what was being broadcasted +from a city station—a talk on economics +that interested to a degree even the two high-school +girls. For frivolous as Amy usually appeared +to be, she was a good scholar and, like +Jessie, stood well in her classes. +</p> +<p> +There was not much but a desire for fun in +Amy’s mind the next morning, however, when she +ran across the boulevard to the Norwood place. +It was right after breakfast, and she wore her +middy blouse and short skirt, with canvas ties on +her feet. She trilled for Jessie under the radio-room +windows: +</p> +<p> +“You-oo! You-oo! ‘Mary Ann! My Mary +Ann! I’ll meet you on the corner!’ Come-on-out!” +</p> +<p> +Jessie appeared from the breakfast room, and +Momsy, as Jessie always called her mother, looked +out, too. +</p> +<p> +“What have you girls on your minds for this +morning?” she asked. +</p> +<p> +“Our new canoe, Mrs. Norwood. You know, +we gave the old one to those Dogtown youngsters, +and our new one has never been christened yet.” +</p> +<p> +“Shall I bring a hat?” asked Jessie, hesitatingly. +</p> +<p> +“What for? To bail out the canoe? Bill says +it is perfectly sound and safe,” laughed Amy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +</p> +<p> +“You are getting wee freckles on your nose, Jessie,” +said Mrs. Norwood. +</p> +<p> +“Why worry?” demanded Amy. “You can +never get as many as Hen wears—and her nose +isn’t as big as yours.” +</p> +<p> +“It is by good luck, not good management, that +you do not freckle, Amy Drew,” declared her +chum. “I’ll take the shade hat.” +</p> +<p> +“Why not a sunbonnet?” scoffed Amy. +</p> +<p> +But Jessie laughed and ran out with her hat. It +floated behind her, held by the two strings, as she +raced her chum down to the boat landing. The +Norwood boathouse sheltered several different +craft, among others a motor-boat that Amy’s +brother, Darrington Drew, owned. But Darry +and his chum, Burd Alling, had lost their interest +in the <em>Water Thrush</em> since they had been allowed +to put into commission, and navigate themselves, +the steam-yacht <em>Marigold</em>, which was a legacy to +Darry from an uncle now deceased. +</p> +<p> +The girls got the new canoe out without assistance +from the gardener or his helper. They were +thoroughly capable out-of-door girls. They had +erected the antenna for Jessie’s radio set without +any help. Both were good boatmen—“if a girl +can be a man,” to quote Amy—and they could +handle the <em>Water Thrush</em> as well as the canoe. +</p> +<p> +They launched and paddled out from the shore +in perfect form. The sun was scorching, but there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +was a tempering breeze. It was therefore cooler +out toward the middle of the lake than inshore. +The glare of the sun on the water troubled even +the thoughtless Amy. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, aren’t you the wise little owl, Jess Norwood!” +she cried. “To think of wearing a sun-hat! +And here am I with nothing to shelter me +from the torrid rays. I am going to burn and peel +and look horrid—I know I shall! I’ll not be fit +to go to Hackle Island—if we go.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, we’re going, all right!” +</p> +<p> +“You’re mighty certain, from the way you talk. +Has it been really settled? ‘There’s many a slip’ +and all that, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“Father asked Momsy about it at breakfast before +he went to town, and she said she had quite +made up her mind,” Jessie said. “He will make +the arrangements with the owner of the house.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, goody! A bungalow?” cried Amy. +</p> +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> +<p> +“How big, dear? Can the boys come?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course. There are fourteen rooms. It is +a big place. We will shut up the house here and +send down most of the serving people ahead. We +shall have at least one good month of salt air.” +</p> +<p> +“Hooray!” cried Amy, swinging her paddle +recklessly. “And I’ve got just the most scrumptious +idea, Jess. I’ll tell you——” +</p> +<p> +But something unexpected happened just then +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span> +that quite drove out of Amy Drew’s mind the idea +she had to impart to her chum. She brought the +paddle she had waved down with an awful smack +on the water. The spray spattered all about. +Jessie flung herself back to escape some of the inwash, +and by so doing her gaze struck upon something +on the surface of the lake, far ahead. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Oh!” she shrieked. “What is that, +Amy? Somebody is drowning!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span><a name='chV' id='chV'></a>CHAPTER V—INTO TROUBLE AND OUT</h2> +<p> +Amy Drew sat up in the canoe as high as +she could and stared ahead. Jessie’s observation +suggested trouble; but Amy +almost immediately burst out laughing. +</p> +<p> +“‘Drowning!’” she repeated. “Why, Jess +Norwood, you know that you couldn’t drown those +Dogtown kids. And if that isn’t some of them—Monty +Shannon, and the Costello twins, and the +rest of them—I’m much mistaken.” +</p> +<p> +“But see those barrels and tubs and what-all!” +gasped her more serious friend. “Look there! +It’s Henrietta!” +</p> +<p> +The fleet of strange barges that Jessie had first +spied included, it seemed, almost every sort of +craft that could be improvised. A rainwater barrel +led the procession of “boats,” and Montmorency +Shannon was in that, paddling with some +kind of paddle that he wielded with no little skill. +</p> +<p> +There were two wooden washtubs in which the +Costello twins voyaged. One was much lower in +the water than the other, giving evidence of having +shipped more water than its mate. In a water-trough +that had been filched from somebody’s +barnyard was little Henrietta and Charlie Foley. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +</p> +<p> +“They will be overboard!” exclaimed Jessie, +anxiously. “Drive ahead, Amy—do!” +</p> +<p> +The wind was blowing directly in their faces +and from the direction of the Dogtown landing, +where the flotilla had evidently embarked. The +tubs spun around and around, the half-barrel in +which Monty Shannon sat tried to perform the +same gyrations, but Henrietta and the Foley boy +blundered ahead. It was plain to Jessie’s mind +that the reckless children could not have sailed in +the other direction had they wished to do so. +</p> +<p> +“What do you come out here for?” she shrieked +when the canoe drew near. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Miss Jessie, we are going to the Carter +place,” sang out Henrietta. +</p> +<p> +“But the Carter place is down the lake, not up!” +exclaimed the exasperated Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Yes. But the wind shifted,” said Henrietta. +</p> +<p> +“Where is your big canoe?” demanded Amy, +who could scarcely paddle from laughter, in spite +of the evident danger the children were in. +</p> +<p> +“That is what we started after,” said Montmorency +Shannon, his red head sticking out of the +barrel like a full-blown hollyhock. “It got away in +the night, or somebody let it go, and we saw it +away down by the Carter place. So—so we +thought we’d go after it.” +</p> +<p> +“And I warrant your mothers don’t know what +you are doing,” Jessie said sternly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, they will!” cried Henrietta, virtuously. +</p> +<p> +“When they miss the washtubs,” put in Amy, +with laughter. +</p> +<p> +“When we tell ’em,” corrected little Henrietta. +“And we always tell ’em everything we do.” +</p> +<p> +“I see. After it is all over,” Jessie commented. +</p> +<p> +“We-ell,” said Henrietta, pouting, “we can’t tell +’em what we have done before we do it, can we? +For we never know ourselves.” +</p> +<p> +“You certainly cannot beat that for logic,” declared +Amy. She drove the head of the canoe to +the tub of the nearest Costello twin. “Get in here +carefully, Micky. You are going down.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s ’cause Aloysius always gets the best +tub. <em>He</em> ain’t sinking none,” said Michael Costello, +scowling at his twin. +</p> +<p> +“Quick!” commanded Amy, and the disgruntled +Costello swarmed over the side of the canoe. “We +can take in one more. Who is the nearest +drowned?” +</p> +<p> +“I’m sitting in half a foot of water,” confessed +the red-haired Shannon, grinning. +</p> +<p> +“A little soaking will do <em>you</em> good. I can guess +who suggested this crazy venture,” Jessie said. +“Come, Henrietta.” +</p> +<p> +“I need her to trim ship!” cried Charlie Foley. +</p> +<p> +“What do you want to trim your ship with—red, +white and blue?” demanded Amy. “If that +trough sinks I know you can swim, Charlie.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +</p> +<p> +The crowd would have had some difficulty in +getting back to shore with the wind blowing as +freshly as it did if the girls had not come along +and, in relays, helped them all back. +</p> +<p> +“What Mrs. Shannon will say when she sees her +two washtubs floating off like that, I don’t know,” +sighed Henrietta, after they were all ashore. +</p> +<p> +“One of ’em’s sunk, so she can’t see it,” Micky +Costello said calmly. “Maybe the other will go +down. Don’t you big girls say anything and maybe +she won’t find it out.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie and Amy had headed for Dogtown in the +first place without any expectation of playing a life-saving +part. Jessie thought they ought to see +Mrs. Foley, who was fleshy and easy of disposition, +and ask her about Henrietta’s visit. So they +accompanied the freckle-faced little girl to the +Foley house. +</p> +<p> +“I ain’t telling ’em all they can come to visit my +island, Miss Jessie,” said the little girl. “But of +course, the Foleys could come. Mrs. Blair and +Bertha wouldn’t mind just them, of course. +There’s only Mrs. Foley and Charlie and Billy +and the baby and three more boys and—and—well, +that’s all, only Mr. Foley. He wouldn’t +want to come.” +</p> +<p> +“You would better be sure of your island, and +just how much you own of it, Hen,” advised Amy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +Drew. “It may not be big enough to hold everybody +you want to invite.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Miss Amy, it’s a awful big island,” declared +little Henrietta. “It’s got a whole golf link +on it. I heard Mr. Blair say so.” +</p> +<p> +The “bulgy” Mrs. Foley welcomed the Roselawn +girls with her usual copiousness. Of course, +she had the youngest Foley in her lap, and the +housework was “at sixes and sevens,” since little +Henrietta had been at Stratfordtown for a week. +</p> +<p> +“How I’m going to git used, young ladies, to +havin’ that child away is more than I can say. +’Tis a great mistake I have all boys for childers. +There is nothing like a smart girl around the +house.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie, very curious, asked the woman what she +knew about Henrietta’s wonderful story of wealth. +</p> +<p> +“Sure, I’ve always expected it would come to +her some day,” declared Mrs. Foley. “Her +mother, who was a good neighbor of mine before +we moved out here to the lake, said Hen’s father +come of rich folks. They used to drive their own +carriage. That was before automobiles come in +so plenteous.” +</p> +<p> +“Did Bertha ever say anything about it, Mrs. +Foley?” +</p> +<p> +“Not much. ’Tis Hen will be the rich wan. +Oh, yes. And glad I am if the child is about to +come into her own. She’s no business to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +running down here every chance she gets. I had himself +telephone to Bertha when he went to town +this morning, and it is likely she will be here after +the child. Hen’s as wild as a hawk.” +</p> +<p> +Bertha Blair, in fact, appeared in a hired car +before Jessie and Amy were ready to return in +their canoe to Roselawn. She was quite as excited +as Henrietta had been about the strange fortune +that promised to come into their lives. Bertha +could tell the chums from Roselawn many +more particulars of the Padriac Haney property. +</p> +<p> +“If little Henrietta will only be good and not +be so wild and learn her lessons and mind what +she’s told,” Bertha said seriously, “maybe she will +have money and an island—or part of one, anyway. +But she does not behave very well. She is +as wild as a March hare.” +</p> +<p> +Little Henrietta looked serious for her; but +Mrs. Foley took her part at once. +</p> +<p> +“Sure don’t be expectin’ too much of the child +at wance, Bertha. She’s run as wild as the wind +itself here. She’s fought and played with these +Dogtown kids since she was able to toddle around. +What would ye expect?” +</p> +<p> +“But she must learn,” declared the older girl. +“Mrs. Blair won’t take us to the island this summer +if she is not good.” +</p> +<p> +“Then I’ll go myself,” announced Henrietta. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +“It’s my island, ain’t it? Who has a better right +there?” +</p> +<p> +Jessie took a hand at this point, shaking her +head gravely at the freckled little girl. +</p> +<p> +“Do you suppose, Henrietta Haney, that your +friends—like Mrs. Foley or Mrs. Blair, or even +Amy and I—will want to come to your island to +see you if you are not a good girl?” +</p> +<p> +“Say, if I get rich can’t I do like I want to—like +other rich folks?” +</p> +<p> +“You most certainly cannot. Rich people, if +they are to be loved, must be even more careful in +their conduct than poor folks.” +</p> +<p> +“We-ell,” confessed the freckled little girl +frankly, “I’d rather be rich than be loved. If I +can’t be both <em>easy</em>, I’ll be rich.” +</p> +<p> +“Such amazing worldliness!” sighed Amy, raising +her hands in mock horror. +</p> +<p> +But Jessie Norwood truly wished the little girl +to be nice. Poor little Henrietta, however, had +much to unlearn. She chattered continually about +the island she owned and the riches she was to +enjoy. The smaller children of Dogtown followed +her—and the green parasol—about as though +they were enchanted. +</p> +<p> +“’Tis a witch she certainly is,” declared Mrs. +Foley. “She’s bewitched them all, so she has. +But I’m lost widout her, meself. When a woman +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span> +has six—and them all boys—and a man that +drinks——” +</p> +<p> +This statement of her personal affairs had been +so often heard by the three girls that they all tried +to sidetrack Mrs. Foley’s complaint. It was Jessie, +however, who advanced a really good reason +for getting out of the Foley house. +</p> +<p> +“I promised Monty Shannon I would look at +his radio set,” she said, jumping up. “You will +excuse us for a little, Mrs. Foley? You are not +going back to Stratfordtown at once, Bertha?” +</p> +<p> +“Before long. I have only hired the car for the +forenoon. The man has another job this afternoon. +And I must find that Henrietta again,” for +the freckle-faced little girl was as lively, so Amy +said, as a water-bug—“one of those skimmery +things with long legs that dart along the surface +of the water.” +</p> +<p> +The trio went out and across the cinder-covered +yard to the Shannon house. The immediate surroundings +of Dogtown were squalid, although its +site upon the edge of Lake Mononset might have +been made very pleasant indeed. +</p> +<p> +“If these boys like Monty Shannon and some of +the girls stay at home when they grow up they +surely will improve the looks of the village,” Jessie +had said. “For Monty and his kind are altogether +too smart not to want to live as other people do.” +</p> +<p> +“You’ve said it,” agreed Amy, with enthusiasm. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +“He is smart. He has a better radio receiver than +you have. Wait till you see.” +</p> +<p> +“How do you know?” asked the surprised Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“He was telling me about it. You know how +often some ‘squeak box,’ or other amateur operator, +breaks in on our concerts.” +</p> +<p> +“We-ell, not so often now,” Jessie said. “I +have learned more about tuning and wave-lengths. +But, of course, I have only a single circuit crystal +receiving set. I have been talking to Dad about +getting a better one.” +</p> +<p> +“Monty will show you,” Amy said with confidence, +as they knocked at the Shannon door. +</p> +<p> +The little cottage was small. Downstairs there +were but two rooms. The door gave access to the +kitchen, and beyond was the “sitting-room,” of +which Monty’s mother was inordinately proud. +She was a widow, and helped herself and her children +by doing fine laundry work for the wealthy +people of New Melford. +</p> +<p> +From the front room when the girls entered +came sounds that they recognized—radio sounds +which held their instant attention, although they +were merely market reports at that hour in the +forenoon. +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t it wonderful?” Bertha Blair said, clasping +her hands. “I never can get over the wonder +of it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span> +</p> +<p> +“Same here,” Amy declared. “When Jess and +I listened to you singing the ‘Will o’ the Wisp’ last +night it seemed almost shivery that we should +recognize the very tones of your voice out of the +air.” +</p> +<p> +“Huh!” exclaimed Montmorency, grinning. +“I got so I know the announcers, too. When that +Mr. Blair speaks I know him. Of course, I know +Mr. Mark Stratford’s voice, for I’ve talked with +him. I wouldn’t have such a fine machine here, +only he advised me.” +</p> +<p> +“Tell me,” Jessie said, “what is the difference +between my receiving set and yours, Monty?” +</p> +<p> +“If you want to hear clearly and keep outside +radio out of your machine, use a regenerative radio +set with an audion detector. The whole business, +Miss Jessie, is in the detector, after all. A +regenerative set of this kind is selective enough—that’s +the expression Mr. Mark used—to enable +any one to tune out all but a few commercial stations. +And they don’t often butt in to annoy you. +For sure, you’ll kill all the amateur squeak-boxes +and other transmission stations of that class. +</p> +<p> +“Now, I’m going to tune in for Stratfordtown. +They are sending the Government weather reports +and mother wants to know should she water her +tomatoes or depend on a thunderstorm,” and he +grinned at Mrs. Shannon, who stood, an awkward +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +but smiling figure, in the doorway between the two +rooms. +</p> +<p> +“’Tis too wonderful a thing for me to understand, +at all, at all,” admitted the widow. “However +can they tell you out of that machine there +is a thunderstorm coming?” +</p> +<p> +“Listen!” exclaimed the boy eagerly. There +was a horn on the set and no need for earphones. +He had tuned the market reports out. From the +horn came a different voice. But the words the +visitors heard had nothing to do with the report +on the weather. “What’s the matter?” demanded +Monty Shannon. “Listen to this, will you?” +</p> +<p> +“... she will come home at once. This is +serious—a serious call for Bertha Blair.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you hear that?” almost shrieked Amy +Drew. “Why, it must mean you, Bertha!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span><a name='chVI' id='chVI'></a>CHAPTER VI—CHANGED PLANS</h2> +<p> +“How ridiculous!” Jessie cried. “That +surely cannot mean you, Bertha.” +</p> +<p> +“Hush!” begged Amy. “It’s uncanny.” +</p> +<p> +Again the slow voice enunciated: “Bertha Blair +will come home at once. This is serious—a serious +call for Bertha Blair.” +</p> +<p> +“Criminy!” shouted Monty Shannon. “I know +who that is. It’s Mr. Mark Stratford.” +</p> +<p> +“He is calling for you, Bertha,” said Jessie. +“Can it be possible?” +</p> +<p> +“Something has happened!” gasped Bertha, +starting for the door of the cottage. “Where is +that child?” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind Henrietta. We will take care of +her,” Jessie called after the worried girl, wishing +to relieve her anxiety. +</p> +<p> +Bertha ran out of the house, and the next moment +the Roselawn girls heard the car start. Bertha +was being whisked away to Stratfordtown. +The voice of Mark Stratford continued to repeat +the call several times. Then he read the weather +report, as expected. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +</p> +<p> +“I can tell you one thing,” Jessie said eagerly +to her chum and the Shannons. “Mark Stratford +does not usually give out the announcements from +that station. Now, does he, Monty?” +</p> +<p> +“No, ma’am, Miss Jessie. Only once in a +while.” +</p> +<p> +“Then something has happened at the Blair +house, or to Mr. Blair himself. That is why they +send out this call, hoping that somebody down +here would get it and tell Bertha.” +</p> +<p> +“Think! How funny it must feel to hear your +name called out of the air in that way,” Amy remarked. +</p> +<p> +“Why, we had that experience ourselves,” Jessie +said. “Don’t you remember? Mark thanked +us publicly for finding his watch.” +</p> +<p> +“But that was not just like this,” replied Amy. +“Anyway, there is something unsatisfactory about +radio—and always will be—until we can ‘talk +back’ as well as receive. See! If Monty had a +sending set as well as a receiving, he could have +answered Mark Stratford, and told him Bertha +had heard the call and was starting home without +any delay.” +</p> +<p> +“I am afraid something really serious has happened,” +Jessie said. “Let’s go back home and +call up Stratfordtown on the telephone.” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll take Hen along with us,” agreed Amy. +“You said we’d take care of her.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +</p> +<p> +This the Roselawn girls did. When they set +out from Dogtown in their canoe, Henrietta sat +amidships. She was delighted to visit the Norwoods. +She had stayed over night with Jessie +before. +</p> +<p> +They passed the flotilla of tubs and barrels that +the Dogtown children had set afloat. Mrs. Shannon +would never see her washtubs again. Meanwhile +the Costello twins and Charlie Foley had set +out to walk around the lake and recover the big +canoe from the place where it had drifted ashore +on the other side. +</p> +<p> +“They certainly are the worst young ones,” +commented Amy Drew. “Always in mischief of +some kind.” +</p> +<p> +“There ain’t much else to get into at Dogtown,” +said little Henrietta soberly. “We don’t have any +boy scouts or girl scouts or anything like that. +They have <em>them</em> at Stratfordtown. Mrs. Blair +told me about ’em. I guess I’ll join the girl scouts +and take ’em all out on my island.” +</p> +<p> +Little Henrietta was still intensely excited about +“her island.” What the Roselawn girls heard +over the telephone when they got home again was +not encouraging. It seemed at first that Henrietta +must be disappointed. +</p> +<p> +Jessie ran in to the telephone as soon as they +arrived. She did not know the number of Mr. +Blair’s private telephone—if he had one. But she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +knew how to get in touch with Mark Stratford +whether he was at his home or at the offices of the +Stratford Electric Company. She was able to +speak with the young man almost at once, and +questioned him excitedly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes. I know that Bertha has got home. I +took a chance to reach her at Dogtown when I +heard where she had gone,” Mark Stratford said. +“You know Monty Shannon is a protégé of mine, +and I have an idea he is listening in most of the +time at that set he has built.” +</p> +<p> +“But what is the matter? Has Mr. Blair been +hurt?” +</p> +<p> +“It is Mrs. Blair. She fell downstairs and has +hurt herself severely. Did it not ten minutes after +Bertha went out. Broke her leg. She will be in +bed for weeks. I understand that they were planning +to go away for the summer,” said Mark, sympathetically. +“But that cannot be now. At least, +I suppose Bertha will have to remain to take care +of her aunt.” +</p> +<p> +“Sh! Don’t tell little Hen,” begged Amy +Drew, when she heard this. “The child will be +heartbroken. Without Bertha and Mrs. Blair +Hennie can’t go to her island.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie made no audible reply to this. And she +certainly had no intention of telling Henrietta the +very worst. She discussed the situation with +Momsy, and before Daddy Norwood returned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +from town that afternoon mother and daughter +had just about perfected a very nice plan for little +Henrietta. +</p> +<p> +“Well, you are to go to Hackle Island, Momsy,” +Mr. Norwood said, when he first came in. +“I have signed the agreement. You can send the +people down to make the house ready to-morrow, +if you like. I understand there will not be much +to do about the place. We can all go by the end +of the week.” +</p> +<p> +“You take my breath away—as usual,” laughed +Jessie’s mother. “You are always so prompt, +Robert.” +</p> +<p> +“And you will have a house full of company, I +suppose?” he rejoined, but looking at Jessie with +a smile. +</p> +<p> +“We are going to have one guest you didn’t expect, +Daddy,” rejoined his daughter. She told +him swiftly of what had happened at the Blair +home in Stratfordtown. “So that spoils it all for +little Henrietta, you see, Daddy, if we don’t take +her. And you know she is crazy to see what she +calls her island.” +</p> +<p> +“Sure that she won’t make you and Momsy +crazy, Jess?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “That +child is as lively as an eel and as noisy as a steam-roller.” +</p> +<p> +“How can you say such things, Daddy?” cried +Jessie, shaking a reproving head. “We have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +agreed to take her if you and the Blairs are willing. +And Momsy and I will try to teach her the things +she’ll need to know.” +</p> +<p> +“M-mm. Well, perhaps you will have success. +You have done pretty well with me,” laughed Mr. +Norwood, who made believe that his wife and +daughter had “brought him up by hand.” “Being +guided in any way will be a novel experience for +little Hen, that is sure.” +</p> +<p> +He agreed so well with his wife’s and Jessie’s +plans, however, that he called Mr. Blair up that +evening and proposed to keep little Henrietta and +take her to Hackle, or Station, Island, while Mrs. +Blair was confined to her house. As Jessie’s father, +along with Mr. Drew, had taken legal charge of +Henrietta’s affairs for the time being, it was right +that the orphan child should be in Mrs. Norwood’s +care. +</p> +<p> +“There is an almost certain chance the child is +going to be very wealthy,” Mr. Norwood said +seriously, to Jessie’s mother. “Her education and +improvement cannot begin too soon. She is as +wild as a hawk and she needs encouragement and +government both.” +</p> +<p> +Henrietta took quite as a matter of course every +change that came to her. She had no particular +affection for Mrs. Blair, for she had not known +her long enough. She was delighted to go to “her +island” with Jessie and her parents. As long as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +she got there and could survey her domain, little +Henrietta was bound to be satisfied. But Jessie +knew she would have to restrain the child in her +desire to invite everybody she knew and liked to +come to the island while she was there. +</p> +<p> +The Norwood family had not even discussed +how they were to travel to the island—by what +route—when Amy Drew bounded in. Jessie and +Henrietta were upstairs in Jessie’s room listening +to the bedtime story. A little girl not much older +than Henrietta was telling the story, and Henrietta +thought that was quite wonderful. +</p> +<p> +“I know that Bertha and you other big girls +sing into the radio,” the freckle-faced child said, +when it was over. “Do you suppose Mr. Blair +would let me recite into it like that?” +</p> +<p> +“What would you say?” asked Amy, laughing +as her chum and the smaller girl removed their +earphones. +</p> +<p> +“Why—why,” said Henrietta eagerly, “I would +tell stories, too. Spotted Snake, the Witch, used +to tell stories to Billy Foley and the other Dogtown +kids to keep them quiet. And they liked +’em.” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll see about that when we come back from +your island, Henrietta,” said Jessie, smiling. +</p> +<p> +“And listen!” exclaimed Amy. “You remember +I said I had a great idea about our going to +Hackle Island. I didn’t finish telling you, Jess.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +</p> +<p> +“That is right,” her chum rejoined. “And no +wonder, when we spied that crew of crazy ones +venturing to sea in tubs!” and Jessie laughed. +</p> +<p> +“Listen here,” Amy said more seriously. “The +boys have come home. I told you they were due. +The <em>Marigold</em> is all right now. Her engines and +everything are working fine. So, why don’t we +take this opportunity to see what she is like. +Darry has promised us long enough.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but we are going to Hackle Island!” cried +Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Station Island,” put in Henrietta. “My +island.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course. That is what I mean,” Amy hastened +to say. “Instead of taking the train and then +the regular boat, why not get the boys to take us +all the way from the yacht club moorings to Station +Island, or whatever it is called?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Amy, that would be fine!” cried Jessie. +“Will Darry do it?” +</p> +<p> +“He will or I shall disown him as a brother,” +declared her chum, with vigor. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s run and see what Momsy says!” exclaimed +the eager Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“We’d better go and <em>hear</em> what she says,” +laughed the irrepressible Amy. “Come on, Hen! You +want to be in it. Wouldn’t you like a boat ride +to your island?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, how do you suppose I was going to get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span> +there?” demanded the little maid. “Automobiles +don’t run to islands—nor yet steam trains. But +I hope the boat won’t leak as bad as that trough +me and Charlie Foley sailed in this morning,” she +added thoughtfully. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span><a name='chVII' id='chVII'></a>CHAPTER VII—FORECASTS</h2> +<p> +The plan Amy had originated for going to +Station Island on her brother’s yacht was +approved by Jessie’s mother and father, +and in the end the Drew family agreed to make +the voyage, too. Mrs. Norwood sent down her +housekeeper and a staff of servants in advance so +that everything would be in readiness for the +yachting party. +</p> +<p> +A few articles of clothing had been bought for +Henrietta when she had gone to the Blairs. But, +besides being few, they were hardly suitable for +an outing on Station Island. So Jessie and Amy +were allowed to use their own taste in selecting +the child’s outfit for the island adventure. And +how they did revel in this novel undertaking! +</p> +<p> +Being down town on these errands so much during +the following two days, the Roselawn girls +were bound to fall in with Belle Ringold and +Sally Moon, as well as with other members of +their class in the high school. Jessie, at least, +would never have noticed Belle and her chum +could she have avoided it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +</p> +<p> +Amy had an overpowering fondness for a concoction +called a George Washington sundae which +was to be found only at the New Melford Dainties +Shop. So, of course, each shopping “spree” must +end with a visit to the confectionary shop in question. +</p> +<p> +“Come on,” Amy said, on the second day. “I +told Darry and Burd we’d wait for them, and we +might as well ride home as walk. They have our +second car. Cyprian is driving mamma to a round +of afternoon teas and other junkets. But the +boys won’t forget us. Come on.” +</p> +<p> +“‘Come on’ means only one place to come to,” +laughed Jessie. “I know you. What shall we do +on that island, Amy, without any George Washington +sundaes?” +</p> +<p> +“Say not so!” begged the other girl. “There +is a fancy hotel there, they say, and perhaps it has +a soda fountain.” +</p> +<p> +“Hi! Amy Drew!” called a voice behind +them, as they descended the two steps into the +Dainties Shop. +</p> +<p> +“Well, would you ever?” demanded Amy, looking +around with no eagerness. “If it isn’t Sally +Moon and, of course, Belle.” +</p> +<p> +“Hi, Amy!” repeated Sally. “Let me ask you +something.” +</p> +<p> +“Go ahead,” returned Amy, but in no encouraging +tone. “It’s free to ask.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span> +</p> +<p> +Sally, however, was not easily discouraged. +Evidently Belle had put her up to ask whatever +the question was, and to keep friendly with Belle +Ringold Sally had to perform a good many unpleasant +tasks. +</p> +<p> +“Your brother and Burd Alling have got back +with that yacht, haven’t they?” she demanded. +</p> +<p> +“You are correctly informed,” answered Amy +lightly. +</p> +<p> +“We want to see them. I suppose the boat is +all right? That is, it is safe, isn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +“So far it hasn’t sunk with them,” returned +Amy scornfully. +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t be so snippy, Amy Drew,” broke +in Belle. “We want to see your brother about +the use of the <em>Marigold</em>. I suppose he will let +it to a party—for a price?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know,” said Amy, staring. +</p> +<p> +“Why, that’s absurd!” Jessie declared, without +thinking. “It is a pleasure boat, not a cargo +boat.” +</p> +<p> +Amy began to laugh when she saw Belle’s face. +</p> +<p> +“They don’t even take passengers for hire,” +she said. “Is that what you want to know?” +</p> +<p> +“We want to hire a yacht to take us to Station +Island,” Sally hastened to say. “And Belle remembered +Darrington’s boat——” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t suppose it is fit to take such a party +as ours will be,” interposed Belle. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +</p> +<p> +“I guess Darry won’t want to let it,” said Amy, +seeing that the two girls were in earnest. “Besides, +we are going down ourselves this week.” +</p> +<p> +“Who are going where?” demanded Belle, +sharply. +</p> +<p> +“It’s the Norwoods’ party, you know,” Amy +said, for Jessie had “shut up as tight as a clam.” +“Mrs. Norwood has taken a bungalow there.” +</p> +<p> +“On Station Island—Hackle Island it used to +be called?” Sally cried. +</p> +<p> +“That is the place. And Darry will take us +all on the <em>Marigold</em>. So, I guess——” +</p> +<p> +“We might have known it!” exclaimed Belle, +angrily. “The Norwoods or some of that Roselawn +crowd would tag along if we planned something +exclusive.” +</p> +<p> +But Amy only laughed at this. “You don’t own +that island, do you? Remember what little Hen +Haney said about owning an island? Well, +Hackle, or Station Island, is the one she meant. +She owns a big slice of it.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t believe it!” cried Belle. +</p> +<p> +“She does. My father says so. And he and +Mr. Norwood are going to get it for her.” +</p> +<p> +“They will have a fine time doing that,” sneered +Belle. “Why, <em>my</em> father has a claim upon all the +middle of the island, and he is going to make his +claim good. That nasty little freckle-faced young +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +one from Dogtown will never get a foot of Hackle +Island—you’ll see!” +</p> +<p> +Amy shrugged her shoulders as she and Jessie +took seats at a table. She knew how to aggravate +Belle Ringold, and she sometimes rather impishly +enjoyed bothering the proud girl. +</p> +<p> +“And there’s one thing,” went on Belle, with +emphasis, so exasperated that she did not see +Nick, the clerk, who was waiting for her order, +“I wouldn’t go away for the summer unless we +went to a really fashionable hotel. No, indeed! +Cottagers at seaside places are always of such a +common sort!” +</p> +<p> +Amy only laughed. Jessie remained silent. It +really did trouble her to have these controversies +with Belle. It was not nice and she did not feel +right after they were over. +</p> +<p> +“There is something wrong with us, as well as +with Belle,” Jessie said once to Amy, on this topic. +</p> +<p> +“I’d like to know what’s wrong with us?” her +chum demanded. “I like that!” +</p> +<p> +“When we squabble with Belle and Sally we +make ourselves just as common as they are.” +</p> +<p> +“Tut, tut! Likewise ‘go to,’ whatever that +means,” laughed Amy Drew. “Why, child, if we +did not keep up our end of any controversy that +those girls start they would walk all over us.” +</p> +<p> +However, on this occasion, and at Jessie’s earnest +desire, Amy hastened the eating of her George +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span> +Washington sundae and the two friends got out +of the shop before Darry and Burd Alling appeared +in the car. +</p> +<p> +“What’s the matter?” asked Amy’s brother, +when the car stopped before the Dainties Shop +and he saw his sister and Jessie waiting. “Spent +all your money and waiting for us to take you in +and treat you?” +</p> +<p> +“We had ours,” Jessie replied promptly, getting +into the tonneau. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, indeed. ‘Home, James!’” Amy added, +following her chum. +</p> +<p> +“And so we are to be deprived of our needed +nourishment because you piggy-wiggies have had +enough?” demanded Burd Alling, with serious objection. +“I—guess—not! Come along, Darry,” +and he hopped out of the car. +</p> +<p> +“You’d better look ahead before you leap,” +giggled Amy. +</p> +<p> +“What’s that?” asked Darry, hesitating and +looking at his sister curiously. +</p> +<p> +“What’s up her sleeve?” demanded Burd, with +suspicion. +</p> +<p> +“You can treat Belle and Sally instead of Jessie +and me, if you go in,” said Amy. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my aunt!” exclaimed Burd, and sprang +into the automobile again. “Drive on, Darrington! +If you love me take me away before those +girls get their hooks in me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +</p> +<p> +“Don’t mind about you,” growled Darrington, +starting the car. “I will look out for myself, if +you please. I hope I never meet up with those +two girls again.” +</p> +<p> +At that his sister went off into uncontrollable +laughter. +</p> +<p> +“To think!” she cried. “And Belle and Sally +are going to be all summer on Station Island!” +</p> +<p> +“That settles it,” announced Darry. “Burd +and I will spend our time aboard the <em>Marigold</em>. +How about it, Burd?” +</p> +<p> +“Surest thing you know. At least we can +escape those two on the yacht.” +</p> +<p> +And this amused Amy immensely, too. For +was not Belle desirous of chartering the <em>Marigold</em>? +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span><a name='chVIII' id='chVIII'></a>CHAPTER VIII—ABOARD THE “MARIGOLD”</h2> +<p> +Before she was ready to go to Station +Island Jessie Norwood had a few purchases +to make that had nothing to do with +little Henrietta Haney. She had decided to disconnect +her radio set and send the instrument +down with the rest of the baggage. In addition, +she was determined to take Monty Shannon’s advice +and buy the additional parts which made the +Dogtown boy’s set so much more successful than +her own. +</p> +<p> +“We’ll buy wire for the antenna, of course,” +Jessie said to Amy. “Let our old aerial stand +till we return. All we shall have to do will be to +hook it up again when we set up the set in my +room.” +</p> +<p> +So they bought the wire, the lightning switch, +and the other small parts in New Melford and +sent them all on the truck with the trunks to the +dock where the <em>Marigold</em> waited. The next day +the two families, the Norwoods and the Drews, +as well as Burd Alling and little Henrietta, were +whisked to the yacht club dock in several automobiles. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +</p> +<p> +The girls had heard from Bertha over the telephone. +And considering the state of mind and +body that Mrs. Blair was in, the poor woman +was probably very well content that Henrietta +should be in Mrs. Norwood’s care for a while. +</p> +<p> +The freckle-faced little girl was wild with excitement +when she got aboard Darry’s yacht. She +had never been on such a craft before. +</p> +<p> +“I declare,” said Amy, “we’ll have to put a ball +and chain on this kid, or she will be overboard.” +</p> +<p> +Henrietta stared at her. “Is that one of those +locket and chain things you wear around your +neck? I’m going to buy me one when I get my +island. I never did own any joolry.” +</p> +<p> +This set Amy off into a breeze of laughter, but +Jessie realized that Henrietta was perfectly fearless +and would need watching while they were on +the yacht. +</p> +<p> +The <em>Marigold</em> was by no means a new vessel, +but it was roomy and seaworthy. That it was a +coal-burner rather than a modern oil-burner, or +with gasoline engines, did not at all decrease its +value in the eyes of its young owner. Darry Drew +was inordinately proud of the yacht. +</p> +<p> +He ran it with a small crew, and he and Burd, +or whoever of his boy friends he had aboard, did +a share of the work. +</p> +<p> +“I declare!” sniffed Amy, “I suppose you will +expect Jess and me to go down and stoke the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +furnaces for you if you get short handed. Why +not? You expect Mrs. Norwood and mamma to +do the cooking.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that’s only for this voyage. When we +have only fellows aboard we all take turns cooking +and get along all right.” +</p> +<p> +“Does Burd cook?” demanded Amy, in mock +horror. +</p> +<p> +“Well, he is pretty bad,” admitted Darry, with +a grin. “But we let him cook only on days when +the sea is rough.” +</p> +<p> +“And why?” demanded his sister, with wide-open +eyes. +</p> +<p> +“We never feel much like eating on rough +days,” explained Darry. “You see, the <em>Marigold</em> +kicks up quite a shindy when the sea is choppy.” +</p> +<p> +“Let us hope it will be calm all the way to +Station Island,” Jessie cried. +</p> +<p> +She had her wish. At least, the wind was fair, +the sea “kicked up no combobberation,” to quote +her chum, and every one enjoyed the sail. If the +<em>Marigold</em> was not a racing boat, her speed was +sufficient. They had no desire to get to the island +until the following day. +</p> +<p> +Darry’s sailing master was a seasoned old +mariner named Pandrick. They called him Skipper. +At noon the yacht crossed one of the many +“banks” to which New York fishing boats sail and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span> +the skipper pronounced the time opportune for +fishing. +</p> +<p> +“There’s blackfish and flounders on the bottom +and yellow-fin and maybe bass higher up. You +won’t find a better chance, Mr. Darry,” observed +the sailing master. +</p> +<p> +Every one grew excited over this prospect, and +the boys got out the tackle and bait. Even Henrietta +must fish. Jessie had been about to suggest +a cushioned seat in the cabin for the little girl, +with a pillow and a rug, for she had seen Henrietta +nodding after lunch. The child would not +hear of anything like that. +</p> +<p> +The anchor was dropped quietly and the <em>Marigold</em> +swung at that mooring while the fishermen +took their stations. Darry gave his personal attention +to Henrietta’s bait and showed her how +to cast her line. The little girl had been fishing +many times, if only for fresh water fish, and she +was not awkward. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you bother ‘bout me, Miss Jessie,” she +said to her mentor impatiently. “I bet I get a +fish before you do. I ain’t so slow.” +</p> +<p> +Amy had fixed a station for her chum beside her +own in the shade of the awning. Mr. Norwood +and Mr. Drew had brought their rods. Everybody +was soon engaged in an occupation which +really calls for the undivided attention of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +fisherman. The boys ordered all of them to keep +quiet. +</p> +<p> +“You know,” observed Burd sternly, “although +these fish out here may be dumb, they are not deaf. +You chatterboxes keep quiet.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie was greatly excited. She had a nibble +on her hook, then a positive strike. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! O-oh” she squealed under her breath. +“There’s—there’s something!” +</p> +<p> +“Is it a wolf or a bear?” demanded Amy, +giggling. +</p> +<p> +“Can you get it aboard, Jess?” asked Darry, +from the other side of the deck. +</p> +<p> +Jessie was not awkward. She had pulled in a +good-sized fish before. This one splashed about +a great deal and, when she raised it to the surface, +it looked so much like a big rubber boot +that Jessie squealed and almost dropped it. +</p> +<p> +“Hey! What did I say about that stuff?” +called out Burd. “You’ll give all the fish nervous +prostration. My goodness! What is that?” +</p> +<p> +He hurried to give Jessie a hand in hauling up +the heavy, slowly flapping fish. It was half as +broad as a dining table, with one side grayish-white +and the other slate color. The skipper gave +it a glance and laughed. +</p> +<p> +“Virgin,” he said. “We don’t eat that kind o’ +fish.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear! isn’t it a flounder?” wailed Jessie, +disconsolately. +</p> +<p> +“No, no. ’Tain’t worth anything,” said the +skipper, unhooking the heavy and ugly-looking +fish. +</p> +<p> +They joked Jessie about the worthless flat-fish, +but she laughed, too. Baiting again, she threw +in, and just at that moment there was a heavy +splash from the other side of the yacht. +</p> +<p> +“Somebody else has got a strike,” cried Amy. +“Who is it?” +</p> +<p> +Nobody answered. There seemed to be nobody +excited over a bite. The two lawyers were forward. +Darry and Burd were aft. Jessie suddenly +dropped her line and shot across the deck +to the other rail. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Amy!” she shrieked. “Where is little +Hen?” +</p> +<p> +“You don’t mean she’s gone overboard?” +gasped her chum, excitedly, and she came running +in the wake of Jessie. +</p> +<p> +Henrietta’s fish line was attached to a cleat on +the yacht’s rail. She had been standing on a coil +of rope so as to be high enough to look over into +the sea. The fear that clamped itself upon Jessie +Norwood’s mind was that the little girl had dived +headlong over the rail. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Henrietta!” she cried. “She—she’s gone! +She’s gone overboard, Amy.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +</p> +<p> +Her chum was quite as fearful as Jessie was, +but she tried to soothe her chum. +</p> +<p> +“It can’t be, Jess! She—she wouldn’t do that! +She just wouldn’t!” +</p> +<p> +“But you heard that big splash, didn’t you?” +cried the frightened Jessie. Then she began to +shout as loud as she could: “Help! Help! Henrietta’s +overboard! She’s gone overboard, I am +sure!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span><a name='chIX' id='chIX'></a>CHAPTER IX—GOSSIP OUT OF THE ETHER</h2> +<p> +Jessie’s cry startled everybody on deck and +Darry and Burd came running from the +stern. +</p> +<p> +“Where is she? Do you see her? Throw out +a buoy!” exclaimed the young owner of the yacht. +“Hey, Skipper Pandrick! Lower the boat.” +</p> +<p> +“Man overboard!” shouted Burd Alling. +</p> +<p> +“Get out!” exclaimed Darry. “It’s not a man +at all. It’s little Hen. Is that right, Jessie? Did +you see her fall?” +</p> +<p> +“No-o,” replied Jessie. “But she’s not here. +Where else could she have gone?” +</p> +<p> +Burd stared up and all about. Amy said +promptly: +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t look into the air, Burd. Hen +certainly didn’t fly away.” +</p> +<p> +The skipper arrived, but he was not excited. +“Who did you say had gone overboard, Mr. +Darry?” he asked. +</p> +<p> +“What does it matter? Can’t we save her +without so much red tape?” snapped Darry. +“Come on, Skipper! Get out the boat.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean the little girl who stood right +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +here?” asked the man. “Well, now, I saw how +she was playing her line. She didn’t have it +fastened to a cleat. And she sure didn’t just now +fasten it when she went overboard. No, I guess +not.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Maybe he is right,” cried Jessie, with +much relief. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I declare!” grumbled Darry. “It takes +you girls to stir up excitement.” +</p> +<p> +“But where is little Hen?” Amy asked, whirling +around to face her brother. +</p> +<p> +They all stared at one another. The skipper +wagged his head. +</p> +<p> +“You’d better look around, alow and aloft, and +see if she ain’t to be found. If she did go down, +she ain’t come up again, that’s sure.” +</p> +<p> +“But that splash!” cried Jessie, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“Wasn’t any splash except when I threw that +big flatfish overboard,” said the skipper. “And +the little girl didn’t scream. I guess she’s inboard +rather than overboard—yes, ma’am!” +</p> +<p> +The four young people separated and scoured +the yacht, both on deck and below. At least, the +girls looked through the cabin and the staterooms +and the boys went into the tiny forecastle. They +met again in five minutes or so and stared wonderingly +at each other. Little Henrietta had as utterly +disappeared as though she had melted into +thin air. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +</p> +<p> +“What can have happened to the poor little +thing?” cried Amy, now almost in tears. +</p> +<p> +“Of course, she must be on the boat if she +hasn’t fallen overboard,” Jessie replied hesitatingly. +</p> +<p> +“That is wisdom,” remarked Burd Alling, +dryly. “She hasn’t flown away, that’s sure.” +</p> +<p> +The two mothers were on the afterdeck in comfortable +chairs; Jessie hated to disturb them, for +Mrs. Norwood and Mrs. Drew had not heard +the first outcry regarding Henrietta. Mr. Norwood +and Mr. Drew were busy with their fishing-lines. +Neither of the four adult passengers had +seen the child. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll be hanged, but that is the greatest kid I +ever saw!” exclaimed Darry Drew with vigor. +“She’s always in some mischief or other.” +</p> +<p> +“I am so afraid she is in trouble,” confessed +Jessie. “You know, we are responsible to her +cousin Bertha Blair for her safety.” +</p> +<p> +“If the kid wants to dive overboard, are we to +be held responsible?” demanded Burd, somewhat +crossly. +</p> +<p> +“You hard-hearted boy!” exclaimed Amy. “Of +course it is your fault if anything happens to +Hennie.” +</p> +<p> +“I told you, Drew, that you were making a big +mistake to let this crowd of girls aboard the +<em>Marigold</em>,” complained the stocky youth, sighing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span> +deeply. “While this was strictly a bachelor +barque we were all right.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie, however, was really too much worried +to enter into any repartee of this character. She +ran off again to the cabin to have a second look +for Henrietta. She found no trace of her except +the doll she had brought aboard and the green +parasol. +</p> +<p> +She went back on deck. The fishermen were +beginning to haul in weakfish and an occasional +tautog, or blackfish. Amy, with a shout, hauled +in Henrietta’s line and got inboard a fine flounder. +</p> +<p> +“Anyway, we’ll have a big fish-fry for supper. +The men will clean the fish and Darry and Burd +will fry them. Your mother and mine, Jess, say +that they have got through with the galley for +the day.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” ejaculated Jessie and, whirling suddenly +around, started for the galley slide. +</p> +<p> +“Where are you going?” cried Amy. “Do help +me with this flopping fish. I can’t get the hook +out.” +</p> +<p> +Her chum did not halt. She knew that nobody +had thought to look into the cook’s galley that +had been shut up after lunch. She forced back the +slide and peered in. +</p> +<p> +There on the deck of the little compartment, +with her back against the wall, or bulkhead, was +Henrietta. On one side was a jar of strawberry +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +jam only half full. Much of the sticky sweet +was smeared upon the cracker clutched in the +child’s hand and upon her face and the front of +her frock. Henrietta was asleep! +</p> +<p> +“What is it?” demanded Amy, who had followed +her more excited chum. “What’s happened +to her?” +</p> +<p> +“Look at that!” exclaimed Jessie, dramatically. +</p> +<p> +Darry and Burd drew near. Amy burst into +stifled laughter. +</p> +<p> +“What do you know about that kid? She +asked me if she could have a bite between meals +and I told her of course she could. But I never +thought she would take me so at my word.” Amy’s +laughter was no longer stifled. +</p> +<p> +“Fishing in the jam jar is more to Hen’s taste +than fishing in the ocean,” observed Darry. +</p> +<p> +“Nervy kid!” exclaimed Burd. “I’d like some +of that jam myself.” +</p> +<p> +“Bring him away,” commanded Jessie, pushing +to the slide. “She might as well sleep. We will +know where she is, anyway.” +</p> +<p> +This little scare rather broke up the fishing for +the Roselawn girls and the college boys. They +went to the wireless room which had been built +on deck behind the wheelhouse, and Darry put +on the head harness and opened the key by which +he took the messages he was able to obtain out +of the air. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span> +</p> +<p> +The girls were particularly interested in this +form of radio telegraphy at this time. Darry had +bought and was establishing a regular radio telephone +receiving set, too. He could give Jessie +and Amy a deal of information about the Morse +alphabet as used in the commercial wireless +service. +</p> +<p> +“Practice makes perfect,” he told them. “You +can buy an ordinary key and sounder and practice +until you can send fast. While you are learning +that you automatically learn to read Morse. But +I’ll have the radio set all right shortly and then +we can get the station concerts.” +</p> +<p> +“How near we’ll be to that station on the +island!” Amy cried. “It ought to sound as though +it were right in our ears.” +</p> +<p> +“Not through your radiophone,” said her +brother. “That station is a great brute of a commercial +and signal station. It sends clear to the +European shore. No concerts broadcasted from +there. Now, let’s see if we can get some gossip +out of the air.” +</p> +<p> +The girls took turns listening in, even though +they could not understand more than a letter or +two of Morse. Darry translated for their benefit +certain general messages he caught. They learned +that operators on the trans-Atlantic liners and on +the cargo boats often talked back and forth, +swapping yarns, news, and personal information. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +Occasionally a navy operator “crashed in” with a +few words. +</p> +<p> +Calls came for vessels all up and down the +North Atlantic. Information as to weather indications +were broadcasted from Arlington. The +air seemed full of voices, each to be caught at a +certain wave-length. +</p> +<p> +“It is wonderful!” Jessie exclaimed. “‘Gossip +out of the air’ is the right name for it. Just think +of it, Amy! When we were born there was very +little known about all this wonderful wireless.” +</p> +<p> +“Sh!” commanded her chum. “Don’t remind +folks how frightfully young we are.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span><a name='chX' id='chX'></a>CHAPTER X—ISLAND ADVENTURES</h2> +<p> +The <em>Marigold</em> loafed along within sight +of the beaches that evening and the girls +and their friends reclined in the deck-chairs +and watched the parti-colored electric +lights that wreathed the shore-front. Jessie was +careful to keep Henrietta near by. She began to +realize that looking after the freckle-faced little +girl was going to be something of a trial. +</p> +<p> +Henrietta finally grew sleepy and Jessie and +Amy took her below, helped her undress, and +tucked her into a berth. The Roselawn girls’ +mothers were much amused by this. Their daughters +had taken a task upon themselves that would, +as Mrs. Norwood said, teach them something. +</p> +<p> +“And it will not hurt them,” Mrs. Drew agreed, +with an answering smile. “Amy, especially, needs +to know what ‘duty’ means.” +</p> +<p> +“Anyway, we’ll know where she is while she is +asleep,” Jessie said to her chum, as they left the +little girl. +</p> +<p> +“If she isn’t a somnambulist,” chuckled Amy. +“We forgot to ask Mrs. Foley or Bertha that.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +</p> +<p> +The ground swell lulled the girls to sleep that +night, and even Henrietta did not awake until +the first breakfast call in the morning. Through +the port-light Jessie and Amy saw Burd Alling +“bursting his cheeks with sound” as he essayed the +changes on the key-bugle. +</p> +<p> +The <em>Marigold</em> was slipping along the coast +easily, with the northern end of Station Island +already in sight. The castle-like hotel sprawled +all over the headland, but the widest bathing +beach was just below it. Next were the premises +of the Hackle Island Gold Club, with its pastures, +shrubberies, and several water-holes. It was to a +part of these enclosed premises that Mr. Norwood +said little Henrietta Haney was laying +claim. +</p> +<p> +“And I believe she will get it in time. Most +of the land on which those summer houses beyond +the golf course stand is also within the lines of the +Padriac Haney place.” +</p> +<p> +He explained this to them while they all paced +the deck after breakfast. The yacht was headed +in toward the dock near the bungalows, some of +which were very cheaply built and stood upon +stilts near the shore. +</p> +<p> +The tall gray staff of the abandoned lighthouse +was the landmark at the extreme southern end +of the island. The sending and receiving station +of the commercial wireless company was at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +lighthouse, and the party aboard the <em>Marigold</em> +could see the very tall antenna connected therewith. +</p> +<p> +The yacht landed the party and their baggage +about ten o’clock. Mrs. Norwood’s servants +were at hand to help, and a decrepit express +wagon belonging to a “native” aided in the transportation +of the goods to the big bungalow which +was some rods back from the shore. There were +no automobiles on the island. +</p> +<p> +“Is this my house?” Henrietta demanded the +moment she learned which dwelling the party of +vacationists would occupy. +</p> +<p> +“It may prove to be your house in the end,” +Jessie told her. +</p> +<p> +“When’s the end?” was the blunt query. “How +long do I have to wait?” +</p> +<p> +“We can’t tell that. My mother has the house +for the summer. She has hired it for us all to +live in.” +</p> +<p> +“Who does she pay? Do I get any of the +money?” continued the little girl. “If this island +is going to be mine some time, why not now? Why +wait for something that is mine?” +</p> +<p> +It was very difficult for Jessie and Amy to make +her understand the situation. In fact, she began +to feel and express doubts about the attempt that +was being made to discover and settle the legal +phases of the Padriac Haney estate. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +</p> +<p> +“If I don’t get my money and my island pretty +soon somebody else will get it instead,” was the +little girl’s confident statement. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Jess!” exclaimed Amy under her breath, +“suppose that should be so. You know Belle Ringold’s +father is trying to prove his title to the +same property.” +</p> +<p> +“Hush!” said Jessie. “Don’t let little Hen +hear about that. She is getting hard to manage +as it is. Henrietta! Where are you going now?” +she called after the little girl. +</p> +<p> +“I’m going out to take a look at some of my +island,” declared the child, as she banged the +screen door. +</p> +<p> +“She’s sure to get into trouble,” Jessie observed, +sighing. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, let her go,” Amy declared. “Why worry? +You can’t watch her every minute we are here. +She can’t very well fall overboard from this +island.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know. She manages to do the most +unexpected things,” said Jessie. +</p> +<p> +But there was so much to do in helping settle +things and make the sparsely furnished bungalow +comfortable that Jessie did not think for a while +about Henrietta. Besides, she was desirous of +setting up the radio instruments at once and stringing +the antenna. +</p> +<p> +Darry and Burd helped the girls do this last. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +They worked hard, for they had first of all to +plant in the sands some distance from the house +an old mast that Mr. Norwood bought so as to +erect the wires at least thirty feet above the +ground. +</p> +<p> +The antenna were not completed at nightfall. +Then, of a sudden, everybody began to wonder +about Henrietta. Where was she? It was remembered +that she had not been seen during most +of the afternoon. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear!” worried Jessie. “It is my fault. +I should not have let her go out alone that time, +Amy.” +</p> +<p> +“She said she wanted to see her island, I remember,” +admitted her chum, with some gravity. +“And this island is a pretty big place, and it is +growing dark.” +</p> +<p> +“She could not get into any trouble if she +stayed on Hackle Island,” declared Darry. “What +a kid!” +</p> +<p> +“And she certainly couldn’t have got off it,” +suggested Burd. +</p> +<p> +“We must look around for her,” said Jessie, +with conviction. “Don’t tell Momsy. She will +worry. She thinks I have had my eye on the child +all the time.” +</p> +<p> +“You certainly would have what they call a +roving eye if you managed to keep it on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +Henrietta,” giggled Burd Alling. “She darts about like +a swallow.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie felt it to be no joking matter. The four +young people separated and went in different directions +to hunt for the missing child. Station, +or Hackle, Island at this end was mostly sand +dunes or open flats. A little sparse grass grew in +bunches, and there were clumps of beach plum +bushes. Towards the golf course the land was +higher and there real lawn and trees of some +size were growing. +</p> +<p> +The low sand dunes stretched in gray windrows +right across the island. Jessie tried to think what +might have first attracted Henrietta at this end +of the island. She did not believe that she would +go far from the bungalow, although Amy wanted +to start at once for the hotel. That was the object +that attracted her first of all. +</p> +<p> +Jessie ran toward the far side of the island. It +was growing dark and everything on both sea and +shore looked gray and misty. The seabirds swept +overhead and whistled mournfully. Jessie shouted +Henrietta’s name as she ran. +</p> +<p> +But she began to labor up and down the sand +dunes with difficulty. It frightened Jessie Norwood +very much whenever Henrietta got into mischief +or into danger. No knowing what harm +might come to her on this lonely part of Station +Island. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +</p> +<p> +Nor was this fear in Jessie’s mind bred entirely +by the feeling that it was her duty to look out for +Henrietta. The child was an appealing little creature, +though she had had little chance in the world +thus far to develop her better and worthier qualities. +The pity that Jessie Norwood had felt for +the untamed girl at first was now blossoming into +love. +</p> +<p> +“What would I ever say to Bertha and Mrs. +Foley if anything happened to the child!” Jessie +murmured. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span><a name='chXI' id='chXI'></a>CHAPTER XI—TROUBLE</h2> +<p> +Jessie was beginning to learn that to guard +the welfare of a lively youngster like Henrietta +was no small task. The worst of it was, +she was so fond of the little girl that she worried +about her much of the time. And Henrietta +seemed to have a penchant for getting into trouble. +</p> +<p> +Jessie called, and she called again and again, +as she ploughed through the sand, and heard in +reply only the shrieks of the gulls and peewees. +Gray clouds had rolled up from the Western horizon +and covered completely the glow of sunset. +It was going to be a drab evening, and all the +hollows were already filled with shadow. +</p> +<p> +Jessie toiled up the slope of one sand-hill after +another, calling and listening, calling and listening, +but all to no avail. What <em>could</em> have become of +Henrietta Haney? +</p> +<p> +Suddenly Jessie fairly tumbled into an excavation +in the sand. Although she could not see the +place, her hands told her that the hole was deep +and the sand somewhat moist. The hole had been +dug recently, for the surface of the dunes was +still warm from the rays of the sun. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span> +</p> +<p> +She stumbled down the slope of the sand dune +and found another hole, then another. Dark as +it was in the hollow, when she kicked something +that rattled, she knew what it was. +</p> +<p> +“Henrietta’s pail and shovel!” Jessie exclaimed +aloud. “She has been here.” +</p> +<p> +She picked up the articles. Before leaving New +Melford she had herself bought the pail and +shovel for the freckle-faced little girl. +</p> +<p> +Where had the child gone from here? Already +Jessie was some distance from the group of bungalows. +As Henrietta insisted upon believing that +most of the island belonged to her “by good +rights,” there was no telling what part of it she +might have aimed for after playing in the sand. +</p> +<p> +Jessie shouted again, her voice wailing over the +sands almost as mournfully as the cries of the +sea-fowl. Again and again she shouted, but without +hearing a human sound in reply. She labored +on, and it grew so dark that she began to wish +one of the others had come with her. Even Amy’s +presence would have been a comfort. +</p> +<p> +She came to the brink of a yawning sand-pit, +the bottom of which was so dark she could not +see it. She began skirting this hollow, crying out +as she went, and almost in tears. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly Darry’s voice answered her. She +was fond of Darry—thought him a most wonderful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +fellow, in fact. But there was just one thing +Jessie wanted of him now. +</p> +<p> +“Have you seen her?” she cried. +</p> +<p> +“Not a bit. I have been away down to the +lighthouse. Nobody has seen her there.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Who you lookin’ for?” suddenly asked +a voice out of the darkness. +</p> +<p> +“Henrietta!” shrieked Jessie, and plunged +down into the dark sand-pit. +</p> +<p> +“Who’s lost?” asked the little girl again. +“Ow-ow! I—I guess I been asleep, Miss Jessie.” +</p> +<p> +“Has that kid shown up at last?” grumbled +Darry, climbing to the sand ridge. +</p> +<p> +“Is it night?” demanded Henrietta, as Jessie +clasped her with an energy that betrayed her relief. +“Why, it wasn’t dark when I came down +here.” +</p> +<p> +“How did you get down there?” demanded +Darry from above. +</p> +<p> +“I rolled down. I guess I was tired. I dug +so much sand——” +</p> +<p> +“Did you dig all those holes I found, Henrietta?” +demanded the relieved Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Why, no, Miss Jessie. I didn’t dig holes. I +dug sand and let the holes be,” declared the +freckle-faced little girl scornfully. +</p> +<p> +Darry sat down and laughed, but while he +laughed Jessie toiled up the yielding sand hill with +her hand clasping Henrietta’s. “Ow-ow!” yawned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +the child again. “When do we eat, Miss Jessie? +Or is eating all over?” +</p> +<p> +“Listen to the kid!” ejaculated Darry. “Here! +Give her to me. I’ll carry her. Want to go +pickaback, Hen?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, it’s dark and nobody can see us. I +don’t mind,” said Henrietta soberly. “But I +guess I’m too big to be lugged around that way +in common. ’Specially now that I own this island—or, +most of it—and am going to have money of +my own.” +</p> +<p> +“She’s harping on that idea too much,” observed +Darry to Jessie, in a low tone. +</p> +<p> +The latter thought so too. Funny as little +Henrietta was, the stressing of her expected fortune +was going to do her no good. Jessie began +to see that this fault had to be corrected. +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” she thought, stumbling along after +the young collegian and his burden, “I might as +well have a younger sister to take care of. Children, +as Mrs. Foley says, are a sight of trouble.” +</p> +<p> +They heard Amy and Burd shouting back of +the bungalow, and they responded to their cries. +</p> +<p> +“Did you find that young Indian?” cried Burd. +</p> +<p> +“You’ve hit it. This little squaw should be +named ‘Plenty Trouble’ rather than ‘Spotted +Snake, the Witch.’” +</p> +<p> +“Why,” said Henrietta, sleepily, “<em>I</em> never have +any trouble—of course I don’t.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +</p> +<p> +It was about as Jessie said, however: They +were never confident that the freckled little girl +was all right save when she was asleep. She had +bread and milk and went right to bed when they +got home with her. Then the evening was a busy +one for the quartette of older young folks. +</p> +<p> +The radio set was put into place in the library +of the bungalow. They had brought the two-step +amplifier and proposed to use that for most of +their listening in, rather than the headphones. +Although Darry and Burd helped in this preliminary +work, the girls really knew more about the +adjustment of the various parts than the college +youths. +</p> +<p> +But in the morning Darry and Burd strung the +wires and completed the antenna. The house connection +was made and the ground connection. By +noon all was complete and after lunch Jessie +opened the switch and they got the wave-length +of a New York broadcasting station and heard a +brief concert and a lecture on advertising methods +that did not, in truth, greatly interest the girls. +</p> +<p> +After that they tuned in and caught the Stratfordtown +broadcasting. They recognized Mr. +Blair’s voice announcing the numbers of the afternoon +concert program. +</p> +<p> +But radio did not hold the attention of these +young people all the time, although they had all +become enthusiasts. They were at the seashore, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +and there were a hundred things to do that they +could not do at home in Roselawn. The sands +were smooth, the surf rolled in white ruffles, and +the cool green and blue of the sea was most attractive. +One of the safest bathing beaches bordering +Station Island was directly in front of the bungalow +colony. +</p> +<p> +At four o’clock they were all in their bathing +suits and joined the company already in the surf +or along the sands. In any summer colony acquaintanceships +are formed rapidly. Jessie and +Amy had already seen some girls of about their +own age whom they liked the looks of, and they +were glad to see them again at the bathing hour. +</p> +<p> +“Is it a perfectly safe beach?” Mrs. Norwood +asked, and was assured by her husband that so it +was rated. There were no strong currents or +undertows along this shore. And, in any case, +there was a lifeguard in a boat just off shore and +another patrolling the sands. +</p> +<p> +“I ain’t afraid!” proclaimed Henrietta, dashing +into the water immediately. “Come on, Miss +Jessie! Come on, Miss Amy, you won’t get +drowned at my island.” +</p> +<p> +“What a funny little thing she is,” said one of +the friendly girls who overheard Henrietta. +“Does she think she owns Station Island?” +</p> +<p> +“That is exactly what she does think,” said +Amy, grimly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +</p> +<p> +“I never!” drawled the girl. “And there is a +girl up at the hotel who talks the same way. At +least, when she was down here yesterday she said +her father owns all this part of Station Island +and is going to have the bungalows torn down.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie and Amy looked at each other with understanding. +</p> +<p> +“I guess I know who that girl is,” said Amy +quickly. “It’s Belle Ringold.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. Her name is Ringold,” said their new +acquaintance. “Do you suppose it is so—that her +father can drive us all out of the cottages? You +know, we have already paid rent for the season.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span><a name='chXII' id='chXII'></a>CHAPTER XII—A DOUBLE RACE</h2> +<p> +Amy Drew scoffed at the thought of Belle +Ringold’s tale of trouble for the “bungalowites” +being true. +</p> +<p> +“She is always hatching up something unpleasant,” +she told the neighbor who had spoken +of Mr. Ringold’s claim to a part of Station Island. +“We know her. She comes from our town.” +</p> +<p> +But little Henrietta continued to tell anybody +who would listen that <em>she</em> owned a part of the +island and expected to take possession of the golf +links almost any day. The funny little thing, however, +was very generous in inviting people to remain +on “her island,” no matter what happened. +</p> +<p> +“Something has got to be done about that +child,” said Jessie, sighing. “I can’t control her. +She does say the most awful things. She has no +manners at all!” +</p> +<p> +“He, he,” chuckled Amy. “Hen was built without +any controller. I wouldn’t worry about her, +Jess. She’ll come out all right.” +</p> +<p> +“I hope she comes out of the water all right,” +murmured her chum, starting again after the very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +lively little girl who occasionally made dashes for +the surf as though she proposed to go right out to +sea. +</p> +<p> +But for one person Henrietta had some concern. +That was Mrs. Norwood. She thought Jessie’s +mother was a most wonderful person. And when +Mrs. Norwood had a chair and umbrella brought +to the sands and sat down within sight of Henrietta, +the older girls had some opportunity of having +a little amusement with the college boys. +</p> +<p> +“Come on,” Darry Drew said. “This staying +inshore is no fun. Beat you to the raft, girls, +and give you ten yards start.” +</p> +<p> +“O-oh! You can’t!” cried his sister, dashing +at once for the sea. +</p> +<p> +“Hold on! Hold on!” commanded Darry. “I +don’t believe you even know how long ten yards +is. Both you girls go in and stand even with that +pile yonder. You are headed for the raft. You +see the life saver beyond it, I hope?” +</p> +<p> +Amy made a face at him, settled her bathing +cap more firmly, and looked at Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Ready, Jess?” she asked. +</p> +<p> +“We’ll just beat them good,” declared her +chum. “They always think they can do things so +much better than us girls.” +</p> +<p> +“‘We’ girls,” corrected Amy, giggling. +</p> +<p> +“‘We’ or ‘us’—it doesn’t so much matter, as +long as we win the race,” said Jessie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +</p> +<p> +“All ready out there?” demanded Darry. +</p> +<p> +“They’re edging out farther,” observed Burd +Alling. “It wouldn’t matter if you gave them a +mile start; they’d take more if they could. Give +’em an inch and they’ll take an ell,” he quoted. +</p> +<p> +“You don’t know what an ell is,” scoffed his +friend. +</p> +<p> +“It’s something you put on a house after you +think you’ve got all the rooms you’ll ever need. +I know,” declared Burd, grinning. +</p> +<p> +“Come on out!” retorted Darry. “Cut the +repartee. You have got to swim your little best, +for those two girls are no slow-pokes.” +</p> +<p> +“You’ve said something,” agreed Burd. “Shoot! +I am ready, Gridley.” +</p> +<p> +“Huh!” exclaimed his chum. “You have even +forgotten your Spanish War history.” +</p> +<p> +“Shucks! They change history so fast now +you don’t more than learn one phase than you have +to forget it and learn some other fellow’s ‘hindsight’ +of important events. The only way to get +history straight,” declared the philosophical Burd, +“is to be Johnny-on-the-spot and see things happen.” +</p> +<p> +“Now!” shouted Darry to the girls. +</p> +<p> +The four splashed in, the girls starting with a +breast stroke and the boys having to run for some +distance until the sea was deep enough to enable +them to swim. The water beyond the ruffle of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +surf was almost calm. At least, the waves did not +break, but heaved in, in smooth rollers. As Amy +had said: The sea was taking deep-breathing +exercises. +</p> +<p> +Just now, however, she was not making jokes. +The two girls were doing their best to win the +race. Darry was a long, rangy fellow, and his +over-hand stroke was wonderful. Burd Alling—“tubby” +as he was—was an excellent swimmer. +The girls started with a dash, however, and they +kept up their speed for some rods before either +felt any fatigue. +</p> +<p> +The diving raft was a long distance out from +the beach, because the sandy bottom here sloped +very gradually. This part of the island was ideal +for swimming and bathing. If it was finally +proved that the old Padriac Haney estate belonged +to little Henrietta, she would control the +longest strip of beach on the island. +</p> +<p> +Amy flashed a glance over her shoulder to see +how close they were pursued, and almost lost +stroke. +</p> +<p> +“Come on!” panted Jessie. “Don’t let them +beat you.” +</p> +<p> +“Ain’t—go-ing—to,” gasped her chum, in four +short breaths. +</p> +<p> +They were more than half way to the raft, and +it really seemed as though the stronger—and +longer—arms of the two college boys were not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +aiding them to overtake the Roselawn girls. The +latter began to congratulate each other upon this—with +glances. They did not waste any more +breath in speech. +</p> +<p> +Rising high to change stroke, Jessie turned on +her side and did the over-hand. It heaved her +ahead of her chum for a yard or so; and it likewise +enabled her to see over the raft. The raft +chanced to be deserted, nor were there any swimmers +between her and the boat of the lifeguard +beyond the raft. +</p> +<p> +The man in the boat suddenly stood up. He +began waving his arms and shouting. As he was +looking shoreward Jessie thought he must be +cheering her and her chum on. She forged still +farther ahead of Amy, and the lifeguard became +more energetic in his motions. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly he dropped upon the seat of his boat, +grabbed the oars, and pulled the bow of the craft +around, heading it seemed, for the raft. He did +act peculiarly. +</p> +<p> +From behind her Jessie heard faintly a cry +from her chum: +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Jess! What’s that? What is it?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, it is the lifeguard,” rejoined Jessie +Norwood, flashing another glance over her +shoulder, but continuing to thrash forward at her +very best speed. +</p> +<p> +“No, no! That thing! In the water!” At +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +first Jessie saw nothing ahead but the raft. She +thought the lifeguard was hurrying to the raft +to meet Amy and herself if they won the race. +Another glance that she flashed back swept the +smooth, rolling sea as far as Darry and Burd, +endeavoring to overcome the handicap they had +given the two girl chums. +</p> +<p> +It was only then that Jessie realized that something +must be happening—some threatening thing +that she did not understand. From the rear +Darry’s hail reached Jessie’s ear: +</p> +<p> +“Turn back! Come back, Jess!” +</p> +<p> +“Why! what does he think?” considered Jessie, +amazed. “That I am going to stop and let him +and Burd beat us? I—guess—not!” +</p> +<p> +Then she heard the voice of the lifeguard. He +was driving his boat inshore with mighty strokes; +but he sat facing shoreward, too, using his oars +back-handed. He shouted: +</p> +<p> +“Shark! Shark! Look out for the shark!” +</p> +<p> +And behind Jessie Norwood her chum took up +the cry: +</p> +<p> +“Shark! Oh, Jess! Shark!” +</p> +<p> +The word, which had never meant much to Jessie +Norwood in her life before, being merely the +name of a quite unknown fish, suddenly became +the most important of words! She whirled over +and took up the breast stroke. She rose high in +the water again to look. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +</p> +<p> +Off at one side and seemingly swimming toward +them from a tangent, came a gray, sail-like thing, +the like of which the Roselawn girl had never +seen before. She accepted as true however the +identification of the lifeguard. He should know. +</p> +<p> +The race to the raft became suddenly a double +race. More than ever did Jessie Norwood wish +to win it! She desired to outswim the dangerous +fish of which she had heard such terrible stories. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span><a name='chXIII' id='chXIII'></a>CHAPTER XIII—MORE THAN ONE ADVENTURE</h2> +<p> +Jessie was badly frightened, but she was not +too scared to swim as hard as she could for +the diving raft. The lifeguard drove his +boat around the end of the raft toward the gray, +sail-like object which had so startled them all. +Jessie remembered of reading that the dorsal fin +of a shark shows above water when it swims at +the surface. This odd looking thing must be it—it +must be! +</p> +<p> +She measured the distance between it and herself +with some calculation. It came on in a halting, +undecided way. Perhaps the shark had not +yet caught sight of any of the swimmers. Jessie +flung up her arm and shouted at the top of her +voice to her chum: +</p> +<p> +“Come on! Come on! Don’t let him get +you!” +</p> +<p> +Amy was struggling so hard to reach the raft +now that she had no breath left for speech. Jessie +saw her splashing on in her wake. Behind, the +boys were making a great splashing too, and Jessie +realized that it was for an object. The shark +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +might be frightened away if they made disturbance +enough in the water. +</p> +<p> +Jessie was now very near the raft and the other +three were bunching up not far behind her. The +lifeguard shot by in his boat, yelling like mad. +Darry shouted: +</p> +<p> +“Get aboard the raft, girls! Burd and I will +beat him off till you are landed!” +</p> +<p> +“You come right on here, Darrington Drew!” +sputtered his sister. “What good will you ever +be if you get your leg bit off?” +</p> +<p> +Jessie reached the raft and seized a loop of +rope hanging from it. If it had not been for this +assistance she doubted if she could have hauled +herself out of the water. When Amy arrived, +her chum was lying over the edge of the refuge, +and reached one arm out for her. +</p> +<p> +“Quick! Quick!” cried Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Do—don’t scare me so!” gasped Amy. “I—I +feel just as though he was nibbling at my toes +right now!” +</p> +<p> +But it seemed no laughing matter to Jessie Norwood. +Her chum, however, would find a joke in +even the most serious circumstance. And the +moment she lay on the raft beside Jessie she began +to laugh, gaspingly. +</p> +<p> +“This is no laughing matter!” Jessie declared. +“How can you, Amy? Darry and Burd——” +</p> +<p> +At that instant a wild shout rose from the two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span> +collegians and from the lifeguard who had rowed +so energetically to their rescue. Amy broke off +suddenly in her nervous laughter. +</p> +<p> +“He’s got ’em!” she shrieked. “Oh! Oh!” +</p> +<p> +But, strange though it seemed to her, Jessie +realized that Darry and Burd were laughing. And +the astonished expletives that the guard emitted +did not seem to show fear. +</p> +<p> +“What is the matter?” Jessie demanded, standing +up. +</p> +<p> +“And where is the shark?” asked Amy, likewise +scrambling to her feet. +</p> +<p> +The boys were hanging to the side of the +guard’s boat. He was fishing for something in +the water with an oar. He finally got the object +and raised it aloft. +</p> +<p> +“What is it?” repeated Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“The shark!” shrieked her chum. +</p> +<p> +It actually was all the shark there was—a pair +of partly deflated swimming wings which, carried +here and there by the wind, had looked like a +shark’s dorsal fin at a distance. +</p> +<p> +“Good thing you girls saw it,” declared Darry, +when the boys lumbered along to the raft. “If +you hadn’t been so scared you never would have +beat us. Would they, Burd?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course not,” agreed his friend. “And how +Jess can swim—when there is a man-eating shark +after her!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +</p> +<p> +“Don’t make fun,” Jessie said, somewhat exasperated. +“It might have been a shark. Then +where would you have been?” +</p> +<p> +“Either here or inside the shark,” said Darry. +“One thing sure, he never could have caught you +girls.” +</p> +<p> +“Well,” Amy sighed, “we had all the excitement +of racing with a shark, even if the shark +was only in our minds. I’ll never be so scared by +one again.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” exclaimed Jessie. “I know I shall +always be nervous in the water here after this. +I’ll always be looking for one. What an awful +feeling it is to try to swim when one is being +pursued by——” +</p> +<p> +“By a pair of swimming wings,” chuckled +Burd. “Some imagination you’ve got, my dear +Jess.” +</p> +<p> +There was a serious side to the matter, however. +Although the shark scare had proved to be +groundless, the quartette decided to say nothing +about it to those ashore. +</p> +<p> +“Especially to Momsy,” Jessie Norwood said. +“I don’t want to make her nervous. Little things +annoy her.” +</p> +<p> +“She’ll be some annoyed by little Hen, then,” +chuckled Amy. “Hen is worse than any shark +you ever saw.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +</p> +<p> +“How terrible!” cried Jessie. “She is not a +bad child at all, but she is wild enough.” +</p> +<p> +When they swam ashore later they found Henrietta +on her good behavior with Momsy. Nobody +on the sands had chanced to see the excitement +out by the raft. Or, if they had, it was +merely supposed that the four young people from +Roselawn were playing in the water. +</p> +<p> +Jessie, however, felt rather serious about it. +And she knew she would never go into the sea +again at Station Island without thinking about +sharks. +</p> +<p> +While they were playing hand-ball on the beach, +still in their bathing suits, a low-wheeled pony +carriage came along the drive from the upper end +of the island, and Amy’s sharp eyes spied and +recognized the two girls seated on the back seat +of the vehicle. +</p> +<p> +“And that’s Bill Brewster driving!” cried Amy. +“Some difference between the speed of that quadruped +and his sports car.” +</p> +<p> +“One thing sure,” chuckled Burd. “He can’t +do so much damage with that old Dobbin as he +did with the car he drives about New Melford.” +</p> +<p> +“Belle and Sally have got a hen on,” said the +slangy Amy to Jessie. “See them whispering together?” +</p> +<p> +“I can see what they are up to from right where +I stand,” announced Darry, dropping the ball. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +“Come on, Burd! Let’s beat it for the raft again. +That’s one place those two girls can’t follow us +without bathing suits.” +</p> +<p> +“He, he!” giggled his sister. “I hope they sit +right down here and wait for you to come ashore.” +</p> +<p> +“Send out our supper by the lifeguard,” called +Burd, as he followed his chum into the surf. “We +fear sharks less than we do a certain brand of +featherless biped.” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose it would be too pointed for us to +run away,” said Amy to Jessie, as Bill Brewster +drove the pony carriage out on to the beach. +</p> +<p> +“Belle has got her eye on us, that is a fact,” +agreed Jessie. +</p> +<p> +She was curious, especially after what their +new friend had told them an hour before about the +story that Belle Ringold was circulating. Belle +was eager to talk—as she always was. +</p> +<p> +“So your folks got one of these bungalows, did +they, after all, Jess Norwood?” she began. “I +suppose you know there is no surety that you can +keep it a month?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know about that. I guess father attended +to the lease. And he is a lawyer, you +know,” said Jessie, quietly. +</p> +<p> +“Pooh! Yes,” said Belle, tossing her head. +“But there are lawyers and lawyers! My father +has the smartest lawyer in New York working +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +for him. And I suppose you know about the claim +he has against all the middle of this island?” +</p> +<p> +“We have heard that <em>you</em> have a claim on the +island—or think you have,” said Amy slyly. “But, +then, Belle, you always did think you owned the +earth.” +</p> +<p> +“Now, Miss Smartie, don’t be too funny! +Father is going to prove his right to the golf +course and all these bungalows. Don’t you fear— Why! +There’s that terrible Henrietta Haney! +How did she come here?” +</p> +<p> +“She is with us,” said Jessie shortly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, indeed! One of your week-end guests, +I suppose?” scoffed Belle. “We are entertaining +General O’Bigger and Mrs. O’Bigger at the hotel. +Of course, we would not live in one of these small +bungalows—not even if we needed a vacation.” +</p> +<p> +“You wouldn’t,” said Henrietta promptly, “because +I wouldn’t let you.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Oh! Hear that child!” cried Sally Moon. +</p> +<p> +“Nor you, neither,” declared Henrietta. “All +them houses are mine—or they are going to be.” +</p> +<p> +“Hush, Henrietta,” commanded Jessie, in a low +voice. +</p> +<p> +“Didn’t the funny little thing say something +before about owning an island?” asked Belle, +somewhat puzzled. +</p> +<p> +“And this is it,” said Henrietta. “You just +try to come into any of them bungleloos! I’d get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +a policeman and have him take you out. So +now!” +</p> +<p> +“<em>Will</em> you behave?” said Jessie, feeling like +shaking the child, and in reality leading her away. +</p> +<p> +Amy came running after them in the midst of +Jessie’s berating of the freckle-faced girl. +</p> +<p> +“Did you ever hear such nonsense?” Jessie’s +chum demanded. “Belle declares the case is coming +up in court next week and that her father is +going to win. Did you ever?” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Norwood was sitting with his wife when +they came near to that lady’s beach chair. Jessie +was anxious enough to ask about Belle’s statement +regarding the imminent court investigation of the +controversy over Station Island. +</p> +<p> +“Why, yes, Ringold’s lawyers claim they have +found new evidence entitling him to be heard as +a claimant to the Padriac Haney estate,” the +lawyer acknowledged. “But there may not be anything +in it.” +</p> +<p> +“But is there a possibility, Robert?” Momsy +asked, seeing how anxious both Jessie and the little +girl looked. +</p> +<p> +“There is nothing sure in any case that comes +into court,” declared her husband. “Besides, +those attorneys of Ringold’s are sharp fellows. +He may make his claim good.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” burst out Henrietta. +“And then I won’t have nuthin’? No island, nor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +golf link, nor—nor nuthin’? Oh, dear me!” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind, honey,” Jessie begged. “You +have friends. You have <em>me</em>.” And she sat down +on the sands and took the freckle-faced little girl +in her arms. +</p> +<p> +“Ye-es, Miss Jessie. I know I got you,” sobbed +Henrietta. “But—but you ain’t a golf link, nor +you ain’t a bungleloo. And—and I want to turn +that Ringold girl off my island, I do!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span><a name='chXIV' id='chXIV'></a>CHAPTER XIV—SOMETHING NEW IN RADIO</h2> +<p> +The Stanleys arrived at Station Island the +next day, the doctor having arranged for a +substitute preacher at the Roselawn +Church for two Sundays. The bungalow they had +arranged to occupy was one of the colony not far +from the big house the Norwoods and their party +were staying in. +</p> +<p> +Darry and Burd began to spend a good deal of +their time on the yacht after that first day. Amy +accused her brother of being afraid of a flank attack +by Belle Ringold and Sally Moon, and he +admitted that he had hoped to escape those two +“troublesome kids” when he came to the island. +</p> +<p> +“I came here as the guest of little Hen Haney,” +he declared soberly. “And I don’t wish to be +annoyed by any girls older than she is.” +</p> +<p> +But he did not say this within Henrietta’s hearing. +The little girl went around with a very long +face indeed. She seemed to think that she was +going to lose her island. Even Nell Stanley, who +was a general comforter at most times, could not +alleviate little Henrietta’s woe. +</p> +<p> +With the coming of the Stanleys, however, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +Henrietta became less of a trial to Jessie. For +Sally Stanley was just about Henrietta’s age and +the two children got along splendidly together. +</p> +<p> +Bob and Fred, those lively and ingenious +youngsters, made their own friends among the +boys of the bungalow colony. The three girls +from Roselawn—Jessie, Amy, and Nell—found +plenty to do and enjoyed themselves thoroughly +during the next few days. Being all interested in +radio they naturally spent some time at Jessie’s +set. But unfortunately it did not work as well +here as it had at home. +</p> +<p> +“And I do not know why,” Jessie ruminated. +“I have been studying up about it and the more +I read the less I seem to know. There are so many +different opinions about how an amateur set should +be built. Do you know, sometimes I feel as though +I should have an entirely different kind of outfit. +There is a new super-regenerative circuit that is +being talked about.” +</p> +<p> +“But some people say it is not practicable for +amateurs,” broke in Nell. “I’ve read so, anyway.” +</p> +<p> +“I should like to talk with some professional—some +radio expert—about that,” Jessie confessed. +“If I had thought before we left home I would +have spoken to Mr. Blair.” +</p> +<p> +“You’ll have to wait until you get back, then,” +said Amy promptly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span> +</p> +<p> +“Why?” cried Nell suddenly. “There must be +experts over at that Government station.” +</p> +<p> +“That is so,” agreed Jessie, thoughtfully. “Do +you suppose they would——” +</p> +<p> +“Let’s go and see,” urged Nell. “I’m crazy to +see the inside of that station, anyway.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s wireless—like the little outfit aboard the +<em>Marigold</em>,” Amy suggested. +</p> +<p> +“But so much bigger,” Jessie chimed in eagerly. +“If they admit visitors, let’s go.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Norwood found out about that particular +point for the girls and reported that if they went +over to the station in the late afternoon the operator +on duty would be glad to show them “the +works” and give them all the information in his +power. +</p> +<p> +The three friends went alone, for the collegians +were off fishing that day on the <em>Marigold</em>. They +left the little girls in Mrs. Norwood’s care and +slipped away about four o’clock and walked to the +station, which was some distance from the bungalow +colony. They had to climb the stairs in the +old shaft of the lighthouse to the wireless room. +The room was half darkened and they heard the +snapping of the spark, and even saw the faint blue +flash of it when they came to the door. +</p> +<p> +The operator, with his head harness on, was +busy at his set. Jessie, at least, had spent some +time trying to learn the Morse code since talking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +the matter over with Darry on the yacht. But +although the signals the operator received were +in dots and dashes, she could not understand a +single thing. +</p> +<p> +“I am afraid it will take us a long time to +learn,” she said to Amy, sighing. “We shall have +to buy a regular telegraph set and learn in that +way.” +</p> +<p> +“I wish you wouldn’t talk about learning anything!” +cried her chum. “Vacation is slipping +right away from us.” +</p> +<p> +After a few moments the spark stopped snapping, +the operator closed his switch and removed +his harness. He wheeled around on the bench and +welcomed them. He was really a very pleasant +young man, and he explained many things about +both the radio-telegraph and radio-telephone that +the girls had not known before. +</p> +<p> +He was so friendly that Jessie ventured to ask +him about the new super-regenerative circuit in +which she was interested. +</p> +<p> +“Yes. I’m strong for that new thing,” said the +wireless operator, enthusiastically. “In the first +place, it was invented by the man who originated +the ordinary regenerative circuit so much in use +at present, and also of the super-heterodyne circuit. +I understand this new circuit permits a current +amplification up to a million times, and all +with three tubes. You know, to reach such a high +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +mark with your ordinary regenerative circuit, +many more tubes would be necessary.” +</p> +<p> +“I understand that,” said Jessie. “But can an +amateur build and practically work this new circuit?” +</p> +<p> +“Why not? If you follow directions carefully. +And with the new outfit a loop is just as effective +an antenna as an outside aerial. They say, too, +that to catch broadcasting for not more than +twenty-five miles, not even a loop is needed, the +circuits themselves acting as the absorbers of +energy.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m going to try it,” declared Jessie, with more +confidence. “But I feel that I understand so little +about the various forms of radio, after all.” +</p> +<p> +“You have nothing on me there,” laughed the +operator. “I am learning something new all the +time. And sometimes I am astonished to find out +how, after five years of work with it, I am really +so ignorant.” +</p> +<p> +The girls had a very interesting visit at the +station; and from the operator Jessie and Amy +gained some particular instruction about sending +and receiving messages in the telegraph code. He +received several messages from ships at sea while +the girls remained in the station, and likewise relayed +other messages received from inland stations +both up and down the coast and to vessels far out +at sea. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +</p> +<p> +“It is a wonderful thing,” said Nell, as the girls +walked homeward. “I never realized before how +great an influence wireless already was in commercial +life. Why, how did the world ever get along +without it before Marconi first thought of it?” +</p> +<p> +“How did the world ever get along without +any other great invention?” demanded Amy. +“The sewing machine, for instance. I’ve got to +run up a seam in one of my sports skirts, for there +is no tailor, they say, nearer than the hotel. I do +wish a sewing machine had been included in the +furnishings of your bungalow, Jess. I hate to sew +by hand.” +</p> +<p> +The boys had come in before the Roselawn girls +returned for dinner, and they were very enthusiastic +over a plan for taking a part of the bungalow +crowd on an extended sailing trip. They had met +Dr. Stanley walking the beaches, and he had expressed +a desire to go to sea for a day or two, and +at once Darry and Burd had conceived a plan for +the young folks to be included. +</p> +<p> +“The doctor is a good enough chaperon,” said +Darry, with a laugh. “Nell shall come. Her +Aunt Freda will be down to look after the +children.” +</p> +<p> +“And Henrietta?” asked Jessie, hesitatingly. +</p> +<p> +“For pity’s sake!” cried Darry, in some impatience. +“Don’t be tied down to that kid all the +time. You’d think you were a grandmother.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well, I like that!” exclaimed Jessie. “I’m not +sure that I want to go on your old yacht, Darry +Drew.” +</p> +<p> +“Aw, Jess——” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’ll think about it,” murmured Jessie, +relenting. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span><a name='chXV' id='chXV'></a>CHAPTER XV—HENRIETTA IN DISGRACE</h2> +<p> +Darry and Burd seemed to have little time +to spend ashore these days. They said +that they had a lot to do to fix up the +<em>Marigold</em> for the proposed trip seaward. But +Amy accused them of being afraid of Belle Ringold +and Sally Moon. +</p> +<p> +“Belle is determined that she shall get an invitation +to sail aboard your yacht, Darry,” teased his +sister. “Don’t forget that.” +</p> +<p> +“Not if we see her first,” responded Burd, +promptly. “And don’t you ring her in on us, for +if you do we’ll not let you aboard the <em>Marigold</em> +either. How about it, Darry?” +</p> +<p> +“Good enough,” agreed Amy’s brother. +“Oh, I promise not to ring Belle Ringold in on +you,” giggled Amy. +</p> +<p> +“It is perfectly disgraceful how you boys teach +these girls slang,” Mrs. Drew remarked with a +sigh. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Mother!” cried Darry, his eyes twinkling, +“they teach it to us. You accuse Burd and +me wrongfully. We couldn’t tell these girls a +single thing.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +</p> +<p> +This was at breakfast at the Norwood bungalow. +After breakfast the young folks separated. +But Jessie and Amy had no complaint to make +about the boys. They had their own interests. +This day they had agreed to explore the island +with Nell Stanley as far as the hotel grounds. +</p> +<p> +They took Henrietta and Sally Stanley along, +and carried a picnic lunch. The older girls were +rather curious to see the extent of “Henrietta’s +domain,” as Amy called it. The pastures included +in the Hackle Island Golf Club grounds covered +all the middle of the island, and consisted of hills +and dells, all “up-and-down-dilly,” Amy observed, +and from a distance, at least, seemed very attractive. +</p> +<p> +Of course, they could not go fast with the two +smaller girls along, although Henrietta seemed +tireless. +</p> +<p> +“But Sally ain’t a tough one, like me,” declared +the little girl who thought she was going to own +an island. She approved of Sally Stanley very +much because the minister’s little girl was dainty, +and kept her dresses clean, and was soft-spoken. +“I got to run and holler once in a while or I thinks +I’m choking,” confessed Henrietta. “But your +mamma, Miss Jessie, says I’ll get over that after +a while. She says I’ll go to school and learn a lot +and that <em>maybe</em> I’ll be as nice as Sally some day.” +</p> +<p> +“I hope you will,” said Jessie warmly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +“That’s hardly to be expected,” Henrietta rejoined +in her old-fashioned way. “Sally was born +that way. But I always was a tough one.” +</p> +<p> +“There is a good deal in that,” sighed Jessie +to the other Roselawn girls. “The poor little +thing! She never did have a chance. But Momsy +is already talking about sending her away to school +to have her toned down and——” +“Suppose the Blairs won’t hear to it?” suggested +Amy. +“Leave it to Momsy to work things out her +way,” said Jessie, more gaily. +</p> +<p> +They soon left the sand dunes behind them and +marched up over what the natives of the island +called “the downs” to a scrubby pasture at the +edge of the golf links. Crossing the links watchfully +they only had to dodge a couple of times +when the players called “Fore!” and so got safely +past the various greens and reached the patch of +wood between the club premises and the hotel +grounds. +</p> +<p> +There was a spring here which they had been +told about, and it was near enough noon for lunch +to occupy an important place in their minds. They +spent an hour here; but after that, much as she +had eaten, Henrietta began to run around again. +She could not keep still. +</p> +<p> +Her voice was suddenly stilled and she halted +in the path and stood like a pointer flushing a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +covey of birds. The older girls were surprised. +Amy drawled: +</p> +<p> +“What’s the matter, Hen? You don’t feel sick, +do you?” +</p> +<p> +“I hear something,” declared Henrietta, her +freckled face clouding. “I hear somebody talk +that I don’t like.” +</p> +<p> +“Who is that?” asked Nell. +</p> +<p> +“She makes me feel sick, all right,” grumbled +the little girl. “Oh, yes! It’s her. And if she +says again that she owns my island, I’ll—I’ll——” +</p> +<p> +“Belle Ringold!” exclaimed Amy, much amused. +“Can’t we go anywhere without Belle and Sally +showing up?” +</p> +<p> +The two girls whom they all considered so unpleasant +appeared at the top of the small hill and +came down the path. They were rather absurdly +dressed for an outing. Certainly their frocks +would have looked better at dinner or at a dance +than in the woods. And they strutted along as +though they quite well knew they had on their very +best furbelows. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear me! there’s that awful child again,” +drawled Belle, before she saw the older girls sitting +at the spring. +</p> +<p> +“She must be lost away up here,” said Sally +Moon, idly. “Say, kid, run get this folding cup +filled at the spring.” +</p> +<p> +“What for?” demanded Henrietta. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +</p> +<p> +“Why, so I can drink from it, foolish!” +</p> +<p> +“You bring me a drink first,” said the freckle-faced +girl stoutly. “Nobody didn’t make me your +servant to run your errands—so now!” +</p> +<p> +“Listen to her!” laughed Belle. “She waits on +Jess Norwood and Amy Drew hand and foot. Of +course she is a servant.” +</p> +<p> +“You ain’t a servant when you wait on folks for +<em>love</em>,” declared Henrietta, quickly. +</p> +<p> +Amy clapped her hands together softly at this +bit of philosophy. Jessie stood up so that the girls +from the hotel could see her. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Here’s Jess Norwood now,” cried Sally. +“You might know!” +</p> +<p> +Little Henrietta was backing away from the +two newcomers, but eyeing them with great disfavor. +She suddenly demanded of Jessie: +</p> +<p> +“Is this spring on a part of my land, Miss +Jessie?” +</p> +<p> +“It may be,” said Amy, quickly answering before +Jessie could do so. “Like enough all this +grove is yours, Hen.” +</p> +<p> +“Why,” gasped Belle Ringold, “my father is +just about to take possession of this place. He is +going to have surveyors come on the island and +survey it.” +</p> +<p> +“This is my woods!” cried Henrietta. “It’s my +spring! You sha’n’t even have a drink out of it—neither +of you girls!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +</p> +<p> +“What nonsense!” drawled Belle. “Who will +stop us, please?” and she came on down the path +toward the spring. +</p> +<p> +The other girls had now got up. Jessie tried to +reach out and seize Henrietta; but the latter was +so angry that she jerked away. She stood before +Belle and Sally with flashing eyes and her hands +clenched tight. +</p> +<p> +“You go away! This is my woods and my +spring! You sha’n’t have a drink!” +</p> +<p> +“The child is crazy,” said Belle, harshly. “Let +me pass, you mean little thing!” +</p> +<p> +At that Henrietta stooped and caught up dirt +in each grubby hand. It was a little damp where +she stood, and the muck stuck to her palms. She +shrieked hatred and defiance at Belle and, running +forward, smeared the dirt all up and down the +front of the rich girl’s fine dress. +</p> +<p> +Belle shrieked quite as loudly as the angry Henrietta +and threatened all manner of punishment. +But she could not catch the freckled girl, who was +as wriggly as an eel. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll—I’ll have you whipped! You ought to be +spanked hard!” panted Belle Ringold. “And it is +your fault, Jess Norwood. You egged her on.” +</p> +<p> +“I did not,” said Jessie, angrily. +</p> +<p> +But she was vexed with Henrietta, too. She ran +after and caught the panting, sobbing little thing. +She really was tempted to shake her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean, Henrietta Haney, by acting +this way and talking so? Do you want to disgrace +us all? For shame!” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t talk no worse than the Ringold one,” +declared Henrietta. +</p> +<p> +Jessie tried a new tack. She said more quietly: +“But <em>you</em> know better, Henrietta.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, ma’am.” +</p> +<p> +“And perhaps she doesn’t,” ventured Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Well—er—she’s got money,” pouted Henrietta. +“Why doesn’t she hire somebody to teach +her better? You know I never did have any +chance, Miss Jessie.” +</p> +<p> +She felt she was in disgrace, however, and the +older girls let her feel this without compunction. +Belle was frightfully angry about her frock. She +sputtered and threatened and called names that +were not polite. Finally Jessie said: +</p> +<p> +“If you feel that way about it, Belle, send the +dress to the cleaner’s and then send the bill to my +mother. That is all I can say about it. But I +think you brought it on yourself by teasing Henrietta.” +</p> +<p> +In spite of this speech to Belle, Henrietta felt +that she was in disgrace as Jessie marched her +away from the spring. Little Sally Stanley came +to her other side and squeezed Henrietta’s dirty +hand in sympathy. +</p> +<p> +“Huh!” snuffled Henrietta. “It’s too bad you’ve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span> +got the same name as that Moon girl, Sally. Why +don’t you ask the minister to change it for you? +He christens folks, doesn’t he?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, yes,” murmured Sally, uncertainly. “But +I was christened, you know, oh, years and years +ago.” +</p> +<p> +“That don’t cut no ice,” replied Henrietta, unconscious +that her language was not all it ought to +be. “You just have him do it over again. And +don’t be no ‘Sally,’ nor no more ‘Belle.’” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span><a name='chXVI' id='chXVI'></a>CHAPTER XVI—“RADIO CONTROL”</h2> +<p> +Jessie Norwood had talked over the matter +of the new super-regenerative circuit with +her father and had got him interested in the +idea of using one to improve their own radio receiving. +It was not difficult to interest Mr. Norwood +in it, for he had become a radio enthusiast +like his daughter since the Roselawn girls had +broken into the wireless game. +</p> +<p> +With the large party now in the Norwood’s +bungalow in Station Island, it was not convenient +to use only the head-phones when the radio concerts +were to be received out of the ether. The +two-step amplifier Mr. Norwood had formerly +bought did not always work well, especially, for +some unknown reason, since they had come to the +seashore. +</p> +<p> +In addition, the sounds through the horn seemed +to be scratchy and harsh, a good deal like the +sounds from a poor talking machine. From what +Jessie had read, she understood that these harsh +noises would be obviated if the super-regenerative +circuit was put in. Her father had telegraphed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +for the material to build the super-regenerative +and amplifier circuit, and the material came by express +the morning after the picnic on which Henrietta +had disgraced herself. +</p> +<p> +“We will try the thing here on the island,” +Mr. Norwood said to Jessie. “If it works here it +will surely work back at Roselawn, for the temperature, +or humidity, or something, is different there +from what it is here. At least, so it seems to me, +and the state of the air surely influences radio.” +</p> +<p> +“Static,” said Jessie, briefly, reading the instructions +in the book. +</p> +<p> +Amy, of course, was quite as interested in the +new invention as her chum; and Nell, too. But +they were not so clear in their minds as was Jessie +about what should be done in building the new set. +Jessie was glad to have her father show so much +interest, for he was eminently practical, and when +the girls were uncertain how to proceed it was nice +to have somebody like the lawyer to turn to. +</p> +<p> +He even let Mr. Drew and the two mothers go +off to the golf course that day without him, while +he gave his aid to the girls. The boys were cleaning +up the yacht in preparation for the voyage they +expected to make in a short time. +</p> +<p> +Nell’s Aunt Freda had arrived that morning, so +the minister’s daughter did not have to worry at +all about Bob and Fred and Sally. +</p> +<p> +“And to help out,” Amy said, with a giggle, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +“Henrietta is invited over to the Stanley bungalow +to play with little Sally.” +</p> +<p> +“I guess Aunt Freda will get along all right with +them,” observed Nell, with some amusement. +“But Fred pretty nearly floored her at the start. +She says it takes her several hours to get ‘acclimated’ +when she comes to our house.” +</p> +<p> +“What did Fred say—or do?” asked Jessie, +interested. +</p> +<p> +“There was something Aunt Freda advised him +to do and he said he would—‘to-morrow.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Don’t you know,’ she asked him, ‘that “to-morrow +never comes”?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Gee! and to-morrow’s my birthday,’ grumbled +Fred. ‘Now I suppose I won’t have any.’” +</p> +<p> +“What kids they are!” gasped Amy, when she +had recovered from her laughter. “I don’t know +whether a younger brother is worse than an older +brother or not. I’ve had my troubles with Darrington,” +and she sighed with mock seriousness. +</p> +<p> +“Ha!” exclaimed Jessie. “I guess he’s had his +troubles with you. Do you remember when you +smeared your hands all up with chocolate cake and +tried to wipe them clean on Darry’s new trousers?” +</p> +<p> +Nell shouted with laughter at this revelation, +but it did not trouble Amy Drew in the least. +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” she admitted. “My taste in the art of +dressing, you see, was well developed even at that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +early age. Those trousers, I remember, were of +an atrocious pattern.” +</p> +<p> +“Nonsense!” cried Jessie. “They were Darry’s +first long pants, and you were mad to think he was +so much older than you that he could put on men’s +clothes.” +</p> +<p> +“Dear me!” sighed Amy. “You make me out +an awful creature, Jess Norwood. But, never +mind. Darry has paid me up and to spare for +that unladylike trick. He <em>has</em> been a trial—and +is so yet. He doesn’t know how to pick a decent +necktie. His shirts—some of them—are so loud +that you can see him coming clear across The +Green. Why! they tell me that his shirts are as +well known in New Haven, and almost as prominently +mentioned by the natives, as the Hartley +Memorial Hall; and almost <em>nobody</em> gets away +from the City of Elms without being obliged to +see that.” +</p> +<p> +“What a reckless talker you are, Amy!” Jessie +said, smiling. “And I will not hear you run Darry +down. I think too much of him myself.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t let him guess it,” said the absent Darry’s +sister, with a grin. “It will spoil him—make him +proud and hard to hold.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s a good one!” laughed Nell. “You +think Darry can be as easily spoiled by praise as +the Chinese servant Reverend tells about that he +had in California. This was before I was born. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span> +Father and mother got a Coolie right at the dock. +You could do that in those days. And John +scarcely knew a word of English, not even the +pidgin variety. +</p> +<p> +“But Reverend says that when John acquired a +few English words he was so proud that there was +no holding him. He asked the name of every new +object he saw and mispronounced it usually in the +most absurd manner. Once John found a sparrow’s +nest in the grapevine and shuffled into Reverend’s +study to tell him about it. +</p> +<p> +“‘Is there anything in the nest yet, John?’ Reverend +asked him. +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes,’ the Chinaman declared, puffed up with +his knowledge of the new language, ‘Spallow alle +samme got pups.’” +</p> +<p> +While they chattered and laughed the three +girls were as busy as bees with the new radio arrangement. +Amy said that Jessie kept them so +hard at work that it did not seem at all as though +they were “vacationing.” It was good, healthy +work for all. +</p> +<p> +“It does seem awfully quiet here without Hen,” +went on Amy, hammering on a board with a heavy +hammer and making the big room where the radio +set was, ring. “She keeps the place almost as +tomb-like as a boiler shop—what?” +</p> +<p> +“You can make a little noise yourself,” Jessie +told her. “What’s all the hammering for?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +</p> +<p> +“So things won’t sound too tame. How are we +getting on with the new circuit?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Amy Drew! you just helped me place +this vario-coupler. Didn’t you know what you +were doing?” +</p> +<p> +“Not a bit,” confessed Amy. “You are away +out of my depth, Jess. And don’t try to tell me +what it all means, that’s a dear. I never can remember +scientific terms.” +</p> +<p> +“Put up the hammer,” said Nell, laughing. +“You are a confirmed knocker, anyway, Amy. But +I admit I do not understand this tangle of wires.” +</p> +<p> +They did not seek to disconnect the old regenerative +set that day, for there was much of interest +expected out of the ether before the day was over. +One particular thing Jessie looked for, but she had +said nothing about it to anybody save her very +dearest chum, Amy, and the clergyman’s daughter, +Nell. +</p> +<p> +Two days before she had done some telephoning +over the long-distance wire. Of course there +was a cable to the mainland from Station Island, +and Jessie had called up and interviewed Mark +Stratford at Stratfordtown. +</p> +<p> +Mark was a college friend of Darry and Burd, +but he was likewise a very good friend of the Roselawn +girls—and he had reason for being. As related +in a previous volume, “The Radio Girls on +the Program,” Jessie and Amy had found a watch +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +Mark had lost, and as it was a valuable watch and +had been given him by his grandmother, Mark was +very grateful. +</p> +<p> +Through his influence—to a degree—Jessie and +Amy had got on the program at the Stratfordtown +broadcasting station. And now Jessie had talked +with the young man and arranged for a surprise by +radio that was to come off that very evening at +“bedtime story hour.” +</p> +<p> +Henrietta and little Sally and Bob and Fred +Stanley, as well as some of the other children of +the bungalow colony, crowded into the house at +that time to “listen in” on the Roselawn girls’ instrument. +</p> +<p> +The amplifier worked all right that evening, +and Jessie was very glad. The little folks arranged +themselves on the chairs and settees with some +little confusion while Jessie tuned the set to the +Stratfordtown length of wave. There was some +static, but after a little that disappeared and they +waited for the announcement from the faraway +station. +</p> +<p> +By and by, as Henrietta whispered, the radio +began to “buzz.” “Now we’ll get it!” cried the +little Dogtown girl. “I hope it is about the little +boy with the rabbit ears that he could wiggle.” +</p> +<p> +“S-sh!” commanded Jessie, making a gesture +for silence. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +</p> +<p> +And then out of the air came a deep voice: +</p> +<p> +“We have with us this evening, children, the +Radio Man, who, just like Santa Claus, knows all +our little shortcomings, as well as our virtues. +Have you all been good boys and girls to-day? +Don’t all say ‘Yes’ at once. Better stop and think +about it before you speak. +</p> +<p> +“Before the bedtime story,” went on the voice +out of the horn, “the Radio Man must tell some of +you that you must take care, or you will get on the +black list. Here is a little girl, for instance, who +may be rich when she grows up. But she must +have a care. People who grow up rich and own +islands must be very nice.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Oh! That’s me!” gasped Henrietta. +“How’d he know me?” +</p> +<p> +“So I have to warn Henrietta, the little girl I +speak of, that there is a lot she must do if she +wishes in time to enjoy the wealth which she expects.” +</p> +<p> +At that the other children began to exclaim. +It was Henrietta. They almost drowned out the +first of the bedtime story with their excited voices. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” exclaimed Henrietta, “I guess everybody +knows about my owning this island, so that +Ringold one needn’t talk! But Miss Jessie’s +mother told me what I had got to do to deserve +my island.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span> +</p> +<p> +“What have you got to do?” asked Amy, curiously. +“The Radio Man says you must be good.” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Jessie’s mother says I’ve got to make +folks love me or I won’t enjoy my island at all—so +now. But,” she added confidentially, “I don’t +believe I ever shall want that Ringold one and +Sally Moon to love me. Do you s’pose that’s +nec-sary?” +</p> +<p> +After the children had gone the older girls discussed +a point that Amy brought up regarding the +incident. Of course, Amy was in fun, for she +said: +</p> +<p> +“Listen! Didn’t I read something about ‘radio +control’ in one of our books, Jess? Well, there is +an example of radio control—control of children. +Henrietta is going to remember that she is on the +Radio Man’s list. She’ll be good, all right!” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Norwood laughed. “How do we know +what great developments may come within the +next few years in the line of radio control? Already +the control of an aeroplane has been tried, +and proved successful. A submarine may be governed +from the shore. The drive of a torpedo +has already been successfully handled by wireless. +</p> +<p> +“In time, perhaps a farmer may sit before a keyboard +in his office and manage tractors plowing +and cultivating his fields. Ships of all descriptions +will be managed by compass control. And automobiles——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +</p> +<p> +“I hope Bill Brewster learns to handle his red +car by wireless,” chuckled Amy. “It will then be +less dangerous to himself and to his friends, if not +to pedestrians,” and this quaint idea amused all the +Roselawn girls. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span><a name='chXVII' id='chXVII'></a>CHAPTER XVII—THE TEMPEST</h2> +<p> +Jessie, Amy, and Nell had spied, on their hike +and picnic, an inlet in the shore of the island +facing the mainland, on the sands of which +were several fish houses and several rowboats and +small sailboats that the girls were sure might be +had for hire. +</p> +<p> +“We might have shipped our new canoe down +here and had some fun,” Amy said. “That bay is +a wonderful place to sail in. Why, you can scarcely +see the port on the other side of it. And the +island defends it from the sea. It is as smooth as +can be.” +</p> +<p> +Nell was very fond of rowing, and she expressed +a wish that they might go out in one of +the open boats. She would row. So the three +chums escaped the younger children the next afternoon +and slipped over to the other side of the +island, across the sand dunes. +</p> +<p> +They found an old fisherman who was perfectly +willing to hire them a boat, and, really, it was not +a bad boat, either. At least, it had been washed +out and the seats were clean. The oars were +rather heavier than Nell Stanley was used to. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +</p> +<p> +“You need heavy oars on this bay, young lady,” +declared the boat-owner. “Nothing fancy does +here. When a squall comes up——” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but you don’t think it looks like a squall +this afternoon, do you?” Jessie interrupted. +</p> +<p> +“Dunno. Can’t tell. Ain’t nothing sartain +about it,” said the pessimistic old fellow. “Sometimes +you get what you don’t most expect on this +bay. I been here, man and boy, all my life, and I +give you my word I don’t know nothing about the +weather.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, come on!” exclaimed Amy, under her +breath. “What a Job’s comforter he is! Who +ever heard of a fisherman before who didn’t know +all about the weather?” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe we had better not go far,” Jessie, who +was easily troubled, said hesitatingly. +</p> +<p> +“Come on,” said Nell. “He just wants to keep +us from going out far. He is afraid for his old +tub of a boat.” +</p> +<p> +She said this rather savagely, and Jessie thought +it better to say nothing more of a doubtful nature, +having two against her. Besides, the sky seemed +quite clear and the bay was scarcely ruffled by the +wind. +</p> +<p> +The old man sat and smoked and watched them +push off from the landing without offering to help. +He did not even offer to ship the rudder for them, +although that was a clumsy operation. When +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +Jessie and Amy had managed to secure it in place, +while Nell settled herself at the oars, the old man +shouted: +</p> +<p> +“That other thing in the bow is a anchor. You +don’t use that unless you want to stay hitched +somewhere. Understand?” +</p> +<p> +“He must think we are very poor sailors,” said +Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“I feel like making a face at him—as Henrietta +does,” declared Amy. “I never saw such a cantankerous +old man.” +</p> +<p> +Nell braced her feet and set to work. She was +an athletic girl and she loved exercise of all kind. +But rowing, she admitted, was more to her taste +than sweeping and scrubbing. +</p> +<p> +Amy steered. At least, she lounged in the stern +with the lines across her lap. Jessie had taken her +place in the bow, to balance the boat. They +moved out from shore at a fine pace, and even +Amy soon forgot the grouchy old fisherman. +</p> +<p> +There were not many boats on the bay that +afternoon—not small boats, at least. The steamer +that plied between the port and the hotel landing +at the north of the island at regular hours passed +in the distance. A catboat swooped near the girls +after a time, and a flaxen-haired boy in it—a boy +of about Darry Drew’s age—shouted something +to them. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose it is something saucy,” declared +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span> +Amy. “But I didn’t hear what he said and sha’n’t +reply. I don’t feel just like fighting with strange +boys to-day.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie was the first to see the voluminous clouds +rising from the horizon; but she thought little of +them. The descending sun began to wallow in +them, and first the girls were in a patch of shadow, +and then in the sunlight. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you want me to row some, Nell?” Jessie +asked. +</p> +<p> +“I’m doing fine,” declared the clergyman’s +daughter. “But—but I guess I am getting a blister. +These old oars are heavy.” +</p> +<p> +“We ought to have made him give us two +pairs,” complained Amy. “Then the two of you +could row.” +</p> +<p> +“Listen to her!” cried Jessie. “She would never +think of taking a turn at them. Not Miss Drew!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I am the captain,” declared Amy. “And +the captain never does anything but steer.” +</p> +<p> +They had rowed by this time well up toward the +northerly end of the island. Hackle Island Hotel +sprawled upon the bluff over their heads. It was +a big place, and the grounds about it were attractive. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t see Belle or Sally anywhere,” drawled +Amy. “And see! There aren’t many bathers +down on this beach.” +</p> +<p> +“This is the still-water beach,” explained Jessie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +“I guess most of them like the surf bathing on the +other side.” +</p> +<p> +There were winding steps leading up the bluff to +the hotel. Not many people were on these steps, +but the seabirds were flying wildly about the steps +and over the brow of the bluff. +</p> +<p> +“Wonder what is going on over there?” +drawled Amy, who faced the island just then. +</p> +<p> +Nell stopped rowing to look at the incipient blister +on her left palm. Jessie bent near to see it, +too. Nobody was looking across the bay toward +the mainland. +</p> +<p> +“You’d better let me take the oars,” Jessie said. +“You’ll have all the skin off your hand.” +</p> +<p> +“Why should you skin yours?” demanded Nell. +“These old oars are heavy.” +</p> +<p> +“How dark it is getting!” drawled Amy. “Even +the daylight saving time ought not to be blamed +for this.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie looked up, startled. Over the mainland +a black cloud billowed, and as she looked lightning +whipped out of it and flashed for a moment like a +searchlight. +</p> +<p> +“A thunderstorm is coming!” she cried. “We’d +better turn back.” +</p> +<p> +But when Nell looked up and saw the coming +tempest she knew she could never row back to the +inlet before the wind, at least, reached them. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span> +</p> +<p> +“We’ll go right ashore,” she said with confidence. +</p> +<p> +“What do you say, Amy?” Jessie asked. +</p> +<p> +“Far be it from me to interfere,” said the other +Roselawn girl, carelessly, and without even turning +around to look. “I’m in the boat and will go +wherever the boat goes.” +</p> +<p> +Nell, settling to the oars again with vigor, remarked: +</p> +<p> +“One thing sure, we don’t want the boat overturned +and have to follow it to the bottom. Oh! +Hear that thunder, will you?” +</p> +<p> +Amy woke up at last. She twitched about in +the stern and stared at the storm cloud. It was +already raining over the port, and long streamers +of rain were being driven by the rising wind out +over the bay. +</p> +<p> +“Wonderful!” she murmured. +</p> +<p> +“Where are you going, Nell?” suddenly +shrieked Jessie. “The boat is actually turning +clear around!” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t blame me!” gasped Nell. “I am pulling +straight on, but that girl has twisted the rudder +lines. Do see what you are about, Amy, and please +be careful!” +</p> +<p> +“My goodness!” gasped the girl in the stern. +“It’s going to storm out here, too.” +</p> +<p> +She frantically tried to untangle the rudder +lines; but while she had been lying idly there, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +had twisted them together in a rope, and she was +unable to untwist them immediately. Meanwhile +the thunder rolled nearer, the lightning flashed +more sharply, and they heard the rain drumming +on the surface of the water. Little froth-streaked +waves leaped up about the boat and all three of +the girls realized that they were in peril. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span><a name='chXVIII' id='chXVIII'></a>CHAPTER XVIII—FROM ONE THING TO ANOTHER</h2> +<p> +“Let ’em alone, Amy!” begged Jessie, +from the bow. “You are only twisting +the boat’s head around and making it +harder for Nell to row.” +</p> +<p> +“I—could—do better—if the rudder was unshipped,” +declared Nell, pantingly. +</p> +<p> +Immediately Amy jerked the heavy rudder out +of its sockets. Fortunately she had got the lines +over her head before doing this, or she might have +been carried overboard. +</p> +<p> +For the rudder was too much for Amy. The +rising waves tore it out of her hands the instant +it was loose, and away it went on a voyage of its +own. +</p> +<p> +“There!” exclaimed Jessie, with exasperation. +“What do you suppose that grouchy old man will +say when we bring him back his boat without the +rudder?” +</p> +<p> +“He won’t say so much as he would if we didn’t +bring him back his boat at all,” declared Amy. +“I’ll pay for the rudder.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie felt that the situation was far too serious +for Amy to speak so carelessly. She urged Nell to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span> +let her help with the oars; and, in truth, the other +found handling the two oars with the rising waves +cuffing them to and fro rather more than she had +bargained for. +</p> +<p> +Jessie shipped the starboard oar in the bow and +together she and Nell did their very best. But the +wind swooped down upon them, tearing the tops +from the waves and saturating the three girls with +spray. +</p> +<p> +“I guess I know what that white-haired boy +tried to tell us,” gasped Amy, from the stern. “He +must have seen this thunderstorm coming.” +</p> +<p> +“All the other boats got ashore,” panted Nell. +“We were foolish not to see.” +</p> +<p> +“Nobody on lookout—that’s it!” groaned Amy. +“Oh!” +</p> +<p> +A streak of lightning seemed to cross the sky, +and the thunder followed almost instantly. Down +came the rain—tempestuously. It drove over the +water, flattening the waves for a little, then making +the sea boil. +</p> +<p> +“Hurry up, girls!” wailed Amy. “Get ashore—do! +I’m sopping wet.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie and Nell had no breath with which to +reply to her. They were pulling at the top of their +strength. The shore was not far away in reality. +But it seemed a long way to pull with those heavy +oars. +</p> +<p> +The rain swept landward and drove everybody, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span> +even the few bathers, to cover. The shallow water +was torn again into whitecaps and a lot of spray +came inboard as Jessie and Nell tried their very +best to reach the strand. +</p> +<p> +Amy could do nothing but encourage them. +There was no way by which she might aid their +escape from the tempest. One thing, she did nothing +to hinder! Even she was in no mood for +“making fun.” +</p> +<p> +In fact, this tempest was an experience such as +none of the three girls had seen before. Jessie +and Nell were well-nigh breathless and their arms +and shoulders began to ache. +</p> +<p> +“Let me exchange with one of you, Nell! Jess!” +cried Amy, her voice half drowned by the noise of +wind and rain. +</p> +<p> +“Stay where you are!” commanded Jessie, from +the bow, as her chum started to come forward. +“You might tip us over!” +</p> +<p> +“Sit down!” sang the cheerful Nell. “Sit down, +you’re rocking the boat!” +</p> +<p> +“But I want to help!” complained Amy. +</p> +<p> +“You did your helping when you got rid of that +rudder,” returned Nell, comfortingly. “Do be +still, Amy Drew!” +</p> +<p> +“How can one be still in such a jerky, pitching +boat?” gasped the other girl. “Do—do you +think you can reach land, Jessie Norwood?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span> +</p> +<p> +“I’ve hopes of it,” responded her chum. “It +isn’t very far.” +</p> +<p> +“I wonder how far it is to—to land underneath +the keel?” sputtered Amy. +</p> +<p> +“For pity’s sake stop that!” cried Nell Stanley. +“Don’t suggest such gloomy and gruesome things.” +</p> +<p> +“Well,” grumbled Amy, “I believe it’s the nearest +land.” +</p> +<p> +“I shouldn’t be surprised,” panted Jessie. “But +don’t talk about it, Amy.” +</p> +<p> +The rain swept over and past the small boat in +such heavy sheets that finally the girls could +scarcely see the shore at all. Amy found something +to do—and something of importance. Although +not much water slopped into the boat over +the sides, the rain itself began to fill the bottom. +The water was soon ankle deep. +</p> +<p> +“Bail it! Bail it!” shouted Nell. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! is that what the tin dipper is for?” gasped +Amy. “I—I thought it was to drink out of.” +</p> +<p> +Afterward “Amy’s drinking cup” made a joke, +but just then nobody laughed at the girl’s mistake. +She set to work with vigor to bail out the boat, +and kept it up “for hours and hours” she declared, +though the others insisted it was “minutes and +minutes.” +</p> +<p> +At last they reached the strand. +</p> +<p> +One of the bathing house men ran out to help +pull the bow of the boat up on the sands. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span> +</p> +<p> +“Run along up to the hotel!” he cried. “There +is no good shelter down here for you.” +</p> +<p> +The moment they could do so the three girls +leaped ashore. Thus relieved of their weight, the +boat was the more easily dragged out of the reach +of the waves, which now began to roll in madly. +The lightning increased in its intensity, the thunder +reverberated from the bluff. The tempest +was at its height when they hastened to mount the +winding wooden stair. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my blister! Oh, my blister!” moaned +Nell, as she climbed upward. +</p> +<p> +“Everything I’ve got on sticks to me like a twin +sister,” declared Amy Drew. “Oh, dear! How +shall we ever get home in these soaked rags?” +</p> +<p> +“We must go to the hotel,” cried Jessie. “Come +on.” +</p> +<p> +She was the first to reach the top of the stairs. +There was a garden and lawn to cross to reach the +veranda. As the rain was beating in from this +direction none of the hotel guests was on this side +of the house. The three wet girls ran as hard as +they could for shelter. +</p> +<p> +Just as Jessie, leading the trio, came up the +veranda steps, she heard a loud and harsh voice +exclaim: +</p> +<p> +“Well, of all things! I’d like to know what you +girls think you are doing here? You have no +business at this hotel. Go away!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span> +</p> +<p> +Jessie almost stopped, and Amy and Nell ran +into her. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, do go on!” cried Amy. “Let us get inside +somewhere——” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I should say <em>not</em>!” broke out the harsh +voice again, and the three Roselawn girls beheld +Belle Ringold and Sally Moon confronting them +on the piazza. “Just look at what wants to get +into the hotel, Sally! Did you ever?” +</p> +<p> +“They look like beggars,” laughed Sally. “The +manager would give them marching orders in a +hurry, I guess.” +</p> +<p> +“Do let us in out of the rain,” Jessie said +faintly. She did not know but perhaps the hotel +people would object to strangers coming inside. +But Amy demanded: +</p> +<p> +“What do you think you have to say about it, +Belle Ringold? Is this something more that you +or your folks own? Do go along, Belle, and let +us pass.” +</p> +<p> +“Not much; you won’t come in here!” declared +Belle, setting herself squarely in their way. “No, +you don’t! That door’s locked, anyway. It belongs +to Mrs. Olliver’s private suite—Mrs. Purdy +Olliver, of New York. I am sure she won’t want +you bedrabbled objects hanging around her windows.” +</p> +<p> +“Go around to the kitchen door,” said Sally +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +Moon, laughing. “That is where you look as +though you belonged.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that’s good, Sally!” cried Belle. “Ex-act-ly! +The kitchen door!” +</p> +<p> +At that moment another flash of lightning and +burst of thunder made the two unpleasant girls +from New Melford cringe and shriek aloud. They +backed against the closed door Belle had mentioned +as being the wealthy Mrs. Olliver’s private +entrance. +</p> +<p> +Amy and Nell screamed, too, and the three wet +girls clung together for a moment. The rain came +with a rush into the open porch, and if they could +be more saturated than they were, this blast of rain +would have done it. +</p> +<p> +“We have got to get under shelter!” shouted +Jessie, and dragged her two friends farther into +the veranda. Belle and Sally might have been +mean enough to try to drive them back, but at +this point somebody interfered. +</p> +<p> +A long window, like a door, opened and a lady +looked out, shielding herself from the wind by +holding the glass door. +</p> +<p> +“Girls! Girls!” she cried. “You will be +drowned out there. Come right in.” +</p> +<p> +“Fine!” gasped Amy, not at all under her +breath. “Belle doesn’t own the hotel, after all!” +</p> +<p> +“It’s Mrs. Olliver!” exclaimed Sally Moon in +a shrill voice, as she and Belle came out of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +retirement and likewise approached the open window. +</p> +<p> +“Come right in here,” said the lady, cheerfully, +as Jessie and her friends approached. “You are +three very plucky girls. I saw you out in your +boat when the storm struck you. Come in and +I’ll have my maid find you something dry to put +on.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, fine!” sighed Amy again. +</p> +<p> +The trio of storm-beaten girls hastened in out +of the wind and rain; but when Belle and Sally +would have followed, Mrs. Olliver stopped them +firmly. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you belong in the hotel?” she asked. +“Then go around to the main entrance if you +wish to come in. You are at home.” +</p> +<p> +She actually closed the French window—but +gently—in the faces of the bold duo. Amy, at +least, was vastly amused. She winked wickedly +at Jessie and Nell Stanley. +</p> +<p> +“This will break Belle’s heart,” she whispered. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span><a name='chXIX' id='chXIX'></a>CHAPTER XIX—BOUND OUT</h2> +<p> +Jessie thought that the very wealthy Mrs. +Purdy Olliver was no different from Momsy +or Mrs. Drew or Nell’s Aunt Freda. She +was just polite and kind. Secretly the girls from +Roselawn thought the lady was very different +from Belle’s mother and Mrs. Moon. Perhaps +that fact was one reason why the unpleasant Belle +Ringold had spoken in some awe of the New York +woman. +</p> +<p> +She had a really wonderful suite at the Hackle +Island Hotel, for she had furnished it herself and +came here every year, she told her young visitors. +There was a lovely big bath room with both a tub +and a Roman shower. +</p> +<p> +“Though, you can believe me,” said Amy, “I +don’t have any idea that many of the old Romans +had baths like this. It was ‘the great unwashed’ +that supported Cæsar. ‘Roman bath’ is only a +name.” +</p> +<p> +“Wrong! Not about Cæsar’s crowd, but about +the Romans in general as bathers,” answered Jessie. +“Read your Roman history, girl. Or if not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span> +that—and you won’t—some historical novels.” +</p> +<p> +“Humph!” sniffed Amy, but made no further +reply. +</p> +<p> +The girls laughingly disrobed and tried the +shower, while the maid dried their outer clothing, +furnishing each of the guests with kimono or +negligee. Then they came out into Mrs. Olliver’s +living room and took tea with her. +</p> +<p> +They did not get their own clothes back until +nearly six o’clock, and saw nothing of Belle and +Sally when they came out of the hotel. Perhaps +that was because they left by Mrs. Olliver’s private +door and ran right down the steps to the +beach where they had left the boat. +</p> +<p> +The kind woman had asked them to come and +see her again, and was especially cordial when +she knew that Jessie was the daughter of the Mrs. +Norwood who had been chairman of the foundation +fund committee of the Women’s and Children’s +Hospital of New Melford. +</p> +<p> +“I think that idea of having a radio concert by +which to raise funds for the hospital was unusually +good,” the New York woman said. “It was the +first thing that interested me in radio-telephony. +I mean to have a set put in here soon. There is +a big one in the hotel foyer, but it does not work +perfectly at all times.” +</p> +<p> +“Dear me,” said Nell, as the girls descended to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span> +the beach, “you run into radio fans everywhere, +don’t you? How interesting!” +</p> +<p> +The boat was all right, only half filled with +water. The bathhouse man came and turned the +craft over for them and emptied it. Jessie +thanked and tipped him and he pushed them off. +Jessie and Amy each took an oar and made Nell +sit in the stern and nurse her blister. +</p> +<p> +“It really is something of a blister,” Amy remarked, +looking at it carefully. +</p> +<p> +“There’s water in it already, and it hurts!” +wailed the clergyman’s daughter. +</p> +<p> +“I see the water,” declared Amy. “It may be +an ever-living spring there. You know, people +have water on the brain and water on the knee; +but seems to me a spring in your hand must be +lots worse.” +</p> +<p> +“You never will be serious,” said Nell, half +laughing. “If the blister was on your hand——” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t say a word! I think I shall have one +before we reach the landing,” declared Amy. +“And, girls, what do you suppose that grouchy +old fisherman will say when he sees we lost his +rudder?” +</p> +<p> +“He won’t see that,” replied Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“What! Why, listen to her!” gasped Amy. +“Is she going to try to get away before he misses +the rudder?” +</p> +<p> +“Not at all,” returned her chum calmly, while +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +Nell began to laugh. “It was <em>you</em> who lost the +rudder, Amy Drew. Nell and I had nothing to +do with that crime.” +</p> +<p> +“Ouch!” cried Amy. “I wouldn’t have lost it +if it hadn’t been for the thunderstorm coming +down on us so suddenly. And that old fellow +didn’t warn us of any squall.” +</p> +<p> +“He warned us that squalls were prevalent on +the bay,” replied Nell. “He said he knew nothing +about the weather. And I guess he told the +truth.” +</p> +<p> +“There is a great lack of unaminity in this +trio,” complained Amy. “If I lost the rudder, +didn’t we all lose it?” +</p> +<p> +When they reached the inlet, however, the old +fisherman was just as surprising as he had been in +the first place. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t blame me,” he said when the girls came +ashore. “I told you I didn’t know anything about +the weather. I wouldn’t have been surprised if +you’d lost the boat.” +</p> +<p> +“We only lost a part of it,” said Amy quickly. +“The rudder.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, it wasn’t much good. I can find another +around somewhere. Lucky to get the hull of the +boat back, I am.” +</p> +<p> +“You didn’t get the whole of it back, I tell you,” +said Amy, soberly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span> +</p> +<p> +He blinked at her, and without even a smile, +said: +</p> +<p> +“Oh! You mean that for a joke, do you? +Well, I don’t understand jokes any more than I +do the weather. No, you needn’t pay me for the +rudder. ’Tain’t nothing.” +</p> +<p> +The trio had a good deal to talk about when +they got home, but Darry and Burd came in at +dinner with the news that the <em>Marigold</em> was all +ready for sea and that they would get under way +right after breakfast the next morning. +</p> +<p> +Dr. Stanley and his daughter and Jessie and +Amy were to be the boys’ guests on this trip, and +the idea was to go along the coast as far as Boston +and return. Mrs. Norwood had become used by +this time to the boys going back and forth in the +yacht and after her own voyage down to the island +had forgotten her fears for the young folks. +</p> +<p> +“I am sure Darry will not expose the girls to +danger,” she said to her husband. “But I am +glad Dr. Stanley is going with them. He has such +good sense.” +</p> +<p> +Henrietta wanted to go along. She did not +see why she could not go on the yacht if “Miss +Jessie and Miss Amy” were going. She might +have whined a bit about it, if it had not been that +she was reminded of the Radio Man. +</p> +<p> +“You want to look out,” Amy advised her. +“You know the Radio Man is watching you and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +like enough he’ll tell everybody just how bad you +are.” +</p> +<p> +“Gee!” sighed Henrietta. “It’s awful to be +responsible for owning an island, ain’t it?” +</p> +<p> +The girls were eager to be off in the morning, +and they scurried around and packed their overnight +bags and discussed what they should wear +for two hours before breakfast. Burd was not +to be hurried at his morning meal. +</p> +<p> +“No knowing what we may get aboard ship,” +he grumbled. “If it comes up rough there may +be no chance at all to eat properly.” +</p> +<p> +“Now, Burd Alling!” exclaimed Amy. “How +can you?” +</p> +<p> +“How can I eat? Perfectly. Got teeth and a +palate for that enjoyment.” +</p> +<p> +“But don’t suggest that we may have bad +weather. After that tempest yesterday——” +</p> +<p> +“You’ll have no hotel to run to if we get squally +weather,” laughed her brother. “I think, however, +that after that shower we should have clear +weather for some time. Don’t let the ‘Burd Alling +Blues’ bother you.” +</p> +<p> +“Anyway,” said Jessie, scooping out her iced +melon with some gusto, “we have a radio on board +and we can send an S O S if we get into trouble, +can’t we?” +</p> +<p> +“Come to think of it,” said Darry, “that old +radio hasn’t been working any too well. You will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +have to give it the once over, Jess, when you get +aboard.” +</p> +<p> +This made Jessie all the more eager to embark +on the yacht. She was so much interested in radio +that she wanted, as Amy said, to be “fooling with +it all of the time!” +</p> +<p> +But when they got under way and the <em>Marigold</em> +steamed out to sea there were so many other +things to see and to be interested in that the girls +forgot all about the radio for the time being, in +the mere joy of being alive. +</p> +<p> +Darry had shipped a cook; but the boys had to +do a good deal of the deck work to relieve the +forecastle hands. Stoking the furnace to keep up +steam was no small job. The engines of the <em>Marigold</em> +were old and, as Skipper Pandrick said, “were +hogs for steam.” To tell the truth the boilers +leaked and so did the cylinders. The boys had +had trouble with the machinery ever since Darry +had put the <em>Marigold</em> into commission. But the +young owner did not want to go to the expense +of getting new driving gear for the yacht. And, +after all, the trouble did not seem to be serious. +</p> +<p> +The speed of the boat, however, was all the +girls and other guests expected. The sea was +smooth and blue, the wind was fair, the sun shone +warmly, and altogether it was a charming day. +Nobody expected trouble when everything was so +calm and blissful. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span> +</p> +<p> +But some time before evening haze gathered +along the sealine and hid the main shore and +Hackle Island, too. Nobody expected a sea spell, +however, from this mild warning—not even Skipper +Pandrick. +</p> +<p> +“This is a time of light airs, if unsettled,” he +said. “Thunderstorms ashore don’t often bother +ships at sea. There’s lightning in them clouds +without a doubt, but like enough we won’t know +anything about it.” +</p> +<p> +It was true the <em>Marigold’s</em> company was not +disturbed in the least during the evening. After +dinner the heavy mist drove them below and they +played games, turned on the talking machine, and +sang songs until bedtime. Sometime in the night +Jessie woke up enough to realize that there was +an unfamiliar noise near. +</p> +<p> +“Do you hear it?” she demanded, poking Amy +in the berth over her head. +</p> +<p> +“Hear what?” snapped Amy. “I do wish you +would let me sleep. I was a thousand miles deep +in it. What’s the noise?” +</p> +<p> +“Why,” explained Jessie, puzzled, “it sounds +like a cow.” +</p> +<p> +“Cow? Huh! I hope it’s a contented cow, I +do, or else the milk may not be good for your +coffee.” +</p> +<p> +“She doesn’t sound contented,” murmured Jessie. +“Listen!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span> +</p> +<p> +The silence outside the portlight was shattered +by a mournful, stuttering sound. Nell Stanley sat +up suddenly on the couch across the stateroom and +blinked her eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, mercy!” she gasped. “There must be a +terrible fog.” +</p> +<p> +“Fog?” squealed Amy. “And Jessie was telling +me there was a cow aboard. Is that the fog-horn? +Well, make up your mind, Jess, you’ll get +no milk from that animal.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span><a name='chXX' id='chXX'></a>CHAPTER XX—SOMETHING SERIOUS</h2> +<p> +The three girls did not sleep much after +that. The grumbling, stuttering notes of +the foot-power horn seemed to fill all the +air about the <em>Marigold</em>. Darry told them at +breakfast that he used this old-fashioned horn on +the yacht because it took too much steam if they +used the regular horn. +</p> +<p> +“This is a great old tub,” complained Burd, who +had spent the previous hour at the device. “She +makes only steam enough to blow the horn when +you stop the engines. Great! Great!” +</p> +<p> +“You’d kick if you were going to be hung,” +observed his chum. +</p> +<p> +“Might as well be hung as sentenced to the +treadmill. I suppose I have to go back and step +on the tail of that horn after breakfast?” +</p> +<p> +“You’ll take your turn if the fog does not lift.” +</p> +<p> +“What could be sweeter!” grumbled Burd, and +fell to on the viands before him with a just appreciation +of the time vouchsafed him for the meal. +Burd’s appetite never failed. +</p> +<p> +The fog, however, lifted. But it was a gray +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +day and the girls looked upon the vessels which +appeared out of the mist about them with an interest +which was half fearful. +</p> +<p> +“Suppose one of those <em>had</em> run into us?” suggested +Jessie. “And there is a great liner off +yonder. Why, if that had bumped us we must +have been sunk——” +</p> +<p> +“Without trace,” finished Amy, briskly. “The +old cow’s mooing did some good, I guess, Jess,” +and she chuckled. +</p> +<p> +She had told the boys about her chum thinking +there must be a cow aboard in the night, and of +course they all teased Jessie a good deal about it. +She laughed with them at herself, however. Jessie +Norwood was no spoil-sport. +</p> +<p> +The <em>Marigold</em> steamed into the east all that +afternoon. But the weather did not improve. +The hopes of a fair trip were gradually dissipated, +and even the skipper looked about the horizon and +shook his head. +</p> +<p> +“Seems as though there was plenty of wind +coming, Mr. Darrington,” he said to the owner +of the yacht. “If these friends of yours are easily +made sea-sick, we’d better get into shelter somewhere.” +</p> +<p> +“Where’ll we go?” demanded Darry. “Here +we are off Montauk.” +</p> +<p> +“With the direction the wind is going to blow +when she gets going, we’d better run for the New +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span> +Harbor at Block Island and get in through the +breech there. It’ll be calm as a millpond, once +we’re inside.” +</p> +<p> +When Darry asked the others, however, the +consensus of opinion was that they keep on for +Boston. +</p> +<p> +“Can’t we take the inside passage—go through +the Cape Cod Canal?” asked Dr. Stanley. “That +should eliminate all danger.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, there’s no danger,” Darry said. “The +yacht is as seaworthy as can be. But I don’t want +any of you to be uncomfortable.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m a good sailor,” declared Nell. +</p> +<p> +“You know Jess and I are used to the water,” +Amy hastened to say. “Let us go on, Darry.” +</p> +<p> +But the wind sprang up a little later and began +to blow fitfully. The skipper considered it safer +to keep well out to sea. Inshore waters are often +dangerous even for a craft of as light draught as +the <em>Marigold</em>. +</p> +<p> +The crowd sat on deck, keeping as much as possible +in the shelter of the deckhouse, and were +just as jolly as though there was no such thing +on the whole ocean as a storm. Dr. Stanley told +them several of his funny stories, and amused the +young folks immensely. +</p> +<p> +In the midst of the general hilarity Nell went +below for something. She was gone for some +minutes and Jessie, at least, began to wonder +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span> +where she was when she saw Nell’s hand beckoning +to her from an open stateroom window. Jessie +got up and moved toward the place, wondering +what the doctor’s daughter had discovered that so +excited her. +</p> +<p> +“What is it, Nell?” Jess whispered. +</p> +<p> +“Come down here—do!” exclaimed the other +girl, her tone half muffled. +</p> +<p> +“What is the matter?” Jessie exclaimed, in +wonder. +</p> +<p> +But she slipped around to the other side of the +cabin, faced the gale, and reached the companionway. +She darted down, being careful to shut tight +the slide behind her. Already the waves were +buffeting the small yacht and spray was dashing +in over the weather rail. +</p> +<p> +Jessie found some difficulty in keeping her feet +in the close cabin. It was so dark outside that the +interior of the yacht was gloomy. She groped her +way to their stateroom, which was the biggest +aboard. +</p> +<p> +“What is the matter, Nell?” demanded Jessie, +pushing open the door and peering in. +</p> +<p> +Nell Stanley’s face was white. She stood by +the open window. At Jessie’s appearance she began +to sob and tremble. +</p> +<p> +“I—I’m so frightened, Jess!” she gasped. +</p> +<p> +“Why, you silly! I thought you said you were +a good sailor?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +</p> +<p> +“It isn’t that,” Nell told her. “Don’t—don’t +you smell it?” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t I smell what?” +</p> +<p> +“Come in and shut the door. Now smell—smell +<em>hard</em>!” +</p> +<p> +Jessie began to giggle. “What do you mean? +Why! I see a little haze of smoke by the window. +Do I, or don’t I?” +</p> +<p> +“I opened the window to let it out. But—but +it comes more and more, Jessie,” stammered the +clergyman’s daughter. “I believe the yacht is on +fire, Jessie!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Don’t say that!” murmured Jessie Norwood, +suddenly frightened herself. +</p> +<p> +“When I came in the room was full of smoke +and—don’t you smell it?” +</p> +<p> +“It doesn’t smell very nice,” admitted her +friend. “Where does the smoke come from? +Where <em>can</em> it come from?” +</p> +<p> +“It must come from below—from the hold +under us.” +</p> +<p> +“But what can be burning? This is not a cargo +boat,” said the puzzled Jessie. “We don’t want +to frighten them all, especially if it amounts to +nothing.” +</p> +<p> +“I know. That is why I called you first,” Nell +declared, anxiously. “I—I wasn’t sure.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I am sure of one thing,” said Jessie +confidently. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span> +</p> +<p> +“What is that?” +</p> +<p> +“This is a very serious thing if it is serious. +We must tell Skipper Pandrick at once. Let him +decide what is to be done.” +</p> +<p> +“You wouldn’t tell Darry?” +</p> +<p> +“The skipper is responsible. We won’t frighten +the boys if we don’t need to,” and Jessie tried to +open the door again. “Come on. Don’t stay here +and get asphyxiated.” +</p> +<p> +“It is all right with the window open,” said +Nell. +</p> +<p> +She turned to follow her chum and saw Jessie +tugging at the door-knob and stopped, amazed. +The other girl used both hands, but could not turn +the knob. She tugged with all her strength. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Jessie Norwood! what is the matter with +it?” whispered Nell, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“The mean old thing won’t open! It’s a spring +lock. How did it get locked this way, do you suppose?” +</p> +<p> +“You slammed it when you came in, Jess,” Nell +said. “But I had no idea that it could be locked +that way. Especially from the outside. Oh, dear! +Shall I shout for one of the boys? Shall I?” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t!” gasped Jessie, still struggling with the +door-knob. “Don’t you know if one of them +comes here and sees this smoke, everybody will +know it?” +</p> +<p> +“They’ll have to know it pretty soon,” said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +Nell. “The smoke is coming in all the time, Jess.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie could see that well enough. She shrank +from creating a panic aboard the yacht, realizing +fully what a terrible thing a fire at sea can be. If +this hovering fog of smoke meant nothing serious, +their outcry for help at the stateroom window +would create trouble—maybe serious trouble. +Jessie had the right idea, if she could but carry it +out—to tell the sailing master of the yacht, and +only him. +</p> +<p> +The brass knob seemed as firmly fixed in place +as though it had never been moved since it came +from the shop. Jessie, at last, came away from it. +She peered out of the small window. If she could +only catch the skipper’s eye! +</p> +<p> +But she could not. At that moment there was +not a soul in sight from the window. She saw sea +and sky, and that was all. +</p> +<p> +“Oh dear, Jess!” murmured Nell Stanley, at +last giving way to fear. “What shall we do? +We’ll be burned up in here!” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t talk so, Nell!” commanded Jessie. “Do +you want to scare me to death?” +</p> +<p> +“It’s enough to scare anybody to death,” proclaimed +the minister’s daughter. “I’m going to +scream for father.” +</p> +<p> +“You’ll do nothing of the kind!” her friend +declared. “Shrieking about this will do no good, +and may do harm. Can’t you see——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +</p> +<p> +“Not much, with all this smoke in my eyes,” +grumbled Nell. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be a goose! If we yell, everybody will +come running, and will get excited when they see +the smoke.” +</p> +<p> +“But, Jess,” Nell said very sensibly, “all the +time we delay the fire is gathering headway.” +</p> +<p> +“If it <em>is</em> a fire.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness me! Where there’s so much smoke +there must be fire. How you talk!” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t want to be shown up as a ‘fraid cat and +a killjoy,” cried Jessie. “The boys are always +laughing at us, anyway, because we get scared at +little things: mice, and falling overboard, and a +puff of wind. I am deadly sick of hearing: ‘Isn’t +that just like a girl?’ So there!” +</p> +<p> +“Well, for pity’s sake!” gasped the clergyman’s +daughter. “That is just like a girl! Afraid of +what boys will say of one! Not me!” +</p> +<p> +“Girls ought to be just as fearless as boys, and +have as much initiative. Now, Nell Stanley, suppose +Darry and Burd were shut up in this stateroom +under these circumstances. What do you +suppose they would do?” +</p> +<p> +Nell laughed aloud, serious as the situation was. +“I guess Burd would put his head out of that window +and bawl for help.” +</p> +<p> +“Darry wouldn’t,” declared Jessie, firmly. “He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +would know what to do. He would realize that it +would not do to start a panic.” +</p> +<p> +“But if the door has been locked on us?” +</p> +<p> +“Darry would know what to do with that old +lock. He’d—he’d find a way. Find out what the +matter with it was.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie sprang at the door again. She stooped +down and looked at the under side of the brass +lock. Then she uttered a shrill squeal of delight. +</p> +<p> +“What is it now?” gasped Nell. +</p> +<p> +“I’ve got it! There is a snap here that holds +the knob so you can’t turn it! I must have snapped +it when I came in!” She jerked the door open and +ran. “Come on, Nell!” +</p> +<p> +“Well, of all things!” gasped her friend. +</p> +<p> +But she followed her friend out of the stateroom. +They ran as well as they could through +the cabin and got out upon the open deck. Skipper +Pandrick, in glistening oilskins and sou’wester +was far aft with his glasses to his eyes. He was +watching a dark spot upon the stormy horizon +that might have been steamer smoke, or a gathering +storm cloud. +</p> +<p> +The girls ran up to him, but Jessie pulled Nell’s +sleeve to admonish her to say nothing that might +be overheard by the other passengers. +</p> +<p> +“What’s doing, young ladies?” asked the skipper, +curiously, seeing their flushed and excited +faces. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +</p> +<p> +“Will—will you come below—to our stateroom—for +a moment, Mr. Pandrick?” stammered +Jessie. “There is something we want to show +you. It is really something serious. Please come +below at once.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span><a name='chXXI' id='chXXI'></a>CHAPTER XXI—WORK FOR ALL</h2> +<p> +The skipper looked rather queerly at the +two excited girls, but he went below with +them without further objection. In fact, +Skipper Pandrick was a man of very few words; +he proved this when Nell opened the stateroom +door and he saw the smoke swirling about the +apartment. +</p> +<p> +“I reckon you girls ain’t been smoking in here,” +he said grimly. “Then I reckon that smoke +comes from below.” +</p> +<p> +“Is the ship really on fire?” gasped Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“Something’s afire, sure as you’re a foot high,” +said the skipper vigorously, and stormed out of +the stateroom and out of the cabin. +</p> +<p> +There was a hatch in the main deck amidships. +He called two of the men and had it raised. The +passengers as yet had no idea that anything was +wrong, for Jessie and Nell kept away from them. +</p> +<p> +But they watched what the skipper did. He +had brought an electric pocket torch from below +and he flashed this before him as he descended +the iron ladder into the hold. Almost at once, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +however, a whiff of smoke rose through the open +hatchway. +</p> +<p> +“Glory be, Tom!” said one sailor to his mate. +“What do you make of that?” +</p> +<p> +“You can’t make nothing of smoke, <em>but</em> smoke,” +returned the other man. “It’s just as useless as +a pig’s squeal is to the butcher.” +</p> +<p> +But Jessie believed that the incident called for +no humor. If there was a fire below—— +</p> +<p> +“Hi, you boys!” came the muffled voice of Skipper +Pandrick from below, “couple on the pump-line +and send the nozzle end below. There’s +something here, sure enough.” +</p> +<p> +As he said this another balloon of smoke floated +up through the open hatch. It was seen from the +station of the passengers. Darry jumped up and +ran to the hatchway. +</p> +<p> +“What’s he doing? Smoking down there?” +he demanded. +</p> +<p> +“It’s sure a bad cigar, boss, if he’s smoking it,” +said one of the men, grinning. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Darry!” gasped Jessie. “The yacht is +on fire!” +</p> +<p> +“Nonsense!” exclaimed the young man, rather +impolitely it must be confessed. +</p> +<p> +He started to descend into the hold. The skipper’s +voice rose out of it: +</p> +<p> +“Get away from there! This ain’t any place +for you, Mr. Darry. Hustle that pipe-line.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span> +</p> +<p> +“Is it serious, Skipper?” demanded the young +collegian, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know how bad it is yet. Tell the helmsman +to head nor’east. Maybe we’d better make +for some anchorage, after all.” +</p> +<p> +Darry ran to the wheelhouse. The other passengers +began to get excited. Nell ran to her +father and told him what she had first discovered. +</p> +<p> +“Well, having discovered the fire in time, undoubtedly +they will be able to put it out,” said +Dr. Stanley, comfortingly. +</p> +<p> +But this did not prove to be easy. Skipper +Pandrick had to come up after a while for a breath +of cool air and to remove his oilskins. Darry and +Burd got into overalls and helped in handling the +hose. The steam needed to work the pump, however, +brought the engines down to a very slow +movement. The <em>Marigold</em> scarcely kept her headway. +</p> +<p> +The fire, which had undoubtedly been smouldering +a long time, was obstinate. The water the +skipper and his helpers poured upon it raised the +level of water in the bilge until Darry declared +he feared the yacht would be water-logged. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile the wind grew in savageness. Instead +of being gusty, it blew more and more +violently out of the northeast. When the helmsman +tried to head into it, under the skipper’s relayed +instructions by Darry, the lack of steam +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +kept the old <em>Marigold</em> marking time instead of +forging ahead. +</p> +<p> +“If we have to put the steam to the pump to +clear the bilge after this,” grumbled the pessimistic +Burd, “we’ll never reach any shelter. Might +as well run for the Bermudas.” +</p> +<p> +“Won’t that be fine!” cried Amy. “I have +always wanted to go to the Bermudas, and we’ve +never gone.” +</p> +<p> +“Fine girl, you,” retorted Burd. “You don’t +know when you are in danger.” +</p> +<p> +“Fire’s out!” announced Amy. “The skipper +says so. And I am not afraid of a capful of +wind.” +</p> +<p> +There was more danger, however, than the +girls imagined. The water that had been poured +into the yacht’s hold did not make her any more +seaworthy. It was necessary to start the pump +to try to clear the hold. +</p> +<p> +The clapperty-clap; clapperty-clap! of the +pump and the water swishing across the deck to be +vomited out of the hawse holes was nothing to +add to the passengers’ feelings of confidence. Besides, +the water came very clear, and at its appearance +the skipper looked doleful. +</p> +<p> +“What’s the matter, Skipper?” asked Darry, +seeing quickly that something was still troubling +the old man. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +</p> +<p> +“Why, Mr. Darry, that don’t look good to me, +and that’s a fact,” the sailing master said. +</p> +<p> +“Why not? The pump is clearing her fast.” +</p> +<p> +“Is it?” grumbled Pandrick, shaking his head. +</p> +<p> +“Of course it is!” exclaimed Darry, with some +exasperation. “Don’t be an Old Man of the +Sea.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s exactly what I am, Mr. Darry,” said +the skipper. “I’m so old a hand at sea that I’m +always looking for trouble. I confess it. And I +see trouble—and work for all hands—right here.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean?” asked Jessie, who +chanced to be by. “The pump works all right just +as Darry says, doesn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +“But, by gorry!” ejaculated the skipper, “it +looks as though we were just pumping the whole +Atlantic through her seams.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness! What do you mean?” Jessie demanded. +</p> +<p> +“You think she is leaking?” asked Darry, in +some trouble. +</p> +<p> +“Bilge ain’t clean water like that,” answered +Pandrick. “That’s as clear as the sea itself. +Mind you! I don’t say she leaks more’n enough +to keep her sweet. But if those pumps don’t suck +purt’ soon, I shall have my suspicions.” +</p> +<p> +“Darry!” ejaculated Jessie, “your yacht is falling +apart. What are we going to do?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t believe it,” muttered Darry. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +</p> +<p> +He had, however, to admit it after a time. It +seemed as though the <em>Marigold</em> were suffering +one misfortune after another. The fire, which +might have been very serious, was extinguished; +but the yacht lay deep in the troubled sea, rolling +heavily, and the water pumped through the pipe +was plainly seeping in through the seams of her +hull. +</p> +<p> +“Goodness me! shall we have to take to the +boat and the life raft?” demanded Amy. +</p> +<p> +It was scarcely possible to joke much about the +situation. Even Amy Drew’s “famous line of +light conversation” could not keep up their spirits. +</p> +<p> +The wind continued to blow harder and harder. +The yacht could no longer head into it. Dr. Stanley +looked grave. Nell, first frightened by her +discovery of the fire in the hold, was now in tears. +</p> +<p> +To add to the seriousness of the situation, there +was not another vessel in sight. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span><a name='chXXII' id='chXXII'></a>CHAPTER XXII—A RADIO CALL THAT FAILED</h2> +<p> +“Of course,” Amy said composedly, “if +worse comes to worst, we can send the +news by radio that the yacht is sinking +and bring to our rescue somebody—somebody——” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, we can!” exclaimed Burd Alling. “A +revenue cutter, I suppose? Don’t you suppose +the United States Government has anything better +to do than to look out for people who don’t +know enough to look out for themselves?” +</p> +<p> +“That seems to be the Government’s mission +a good deal of the time,” replied Dr. Stanley, +with a smile. “But you don’t think it will be +necessary to call for help, do you, Darrington?” +he asked the sober-looking owner of the yacht. +</p> +<p> +“Well, the fire’s out, that’s sure——” +</p> +<p> +“You bet it is!” growled Burd. “It had to be +out, there’s so much water in the hold.” +</p> +<p> +“But we are not sinking!” cried Amy. +</p> +<p> +“Lucky we’re not,” said Burd. “The radio +doesn’t work.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, how you talk,” Nell said admonishingly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span> +“You would scare us if we did not know you so +well, Burd.” +</p> +<p> +“You don’t know the half of it!” exclaimed +the young fellow. “Fuel is getting low, too. +Skipper wants us to work the pump by hand. That +means Darry and me to ‘man the pumps.’” +</p> +<p> +“And we can help,” said Jessie, cheerfully. “If +the skipper thinks he needs to make more steam +for the engines, why can’t we all take turns at +the pump?” +</p> +<p> +“Sounds like a real shipwreck story,” her chum +observed, but doubtfully. +</p> +<p> +“It will cause a mutiny,” declared Burd. “I +didn’t ship on the <em>Marigold</em> to work like Old +Bowser on the treadmill. And that is about how +I feel.” +</p> +<p> +“You can get out and walk if you don’t like it,” +Darry reminded him. +</p> +<p> +“And I suppose you think I wouldn’t. For two +cents——” +</p> +<p> +Just then the yacht pitched sharply and Burd +almost lost his footing. The waves were really +boisterous and occasionally a squall of rain +swooped down and, with the spray, wet the entire +deck and those upon it. +</p> +<p> +Jessie was not greatly afraid of the elements +or of what they could do to the yacht. But she +was made anxious by the repetition of the statement +that the radio was out of order. Originally +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +the <em>Marigold</em> had had a small wireless plant, with +storage batteries. Signals by Morse could be exchanged +with other ships and with stations ashore +within a limited distance. +</p> +<p> +But when Darry had bought the radio receiving +set he had disconnected the broadcasting machine +and linked up the regenerative circuit with the +stationary batteries. As he had explained to Jessie, +both systems could not be used at once. +</p> +<p> +They had found that neither the receiving set +nor the old wireless set worked well. It looked +as though the boys had overlooked something in +rigging the new set and the radio girls quite +realized that in this emergency a general and perhaps +a thorough overhauling of the wires and +connections would be necessary to discover just +where the fault lay. +</p> +<p> +Jessie called Amy, and they went up into the +little wireless room behind the wheelhouse where +everything about the plant but the batteries were +in place. This was a very different outfit from +that in the great station at the old lighthouse on +Station Island, which they had visited several +days before. +</p> +<p> +“If we only knew as much as that operator does +about wireless,” sighed Jessie to her chum, “there +might be some hope of our untangling all this and +finding out the trouble.” +</p> +<p> +“He said he had been five years at it and didn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span> +know so very much,” Amy reminded her dryly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, there will always be something new to +learn about radio, of course,” her chum agreed. +“But if we had his training in the fundamentals +of radio, we would be equipped to handle such a +mess as this. To tell you the truth, Amy, I think +these two boys have made a cat’s cradle of this +thing.” +</p> +<p> +“And Darry spent more than a year aboard a +destroyer and was trained to ‘listen in’ for submarines +and all that!” +</p> +<p> +“An entirely different thing from knowing how +to rig wireless,” commented Jessie, getting down +on her knees to look under the shelf to which the +posts were screwed. “Oh, dear!” she added, as +she bumped her head. “I wish this boat wouldn’t +pitch so.” +</p> +<p> +“So say we all of us. What can I do, Jess?” +</p> +<p> +“Not a thing—for a moment. Let me see: +The general rules of radio are easily remembered. +The incoming oscillations that have been intercepted +by the antenna above the roof of the house +are applied across the grid and filament of the +detector tube——” +</p> +<p> +“That’s this jigger here,” put in Amy, as Jessie +struggled up again. +</p> +<p> +“Yes. That is the tube. Through the relay +action of the tube, an amplified current flows +through the plate circuit—<em>here</em>. Now,” added +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +Jessie thoughtfully, “if we couple this plate circuit +back—No! This is a simple circuit. It is like +our old one, Amy. We can’t get much action out +of this set. It is not like the new one we are +putting in the bungalow.“ +</p> +<p> +“Well, the thing is, can we use it?” Amy demanded. +“Can you link the power, or whatever +you call it, up with the sending paraphernalia and +get an S O S over the water?” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness, Amy! Don’t talk as though you +thought we were really in danger.” +</p> +<p> +“Humph! I see the Reverend, as Nell calls him, +out there with his coat off, in his shirt-sleeves, +taking a turn with Burd at the pumps. They +have rigged it for man power and are saving +steam for the engines.” +</p> +<p> +“Let me see!” cried Jessie, peering out of the +clouded window too. “You’d never think he was +a minister. Isn’t he nice?” +</p> +<p> +Amy began to laugh. “Are all ministers supposed +to be such terrible people?” +</p> +<p> +“No-o,” admitted Jessie, going back to the +radio set. “But good as they usually are, we +have the very best minister at the Roselawn +Church, of any.” +</p> +<p> +“Yep. So we must plan to save him if anything +happens,” giggled Amy. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s open the switch and see if we can get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +anything,” her chum said reflectively, picking up +the head harness. +</p> +<p> +“You mean <em>hear</em> if we can get anything,” corrected +Amy. +</p> +<p> +“Never mind splitting hairs, my dear. Is that +the switch? Yes. Now!” +</p> +<p> +She put on the rigging, but all she got out of +the air, as she sadly confessed, were sounds like +an angry cat spitting at a puppydog. +</p> +<p> +“It isn’t just static,” she told Amy. “You try +it. There is something absolutely wrong with +this thing. See! We don’t get a spark.” +</p> +<p> +“If we did we couldn’t read the letters.” +</p> +<p> +“I believe I could read some Morse if it came +slowly enough,” said Jessie, nodding. “But it is +sending, not receiving, I am thinking of, Amy +Drew.” +</p> +<p> +Amy began to look more serious. Jessie was +harping on a possibility she did not wish to admit +was probable. She went out and, hunting up +Darry, demanded to know just how bad he thought +they were off, anyway. +</p> +<p> +“Well, Sis, there is no use making a wry face +about it,” the collegian said. “But you see how +hard the Reverend and Burd are working, and +they can’t keep ahead of the water. The poor old +<em>Marigold</em> really is leaking.” +</p> +<p> +“Is she going to sink? Can’t we get to land—somewhere? +Can’t we go back to the island?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span> +</p> +<p> +“Shucks, Sis! You know we are miles from +Station Island. We are off Montauk—or we were +this morning. But we are heading out to sea now—sou’-sou’east. +Can’t head into this gale. She +pitches too much.” +</p> +<p> +“And—and isn’t there any help for us, Darry +Drew?” +</p> +<p> +“We don’t need any help yet, do we?” he demanded +pluckily. “She is making good weather +of it——” +</p> +<p> +Just then the yacht rolled so that he had to +grab the rail with one hand and Amy with the +other, and both of them were well shaken up. +</p> +<p> +“Woof!” gasped Darry, as they came out of +the smother of spray. +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” exploded Amy. “I swallowed a pail of +water that time. Ugh! How bitter the sea is. +Now, Darry, I guess we’ll have to send out signals, +sha’n’t we?” +</p> +<p> +“How can we? I’ve tried the old radio already. +She is as dumb as the proverbial oyster +with the lockjaw.” +</p> +<p> +“Jessie is going to fix it,” said Amy, with some +confidence. +</p> +<p> +“Yes she is! She’s some smart girl, I admit,” +her brother observed. “But I guess that is a job +that will take an expert.” +</p> +<p> +“You just see!” cried Amy. “You think she +can’t do anything because she’s a girl.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span> +</p> +<p> +“Bless you! Girls equal the men nowadays. +I hold Jessie as little less than a wonder. But if +a thing can’t be done——” +</p> +<p> +“That is what you think because you tried it +and failed.” +</p> +<p> +“Huh!” +</p> +<p> +“We radio girls will show you!” declared Amy, +her head up and preparing to march back to her +chum the next time the deck became steady. +</p> +<p> +But when she started so proudly the yacht +rolled unexpectedly and Amy, screaming for help, +went sliding along the deck to where Dr. Stanley +and Burd were pumping away to clear the bilge. +She was saturated—and much meeker in deportment—when +Burd fished her out of the scuppers. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span><a name='chXXIII' id='chXXIII'></a>CHAPTER XXIII—ONLY HOPE</h2> +<p> +The condition of the <em>Marigold</em> was actually +much more serious than the Roselawn girls +at first supposed. Jessie and Amy were +so busy in the radio house for a couple of hours +and were so interested in what they were doing +that they failed to observe that the hull of the +yacht was slowly sinking. +</p> +<p> +Fortunately the wind decreased after a while; +but by that time it was scarcely safe to head the +yacht into the wind’s eye, as the skipper called it. +She wallowed in the big seas in a most unpleasant +way and it was fortunate indeed that all the passengers +were good sailors. +</p> +<p> +Nell came and looked into the radio room once +or twice; then she felt so bad that she went below +to lie down. The doctor worked as hard as any +man aboard. And his cheerfulness was always +infectious. +</p> +<p> +The minister knew that they were in peril. He +would have been glad to see a rescuing vessel +heave into sight. But he gave no sign that he considered +the situation at all uncertain or perilous in +the least. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span> +</p> +<p> +The afternoon was passing. Another night on +the open sea without knowing if the yacht would +weather the conditions, was a matter for grave +consideration. The doctor and Darry conferred +with Skipper Pandrick. +</p> +<p> +“’Tis hard to say,” the sailing master observed. +“There is no knowing what may happen. If the +yacht was not so water-logged we might get in +under our own steam——” +</p> +<p> +“But we can’t make steam enough!” cried +Darry. +</p> +<p> +“Well, no, we don’t seem to,” admitted the +skipper. +</p> +<p> +“And to what port would you sail?” asked Dr. +Stanley. +</p> +<p> +“Well, now, there’s not any handy just now, +I admit. If we head back for the land we may be +thrown on our beam-ends, I will say. The waves +are big ones, as you see.” +</p> +<p> +“You are not very encouraging, Skipper,” said +the minister. +</p> +<p> +“I wouldn’t be raising any false hopes in your +mind, sir,” said Pandrick. +</p> +<p> +“You’re a jolly old wet blanket, you are,” declared +Darry to the sailing master. “What shall +we do?” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll have to take what comes to us,” declared +the skipper. +</p> +<p> +“You are a fatalist, Mr. Pandrick,” said the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +minister, and Darry was glad to hear him laugh +cheerily. +</p> +<p> +“No, sir. I’m a Universalist,” declared the +seaman. “And I’ve all the hope in the world that +we’ll come out of this all right.” +</p> +<p> +“But can’t we do something to help ourselves?” +demanded the exasperated Darry. +</p> +<p> +“Not much that I know of. Here’s hoping the +wind goes down and we have calm weather and +see the sun again.” +</p> +<p> +“Hope all you like,” growled the young fellow. +“I am going to see if the girls aren’t able to bring +something to pass with that radio.” +</p> +<p> +He found his sister and Jessie rearranging a +part of the circuit on the set-board. They were +very much in earnest. Thus far, however, they +had been unable to get a clear signal out of the +air, nor could they send one. +</p> +<p> +“If we could reach another vessel, or a shore +station, and tell them where the yacht is and that +she is leaking, we’d be all right, shouldn’t we, +Darry?” Jessie asked earnestly. +</p> +<p> +“But I am not at all sure we need help,” he +said, in doubt. +</p> +<p> +“We may need it!” exclaimed his sister. +</p> +<p> +“Why—yes, we may,” he admitted, though +rather grudgingly. +</p> +<p> +“Then we want to get this fixed,” Jessie declared. +“But there is something wrong here. Do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +you see this Darry? It seems to me that there +must be a part missing. When you and Burd set +this up are you sure you followed the instructions +of the book in every particular?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course we did,” Darry said. +</p> +<p> +“Of course we didn’t!” exclaimed Burd’s voice +from the doorway. +</p> +<p> +“What are you saying?” demanded his friend, +promptly. +</p> +<p> +“What I know. Don’t you remember that you +lost the instruction book overboard sometime +there, when we were getting the bothersome thing +fixed?” +</p> +<p> +“So I did,” confessed Darry. “But, say! she +was all right then.” +</p> +<p> +“She hasn’t ever been all right,” accused his +chum, “and you know it.” +</p> +<p> +“We sent code signals by the old machine, all +right.” +</p> +<p> +“But we’ve never been able to since we linked +it up with this receiving set, and you know it,” +said Burd. +</p> +<p> +“It sounds to me,” said Amy, “as though +neither one of you boys knew so awfully much +about it.” +</p> +<p> +“I know one thing,” said Jessie, with determination. +“All the parts are not here. These connections +are not like any I ever saw before. It +is a mystery to me——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +</p> +<p> +“Hold on!” exclaimed Darry Drew suddenly. +“What did we do with all those little cardboard +boxes and paper tubes the parts came in? Couldn’t +be we overlooked anything, Burd?” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t try to hang it on me!” exclaimed his +chum. “I never claimed to know a thing about +radio. You were the Big Noise when we put the +contraption together.” +</p> +<p> +“Aw, you! Where did we put the things left +over?” +</p> +<p> +“There he goes!” exclaimed the confirmed +joker. “He’s like the fellow who took the automobile +apart to fix it and had a bushel of parts +left over when he was done. He doesn’t +know——” +</p> +<p> +“Beat it out of here,” roared Darry, “and find +that box we put the stuff into. <em>You</em> know.” +</p> +<p> +Dr. Stanley came up to the radio room while +Burd was searching for the rubbish box. The +clergyman spoke cheerfully, but he looked very +grave. +</p> +<p> +“Is there any likelihood of our being able to +send out a call for assistance, Jessie?” he asked, +quietly. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t see how we can, Doctor Stanley, until +we fix this radio set. We can’t get any spark. +We have to be able to get a spark to send a +message. The message will be stumbling enough, +I am afraid, even if we fix the thing, for none of us +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +understands Morse very well. Unless Darry——” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t look to me for help,” declared the collegian. +“I haven’t sent a message since we put +the yacht in commission. We had a fellow aboard +here until the other day who knew something +about wireless and he was the operator. Not +me.” +</p> +<p> +“Amy and I have a code book with the alphabet +in it,” said Jessie slowly. “I think if somebody +read the dots and dashes to me I could send a +short message. But there is something wrong +with this circuit.” +</p> +<p> +Just then Burd Alling came back. He brought +with him a big corrugated cardboard container. +In that the various parts of the radio outfit had +been packed. +</p> +<p> +“What do you think about it?” he asked. +“There <em>is</em> something here that I never saw before. +See this jigamarig, Jess? Think it belongs on +the contraption?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” cried Jessie, eagerly, pouncing on the +small object that Burd held out to her. “I know +what that is.” +</p> +<p> +“Then you beat me. I don’t,” declared Burd. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s see what else there is,” said Darry, diving +into the box. “I left you to get out the parts, +Burd; you know I did.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, splash!” exclaimed his friend. “We +might as well admit that we don’t know as much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +about radio as these girls. They leave us lashed +to the post.” +</p> +<p> +But Jessie and Amy did not even feel what at +another time Amy would have called “augmented +ego.” The occasion was too serious. +</p> +<p> +The day was passing into evening, and a very +solemn evening it was. The wind whined through +the strands of the wire rigging. The waves +knocked the yacht about. The passengers all felt +weary and forlorn. +</p> +<p> +The two girl chums felt the situation less acutely +than anybody else, perhaps, because they were so +busy. That radio had to be repaired. That is +what Jessie told Amy, and Amy agreed. The +safety of the whole yacht’s company seemed dependent +upon what the two radio girls could do. +</p> +<p> +“And we must not fall down on it, Jess,” Amy +said vigorously. “How goes it now?” +</p> +<p> +“This thing that Burd found goes right in here. +We have got to reset a good part of the circuit to +do it. I don’t see how the boys could have made +such a mistake.” +</p> +<p> +“Proves what I have always maintained,” declared +Amy Drew. “We girls are smarter than +those boys, even if the said boys do go to college. +Bah! What is college, anyway?” +</p> +<p> +“Just a prison,” said Burd sepulchrally from +the doorway. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span> +</p> +<p> +“Close that door!” exclaimed Jessie. “Don’t +let that spray drift in here.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. Do go away, Burd, and see if the yacht +is sinking any more. Don’t bother us,” commanded +Amy. +</p> +<p> +The men were keeping the pumps at work, but +it was an anxious time. It was long dark and the +lamps were lighted when Jessie pronounced the +set complete. Darry and Burd came in again +and asked what they could do? +</p> +<p> +“Root for us. Nothing more,” said Amy. +“Jessie has fixed this thing and she is going to have +the honor of sending the message—if a message +can be sent.“ +</p> +<p> +“Well,” remarked Burd Alling, “I guess it is +up to you girls to save the situation. I have just +found out that there isn’t as much provender as +I was given reason to believe when we started. +We ought to be in Boston right now. And see +where we are!” +</p> +<p> +“That is exactly what we can’t see,” said Jessie. +“But we must know. Did you get the latitude and +longitude from the skipper, Darry?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. Here it is, approximately. He got a +chance to shoot the sun this noon.” +</p> +<p> +“The cruel thing!” gibed his sister. “But anyway, +I hope he has got the situation near enough +so some vessel can find us.” +</p> +<p> +“Let us see, first, if we can send a message +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +intelligibly,” said Jessie, putting on the head harness, +and speaking seriously. “It will be awful, +perhaps, if we can’t. I know that the yacht is +almost unmanageable.” +</p> +<p> +“You’ve said something,” returned Burd. “The +fuel is low, as well as the supplies in the galley. +We haven’t got much left——” +</p> +<p> +“But hope,” said Jessie, softly. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span><a name='chXXIV' id='chXXIV'></a>CHAPTER XXIV—THE MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE</h2> +<p> +Henrietta Haney was a very lonely +little girl after the yacht sailed from +Station Island. Not that she had nobody +to play with, for she had. There were other +children besides Sally Stanley of her own age, +or thereabout, in the bungalow colony. And as +she had been in Dogtown, Henrietta soon became +the leading spirit of her crowd. +</p> +<p> +She even taught them some of her games, and +once more became “Spotted Snake, the Witch,” +and scared some of the children almost as much +as she had scared the Dogtown youngsters with +her supposed occult powers. +</p> +<p> +She was running and screaming and tearing her +clothes most of the time when she was away from +Mrs. Norwood, but in the company of Jessie’s +mother she truly tried to “be a little lady.” +</p> +<p> +“Be it ever so painful, little Hen is going to +learn to be worthy of you and Jessie, Mary,” +laughed Mrs. Drew, who was like her daughter +in being able always to see the fun in things. +“What do you really expect will come of the +child?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +</p> +<p> +“I think she will make quite a woman in time. +And before that time arrives,” added Mrs. Norwood, +“she has much to learn, as you say. In +some ways Henrietta has had an unhappy childhood—although +she doesn’t know it. I hope she +will have better times from now on.” +</p> +<p> +“You are sure to make her have good times, +Mary,” said Mrs. Drew. “I hope she will appreciate +all that Jessie and you do for her.” +</p> +<p> +“She is rather young for one to expect appreciation +from her,” Mrs. Norwood said, smiling. +“But the little thing is grateful.” +</p> +<p> +Without Jessie and Amy, however, Henrietta +confessed she was very lonely. Sometimes she +listened to the radio all alone, sitting quietly and +hearing even lectures and business talks out of the +air that ordinarily could not have interested the +child. But she said it reminded her of “Miss +Jessie” just to sit with the ear-tabs on. +</p> +<p> +She had heard about the older girls going to +the lighthouse station to interview the wireless +operator there, and although Henrietta knew +that the government reservation at that end of +the island was no part of the old Padriac Haney +estate, she wandered down there alone on the +second day of the yacht’s absence and climbed up +into the tower. +</p> +<p> +The storm had blown itself out on shore, and +the sun was going down in golden glory. Out at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +sea, although the waves still rolled high and the +clouds were tumultuous in appearance, there was +nothing to threaten a continuation of the unsettled +weather. +</p> +<p> +Henrietta had no idea how long it would be +before the yacht reached Boston, although she had +heard a good deal of talk about it. She had +watched the <em>Marigold</em> steam out of sight into the +east, and it seemed to the little girl that her friends +were just there, beyond the horizon line, where she +had seen the last patch of the <em>Marigold’s</em> smoke +disappear. +</p> +<p> +The wireless operator had seen Henrietta before, +cavorting about the beach and leading the +other children in their play, and he was prepared +for some of her oddities. But she surprised him +by her very first speech. +</p> +<p> +“You’re the man that can send words out over +the ocean, aren’t you?” +</p> +<p> +“I can send signals,” he admitted, but rather +puzzled. +</p> +<p> +“Can folks like Miss Jessie and Miss Amy hear +’em?” demanded Henrietta. +</p> +<p> +“Only if they are on a boat that has a wireless +outfit.” +</p> +<p> +“They got it on that <em>Marigold</em>,” announced +Henrietta. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! The yacht that sailed yesterday! Yes, +she carried antenna.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span> +</p> +<p> +“And she carried Doctor Stanley and Miss Nell +Stanley, too, besides the boys, Mr. Darry and +Mr. Burd,” said Henrietta. “Then they can hear +you?” +</p> +<p> +“If they know how to use the wireless they +could catch a signal from this station.” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Jessie knows all about radio,” said Henrietta. +“She made it.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, she did?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. She made it all up. She and Miss Amy +built them one at Roselawn. That was before +Montmorency Shannon built his. Well, Miss Jessie +is out there on the <em>Marigold</em>.” +</p> +<p> +“So I understand,” said the much amused operator. +</p> +<p> +“I wish you would—please—send her word +that I’d like to have her come back to my island.” +</p> +<p> +“Are you the little girl who owns this island? +I’ve heard about you.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. But there ain’t much fun on an island +if your friends aren’t on it, too. And Miss Jessie +is one of my very dearest friends.” +</p> +<p> +“I understand,” said the operator gravely, seeing +the little girl’s lip trembling. “You would +like to have me reach your friend, Miss Jessie——” +</p> +<p> +“Her name’s Norwood, too,” put in Henrietta, +to make sure. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, indeed? She is the lawyer, Mr. Norwood’s +daughter. I have met her.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, sir. She came here once.” +</p> +<p> +“And you wish to send her a message if it is +possible?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, sir. I want you should ask her to get +to Boston as quick as she can and come back +again. We would all like to have her come,” said +the little girl, gravely. +</p> +<p> +“I am going to be on duty myself this evening +and I will try to get your message through,” said +the operator kindly. “The <em>Marigold</em>, is it?” and +he drew the code book toward him in which the +signal for every vessel sailing from American +ports, even pleasure craft, that carries wireless, +is listed. +</p> +<p> +He turned around to his instrument right then +and began to rap out the call for the yacht. He +kept it up, off and on, between his other work, all +the evening. But no answer was returned. +</p> +<p> +The operator began to be somewhat puzzled by +this fact. Knowing how much interested in radio +the girls were who had visited him, he could not +understand why they would not be listening in +at some time or other on the yacht. +</p> +<p> +He kept throwing into the ether the signal +meant for the <em>Marigold’s</em> call until almost midnight, +when he expected to be relieved by his partner. +Towards ten o’clock there was some bothersome +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +signals in the ether that annoyed him whenever +he took a message or relayed one in the course +of the evening’s business. +</p> +<p> +“Some amateur op. is interfering,” was his expression. +“But, I declare! it does sound something +like this station call. Can it be——?” +</p> +<p> +He lengthened his spark and sent thundering +out on the air-waves his usual reply: +“I, I, OKW. I, I, OKW.” +</p> +<p> +Then he held his hand and waited for any return. +The same mysterious, scraping sounds continued. +A slow hand, he believed, was trying to +spell out some message in Morse. But it was +being done in a very fumbling manner. +</p> +<p> +Of course, half a dozen shore stations and perhaps +half a hundred vessels might have caught the +clumsy message, as well. But the operator at +Station Island, interested by little Henrietta in +the <em>Marigold</em> and her company, felt more than +puzzlement over this strange communication out +of the air. +</p> +<p> +“Listen in here, Sammy,” he said to his mate, +when the latter came in. “Is it just somebody’s +squeak-box making trouble to-night or am I hearing +a sure-enough S O S? I wonder if there is a +storm at sea?” +</p> +<p> +“There is,” said his mate, sitting down on the +bench and taking up the secondary head harness. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +“The evening papers are full of it. Northeast +gale, and blowing like kildee right now.” +</p> +<p> +“Arlington gave no particulars at last announcement.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t make any difference. The boats outside +know it. Hullo! What’s this? ‘S-t-a-t-i-o-n +I-s-l-a-n-d.’ What’s the joke? Somebody calling +us without using the code letters?” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t know ’em, maybe,” said the chief operator. +“Set down what you get and see if it is like +mine.” +</p> +<p> +The other did so. They compared notes. That +strange message set both operators actively to +work. One began swiftly to distribute over the +Eastern Atlantic the news that a craft needed help +in such and such a latitude and longitude. The +other operator, without his hat, ran all the way to +the bungalows to give Mr. Norwood and Mr. +Drew some very serious news. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span><a name='chXXV' id='chXXV'></a>CHAPTER XXV—SAVED BY RADIO</h2> +<p> +Jessie Norwood was not tireless. It +seemed to her as though her right arm would +drop off, she pressed the key of the wireless +instrument so frequently. They had written out +a brief call of distress, and finally she got it by +heart so that Amy did not have to read her the +dots and dashes. +</p> +<p> +But it was a slow process and they had no way +of learning if the message was caught and understood +by any operator, either ashore or on board +a vessel. Hour after hour went slowly by. The +<em>Marigold</em> was sinking. The pumps could not +keep up with the incoming water; the fuel was +almost exhausted and the engines scarcely turned +over; the buffeting seas threatened the craft every +minute. +</p> +<p> +Dr. Stanley remained outwardly cheerful. +Darry and the others took heart from the clergyman’s +words. +</p> +<p> +“Tell you what,” said Burd. “If we are wrecked +on a desert island I shall be glad to have the doctor +along. He’d have cheered up old Robinson +Crusoe.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +</p> +<p> +As the evening waned and the sea continued to +pound the hull of the laboring yacht the older +people aboard, at least, grew more anxious. The +young folks in the radio room chattered briskly, +although Jessie called them to account once in a +while because they made so much noise she could +not be sure that she was sending correctly. +</p> +<p> +Darry tried to relieve her at the key, but he +confessed that he “made a mess of it.” The radio +girls had spent more time and effort in learning +to handle the wireless than the collegians—both +Darry and Burd acknowledged it. +</p> +<p> +“These are some girls!” Darry said, admiringly. +</p> +<p> +“You spoil ’em,” complained Burd Ailing. +“Want to be careful what you say to them.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, if anybody can stand a little praise it is +Jess and I,” declared Amy, sighing with weariness. +</p> +<p> +Nobody cared to turn in. The situation was +too uncertain. The boys could be with the girls +only occasionally, for they had to take their turn +at the pumps. It had come to pass that nothing +but steady pumping kept the yacht from sinking. +They were all thankful that the wind decreased +and the waves grew less boisterous. +</p> +<p> +Towards midnight it was quite calm, only the +swells lifted the water-logged yacht in a rhythmic +motion that finally became unpleasant. Nell was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +ill, below; but the others remained on deck and +managed to weather the nauseating effects of the +heaving sea. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, as often as she could, Jessie Norwood +sent out into the air the cry for assistance. +She sent it addressed to “Station Island,” for she +did not know that each wireless station had a code +signal—a combination of letters. But she knew +there was but one Station Island off the coast. +</p> +<p> +The clapperty-clap, clapperty-clap of the pumps +rasped their nerves at last until, as Amy declared, +they needed to scream! When the sound stopped +for the minute while pump-crews were changed, +it was a relief. +</p> +<p> +And finally the spark of the wireless began to +skip and fall dead. Good reason! The storage +batteries, although very good ones, were beginning +to fail. Before daybreak it was impossible to use +the sender any more. +</p> +<p> +Somehow this fact was more depressing than +anything that had previously happened. They +could only hope, in any event, that their message +had been heard and understood; but now even +this sad attempt was halted. +</p> +<p> +Jessie was really too tired to sleep. She and +Amy did not go below for long. They changed +their clothes and came on deck again and were +very glad of the hot cup of coffee Dr. Stanley +brought them from the galley. The cook had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +been set to work on one of the pump crews. +</p> +<p> +The girls sat in the deck chairs and stared off +across the rolling gray waters. There was no +sign of any other vessel just then, but a dim rose +color at the sea line showed where the sun would +come up after a time. +</p> +<p> +“But a fog is blowing up from the south, too,” +said Amy. “See that cloud, Jess? My dear! +Did you ever expect that we would be sitting here +on Darry’s yacht waiting for it to sink under us?” +</p> +<p> +“How can you!” exclaimed Jessie, aghast. +</p> +<p> +“Well, that is practically what we are doing,” +replied her chum. “Thank goodness I have had +this cup of coffee, anyway. It braces me——” +</p> +<p> +“Even for drowning?” asked Jessie. “Oh! +What is that, Amy?” +</p> +<p> +“It’s a boat! It’s a boat! Ship ahoy!” +shrieked Amy, jumping up and dancing about, +dropping the cup and saucer to smash upon the +deck. +</p> +<p> +“It’s a steamboat!” cried Darry Drew, from +the deck above. +</p> +<p> +“Head for it if you can, Bob!” commanded +Skipper Pandrick to the helmsman. +</p> +<p> +But before they could see what kind of craft +the other was, the fog surrounded them. It +wrapped the <em>Marigold</em> around in a thick mantle. +They could not see ten yards from her rail. +</p> +<p> +“We don’t even know if she is looking for us!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +exclaimed Dr. Stanley. “That is too bad—too +bad.” +</p> +<p> +“Whistle for it,” urged Amy. “Can’t we?” +</p> +<p> +“If we use the little steam left for the whistle, +we will have to shut down the engines,” declared +Darry. +</p> +<p> +“This is a fine yacht—I don’t think!” scoffed +Burd Alling. “And none of you knows a thing +about rescuing this boat and crew but me. Watch +me save the yacht.” +</p> +<p> +He marched forward and began to work the +foot-power foghorn vigorously. Its mournful +note (not unlike a cow’s lowing, as Jessie had +said) reverberated through the fog. The sound +must have carried miles upon miles. +</p> +<p> +But it was nearly an hour before they heard any +reply. Then the hoarse, brief blast of a tug +whistle came to their ears. +</p> +<p> +“<em>Marigold</em>, ahoy!” shouted a well-known voice +across the heaving sea. +</p> +<p> +“Daddy!” screamed Jessie, springing up and +dropping <em>her</em> cup and saucer, likewise to utter +ruin. “It’s Daddy Norwood!” +</p> +<p> +The big tug wallowed nearer. She carried +wireless, too, and the <em>Marigold’s</em> company believed, +at once, that Jessie’s message had been +received aboard the <em>Pocahontas</em>. +</p> +<p> +“But—then—how did Daddy Norwood come +aboard of her?” Jessie demanded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span> +</p> +<p> +This was not explained until later when the +six passengers were taken aboard the tug and +hawsers were passed from the sinking yacht to +the very efficient <em>Pocahontas</em>. +</p> +<p> +“And a pretty penny it will cost, so the skipper +says, to get her towed to port,” Darry complained. +</p> +<p> +“Say!” ejaculated Burd, “suppose she didn’t +find us at all and we were paddling around in that +boat and on the life raft? <em>That</em> would take the +permanent wave out of your hair, old grouch!” +</p> +<p> +The girls, however, and Dr. Stanley as well, +begged Mr. Norwood to explain how he had come +in search of the <em>Marigold</em> and had arrived so opportunely. +</p> +<p> +“Nothing easier,” said the lawyer. “When the +operator at the lighthouse station got your +message——” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, bully, Jess! You did it!” cried Amy, +breaking in. +</p> +<p> +“Did you send that message, Jessie?” asked +her father. “Well, I am proud of you. The +operator came to the house and told me. Although +his partner was sending the news of your +predicament broadcast over the sea, he told me of +the tug lying behind the island, and that it could be +chartered. +</p> +<p> +“So,” explained Mr. Norwood, “I left Drew to +fortify the women—and little Henrietta—and +went right over and was rowed out to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +<em>Pocahontas</em> by an old fisherman who said he knew you +girls. I believe he pronounced you ‘cleaners,’ if +you know what that means,” laughed the lawyer. +</p> +<p> +“Henrietta, by the way, was doing incantations +of some sort over the wind and weather when I +left the bungalow. She said ‘Spotted Snake’ could +bring you all safe home.” +</p> +<p> +“Bless her heart!” exclaimed Jessie. +</p> +<p> +That afternoon when the tug worked her way +carefully into the dock near the bungalow colony +on Station Island, Henrietta was the first person +the returned wanderers saw on the shore to greet +them. She was dancing up and down and screaming +something that Jessie and Amy did not catch +until they came off the gangplank. Then they +made the incantation out to be: +</p> +<p> +“That Ringold one can’t have my island—so +now! The court says so, and Mr. Drew says so, +too. He just got it off the telephone and he told +me. It’s my island—so there!” +</p> +<p> +“Why, how glad I am for you, dear!” cried +Jessie, running to hug the excited little girl. +</p> +<p> +“Come ashore! Come ashore! All of you!” +cried Henrietta, with a wide gesture. “I invite +all of you. This is my island, not that Ringold’s. +You can come on it and do anything you like!” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Henrietta!” murmured Jessie, as the +other listeners broke into laughter. “You must +not talk like that. I am glad the courts have given +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +you your father’s property. But remember, there +are other people who have rights, too.” +</p> +<p> +“Say! That Ringold one—and that Moon one—haven’t +any prop’ty on this island, have they?” +Henrietta demanded. +</p> +<p> +“No.” +</p> +<p> +“Then that’s all right,” said the little girl with +satisfaction. “I’ll be good, Miss Jessie; oh, I’ll +be good!” and she hugged her friend again. +</p> +<p> +“And don’t call them ‘that Ringold one’ and +‘that Moon one,’ Henrietta. That is not pretty +nor polite,” admonished Jessie. +</p> +<p> +“All right, if you say so, Miss Jessie. What +you say goes with me. See?” +</p> +<p> +It took some time, after they were at home, for +everything to be talked over and all the mystery +of the radio message to be cleared up. The interested +operator from the lighthouse came over to +congratulate Jessie on what she had done. After +all, aside from the girl’s addressing the station by +name, the message had not been hard to understand. +And considering the faulty construction of +the yacht’s wireless and the weakness of her batteries, +Jessie had done very well indeed. +</p> +<p> +The young people, of course, would have much +to talk about regarding the adventure for days to +come. Especially Darry. When he learned what +he would have to pay for the towing in of the yacht +and what it would cost to put in proper engines +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span> +and calk and paint the hull, he was aghast and +began to figure industriously. +</p> +<p> +“Learning something, aren’t you, Son?” chuckled +Mr. Drew. “Your Uncle Will pretty near +went broke keeping up the <em>Marigold</em>. But I will +help you, for I am getting rather fond of the old +craft, too.” +</p> +<p> +“We all ought to help,” said Mr. Norwood. +“I sha’n’t want you to scrap the boat, Darry, my +boy. I like to think that it was my Jessie saved +her from sinking—and saved you all. To my +mind radio is a great thing—something more than +a toy even for these boys and girls.” +</p> +<p> +“Quite true,” Mr. Drew agreed. “When your +Jessie and my Amy first strung those wires at +Roselawn I thought they were well over it if they +didn’t break their limbs before they got it finished. +When we get back home I think Darry and I would +better put up aerials and have a house-set, too. +What say, Darry?” +</p> +<p> +“I’m with you, Father,” agreed the young collegian. +“But I won’t agree to rival Jess and Amy +as radio experts. For those two girls take the +palm.” +</p> +<p> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p>THE END</p> +</div> +<p> + <br/> + <br/> + <br/> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:1.4em;'>PEGGY STEWART SERIES</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p>By GABRIELLE E. JACKSON</p> +<p> </p> +<p>Peggy Stewart at Home</p> +<p>Peggy Stewart at School</p> +</div> +<p style='margin-left: 4em;margin-right: 4em;'> +Peggy, Polly, Rosalie, Marjorie, Natalie, Isabel, +Stella and Juno—girls all of high spirits make this +Peggy Stewart series one of entrancing interest. +Their friendship, formed in a fashionable eastern +school, they spend happy years crowded with gay +social affairs. The background for these delightful +stories is furnished by Annapolis with its naval +academy and an aristocratic southern estate. +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p> </p> +<p>The Goldsmith Publishing Co.</p> +<p>NEW YORK, N. 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