CHAPTER IVTHE STORM
It was curious. Betty often thought and commented upon it afterwards at home. Sometimes it seems as if in such curious, almost intentional ways, lives cross each other. Yet Betty wondered how she happened to come into the design in this instance. Her father told her that she was just one instrument of Providence, used because she could be of service and was “good in the humanities.”
And who would have thought that here, away off from home on the coast of Maine?—but one must take events in order.
It was in the second week of good times. One night there was a sudden and terrific storm, or so it seemed to Betty. The sea boomed and lashed the shore. Lightning flashed and thunder resounded or crashed with the bolts close at hand. Such small shipping as the village boasted had come hurrying to the protection of the small bay and breakwater.
The girls, rather frightened at first, bravely tried not to show it, though they were wondering whether the boys had gotten in safely from a fishing trip. “Don’t worry,” said Mr. Gwynne. “The sky was lowering about dusk. If they were too far up the coast they would put in somewhere and land.”
But the girls were uneasy and Betty was very much interested in her first big storm by the sea. “I wish we could go down to the dock to see things,” she said.
“Well, why not?” asked Carolyn. “As soon as it stops pouring, we’ll put on our ponchos and galoshes and go down. It’s not thundering much now. The storm’s gone out to sea!”
Mrs. Gwynne had no objection. A little later, protected from the still falling rain and equipped with flashlights, the girls ran or slipped on rocks and sand to the shore, warned against going too close. “No big wave is going to carry us off, Mother,” Carolyn assured Mrs. Gwynne. “We’ll look at it from a safe distance I promise you.”
At first they went by the usual “back way,” but found that at one point they could not safely pass. Waves dashed in against rocks that even at high tide they had found at some distance from the line of water. Accordingly they returned, by the ascent and steps, to the Gwynne grounds, from which a longer way led to the village and small docks.
Other people were out. Lanterns, rubber-coated men and women, with umbrellas, rubbers or galoshes, splashing through puddles, were in evidence. “Hello there!” cried a familiar voice. It was Chet Dorrance whose big flashlight had discovered the girls. There were the boys!
“Oh, we were worrying a little about you boys,” said Betty, as Chet took her arm and fell into step, guiding her around an immense puddle. “We tried to telephone Marcella and ‘Welcome Inn,’ too, but the fuse had burned out or something.”
“The storm has knocked everything out,” returned Chet. “We got home all right. I pity any boat that got caught tonight. We found good luck, not so far away, and when we saw that there was going to be a storm, we came back. Perhaps we wouldn’t have come if we hadn’t already had more fish than we could use. How about Gwynne Haven. Want any fish, or shall we have a big fish fry tomorrow?”
This last was in a louder tone to Carolyn, who with Kathryn was behind, accompanied by several more of the boys.
“Oh, the fish fry by all means,” called Carolyn.
“How can we have a fish fry after this?” asked Betty.
“Very likely tomorrow will be as bright as can be, Betty,” said Chet. “Gee whilikers, look at the dock!”
By this time they had reached the dock, where more than one boat owner had come down to see how his shipping fared. The boys found their boat intact and uninjured, and when Carolyn found that they had intended to come later on to “Gwynne Haven,” the new name for the new cottage, she told them to “come right along.”
“We’ll stop for Marcella and the rest,” continued Carolyn, “and have a fudge party. Then we can plan the fish fry.”
Not all the boats had fared as well as the launch used by the boys of “Welcome Inn.” Betty felt troubled over several rather distracted women whose “men-folks” had not come in. She overheard some woman assure them that they were “probably safe ashore somewhere,” but Betty knew that this was said only to cheer them a little. Oh, dear, the sea and fishing and boating were not all fun!
The fudge party was a success. Wet ponchos and coats and overshoes were hung around to dry while the savory odor of cooking fudge made pleasant anticipations. Arthur Penrose drew a funny sketch of Ted almost falling out of the boat in the effort to land a big fish. Then, on a piece of cardboard which Carolyn furnished, he made a poster of the fish fry. Art’s imagination ran riot and Betty watched his bold strokes and the funny figures that resulted, with as much hilarity as the rest. “Oh, you ought to do comic strip, Art,” she exclaimed. “You’d make a fortune.”
“Sh-hh!” returned Arthur, in a loud whisper. “It’s a secret. That is my present ambition. All I need is the idea!”
“That isgood” was Larry Waite’s verdict, when he and Judson Penrose surveyed the result, with Marcella and another Kappa Upsilon. “Unless some of you girls want it, we’ll tack that up in ‘Nobody T-Home’ tomorrow.”
“But don’t throw it away when we go home,” said Marcella. “We need that as a souvenir of the summer. Arthur, may I sit for my portrait?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Arthur, with affected timidity, “but I’m very expensive, you know.”
“What is that to me,” scornfully Marcella replied. “I could raise a thousand as easily as a—hundred.”
“Yes,” laughed her brother. “Marcella said this morning that she had just five cents left of her allowance.”
“Now, Larry! You know it is not polite to tell family secrets, especially about money.”
“Well, who mentioned money first, I ask the assembled company?”
Betty, laughing, caught Larry’s eye, and he stretched a hand to lift her from her seat by Arthur. “Come, Titania; you have wasted enough time in encouragement ofart, with or without a capital letter. Let’s turn on the victrola. No radio tonight, I reckon. It was sputtering to beat the band at our shack awhile ago.”
“A lot of interference from ships and shore,” said Ted Dorrance, “beside the weather—naught but static this eve.”
Hot fudge was good and the evening was merry, yet all of the young company were more or less conscious of the sea and its restless menace.
Yet when morning came, it was as Chet had said, bright and sunny, with a blue sky. The waves were still high and the stretch of water to the skyline a glorious sight. Betty selected a high rock, back of the beach proper, some distance from the Gwynne cottage, where she could sit and watch the incoming rollers with their white crests. The girls had gone down early in the hope of finding new shells brought in by the storm. Betty had a little market bag full of pretty ones. “I have to watch this a long time, Kathryn,” said she soberly to her friend, who had followed her. “Do you suppose it could fade out of a body’s mind, just like a film that you had taken full of pictures and then didn’t have developed?”
“Well, youareoriginal, Betty! Who else would think of that? I’d like to remember it, too. I feel as if something is going to happen, Betty. Why, do suppose?”
“Somethingisgoing to happen, the fish fry this afternoon.”
“I know.”
“Are you like that sometimes, Gypsy?”
“Yes. It must by my ‘gypsy blood!’”
“As you haven’t any, it must be something else. How about nerves from staying up till all hours last night?”
“Perhaps. But the whole village was up and we stayed in bed as late as we could and not miss getting shells.”
This conversation was interrupted by the arrival of more of their friends. Ted had his big camera and took Betty and Kathryn on their rock as well as snap-shots of shore and surf and groups of people here and there.
The fish fry in the afternoon was a source of more fun. All of them were more or less accustomed to picnics and cooking in the open. Larry and Ted had for fun brought immense cooks’ aprons and announced that they were chefs and “chief cooks and bottle washers.” Some spills occurred and a few fish were rather overdone; but that was better than not to be done enough. Pickles and rolls were “easier” than making sandwiches; and for dessert they had new England doughnuts and various sorts of fruit, according to the taste of those who chose the contributions. Lemonade, brought in “joy hats,” and bottles of pop regaled them when thirsty.
Not a plan was made for the next day. Every body was too lazy. “Something will turn up, girls,” said Larry Waite. “If nothing else we can always take a ride in the launch. It’s a little too rough today, though.”
The local movie was well attended that night. Ted, to Betty’s pleased surprise, invited her to accompany him. Carolyn went with Archie Penrose, Kathryn with Arthur, Gwen with Chet Dorrance and Peggy Pollard with Judd Penrose. Marcella and the other Kappa Upsilons had “other arrangements” at a party outside of this resort.
The “theatre party,” as Ted called, it, attended the “first show,” and after more or less attractive refreshments at the local ice-cream shop, the girls were duly taken home by boys that said they must have their “beauty sleep” and left with nothing beyond a visit on the front porch.
Gwen Penrose and Peggy Pollard were staying at Carolyn’s now and Gwen giggled a little when they went to their rooms, rather relieved, after all, that the boys had not come in for another party. One did have to have a little rest sometimes. “The boys have something on hand tonight,” said Gwen. “I got an inkling from Archie, though he wouldn’t tell me what they’re going to do—some boy stuff. My, doesn’t being outdoors so much make you sleepy?”
“Yes,” Betty happened to be the one to reply, she would be “as hoarse as a gull if she didn’t make so much noise tonight. It’s going to put me to sleep and that soon!”
But Betty reckoned without considering how many things are absolutely necessary to talk over. As there was another room connecting with Carolyn’s, Gwen and Peggy had been put there; but the girls went back and forth and Gwen in gay pajamas sat on Betty’s bed to talk for an hour, till Peggy called her and told her she would be “as hoarse as a gull if she didn’t either come to bed or get her robe around her.”
At that Betty made room for Gwen under her soft covers and never knew when Gwen, whispering to deaf ears, finally, went to her own bed in the next room.
CHAPTER VA SURPRISING RESCUE
Whatever it was that the boys had in mind or carried out that night, it must have kept them up till late or early hours, in spite of their joking about “beauty sleep.” Although the girls were on the beach more or less the next morning, not a sign did they see of any one from “Welcome Inn” or “Nobody At Home.” Everybody must have been at home. But all that any of the girls ever knew about performances was what Gwen told them, as Archie informed her it was “some sort of an initiation.”
Betty Lee wondered how it was possible for the sea to be so calm on only the second day after a storm like the one she had witnessed. There was the swell, to be sure, and the rollers came in as usual. The surf was just as beautiful and she experienced the delights of cutting the waves as she and Carolyn swam out as far as they dared. But the rocks lashed by the storm were now dry. No heaving, tossing maelstrom met the eye. Gently the boats at the little docks rocked up and down, lapped by such waves as reached them.
It was after lunch when Larry Waite, in his “adorable” yachting outfit and looking like a captain, Gwen said, stood at the Gwynne door, cap in hand. “Oh, come in, Larry,” welcomed Carolyn, jumping up from a low rocker and dropping the bit of embroidery that she was doing.
Larry entered and looked around with some amusement. “What!” said he teasingly, “is this the sewing circle? Can’t you find anything else to do on Maine shores?”
“Oh, we’ve been out all morning and ate so much lunch that we’re past going for awhile. Besides, Gwen is showing us a new stitch.” This was Peggy Pollard, who offered the explanation.
“Your excuses are accepted,” laughed Larry, “and I’ll not mention whatwehave been doing all morning.”
“Snoozing!” cried Gwen. “I know!”
“And didn’t we need it!” replied Larry. “But that is all by the way, girls. I’ve come to deliver an invitation from the crowd. Ted and Art are routing out some provisions from the groceries and such. How about a trip in the old boat and dinner some place?”
“Oh—grand!” cried Gwen.
“You’ve saved our lives,” said Carolyn, with exaggerated gratitude, resigning her circle of embroidery with an air of “nothing more to do with you!” “When do we start?”
“Meet me by yonder swelling wave in half an hour,” grinned Larry, looking at Betty, who had said nothing but looked her approval of the plan. “In other words, I’m going down now to see that the tug’s in shape and if you will be down at the dock in half an hour or so, it will give us time to do anything necessary and stow away the hardtack. Besides, don’t you girls always have things to do like powdering your noses or being sure that the vanity what you call it is along?”
“You are only forgiven because of the nice invitation, Larry,” said Kathryn. “You forget that we are laying on a fashionable coat of tan these days.”
“Sure enough.” Larry was on the porch by this time, fleeing in pretended fear from threatening looks. “I’m glad you want to go, girls, and if you want to bring any fishing tackle of your own, we may fish a little before we get back. The sea is fine and we may go as far as a little island I know.”
There was great scurrying around for a little while, also much wagging of tongues. Costumes were quickly changed, for with Larry looking as he did, they must dress the part. Besides, the boat was pretty fit, and Betty asked Gwen again if you “could call it a yacht.”
“It’s as big as some that have the name,” replied Gwen, “and it’s big enough to go to sea in, though I’d hate to be caught in it if there were a storm like the one we just had.”
“Oh, sailors weather them, in littler boats than that,” Kathryn declared.
Soon, on board, the boat guided by Larry Waite’s experienced hand, Betty Lee, Carolyn Gwynne, Kathryn Allen, Peggy Pollard and Gwendolyn Penrose were the guests of Larry, Ted and Chet Dorrance, Arthur and Archie Penrose. Judd Penrose had motored up to join Marcella and her friends, but as Ted told Betty privately, he and Larry “escaped.” “You see, Betty, there’s a girl that I’d a little rather—well I don’t mean that she exactly likes me, but anyhow I didn’t want to go and Larry felt the same way. With a lot of nice girls right here, what’s the use?”
This amused Betty, who knew that some girls did more or less pursue Ted. “Thanks for the compliment to us, Ted,” she answered. “I’m glad you and Larry didn’t go. A picnic is just what I’m wanting, too.”
Facing the ocean, just as if she were going to land in Spain or France or some other delightful country, Betty felt that the world was a large place this afternoon. Larry took them out from bays and rocks to where the going was safe. Strange birds dived into waves ahead of them after their prey, or floated upon the water, rising and falling with the movement of the sea, to fly as the boat approached them. And just as young appetites began to be ready for the good picnic supper, there in sight was the island of which Larry had spoken. The course had been changed after they were well away from the shore, toward the north first, then toward the coast again, as Larry executed a curve, as it were, to approach this island from the proper angle. Carefully he took the boat into the bay scarcely worthy of the name, so shallow was it. But there was a rickety floating dock attached to the shore and a rocky way cut, by which they all were soon ascending to the top of a low cliff. Other rocks beyond were higher and a little woods invited them to picnic. There was a spring of clear water, which was probably what made the island a resort for picnics.
The first thing was to appease hunger. Carolyn had gathered up some fresh doughnuts made that morning by their New England cook and had taken bodily a fresh veal loaf, but with her mother’s permission. This bit of homemade cookery added pleasantly to what the boys had purchased at the village stores. They would be able to satisfy hunger at least!
For possibly half an hour or more they regaled themselves and talked, then discussed whether they should do any fishing, for this was supposed to be a good place, or whether they should merely roam over the island a little and then take to the boat again. While this more or less important decision was being made, they were suddenly quite surprised by the arrival of a stranger, who came over a little rise of the rocky land beyond the trees and approached them. He was a somewhat haggard-looking man, whose clothing was tumbled and mussed. He wore an old sweater and his old felt hat was pulled down almost over his dark eyes.
He sharply looked over the little company before him, then came more rapidly toward them. “It is fortunate for me that you came here for your picnic,” said he. “IthoughtI heard voices! I was wrecked here in the storm and I wonder if I can get you to take me over to the mainland.”
“Of course we can,” said Larry pleasantly. He had risen and was taking in the stranger as keenly as that man was regarding the group.
“Were you hurt? And did you lose your boat and companions?”
“There’s nobody here but me,” the man replied, rather too hastily, Larry thought. “I’m not hurt very much, but I ought to get to a doctor as soon as I can.”
“All right,” said Larry. “We want to run over the island a little, to show it to the girls, and then we’ll be ready to go. You must be hungry, if you’ve been here with nothing to eat since the storm. Girls, isn’t there something we can fix for him right away?”
But the man was waving his hands rather distractedly. “Oh, why must you wait? There’s nothing but rocks here! Let’s go at once! Besides, if I can get some one to come back and fix my boat for me I may save it before the waves beat it to pieces!”
“Maybe we can fix it for you,” suggested Ted, springing to his feet, but winking at Archie, as he turned. Afterwards he said that he had his suspicions of all’s not being as it seemed.
“No, no, no,” excitedly said the man, with a gesture as if he would keep Ted back. “Take me away at once!” he cried, and as if to prove his need he sank to the ground, startling the girls, who jumped up at once.
“Oh, the poor fellow!” exclaimed Carolyn.
“Ted, we’d better take him right away! He’s all used up, shipwrecked and everything!”
“So he is,” said Ted, starting toward the man. “Pour me a cup of that coffee, Carolyn. We’ll get something hot inside of him. Larry, I’d suggest that we get him down into the boat right away. Pack up the stuff, kids.”
Larry was bending over the man, lifting him to a sitting position, for he had not fainted. His hat had fallen off and he reached for it himself, pulling it down over his forehead again. Betty Lee was staring at him. Where had she seen that man before and heard that voice?
The coffee was gratefully swallowed and he accepted a doughnut with it, though Carolyn was not sure that a doughnut was the best thing for a starving man. “I can wait to eat more until you all come,” suggested the man. “I am feeling pretty good now. If I can just get to the mainland. I’ll tell you just where to land me.”
“Never mind now,” said Larry. “We’ll take you where you want to go.” Larry was not to carry out that statement, but he did not know it as she made it.
There was a little group of the boys around the man now and Ted, speaking to Archie, who had said something Betty did not hear, said, “All right, Archie—you help Larry take him to the boat and I’ll help here. We’ll be away in a jiffy.”
Larry and Archie kindly helped the man over the rocks and down to the boat, while Ted turned to the other boys and girls speaking now in a low tone. “I’m suspicious of that chap,” said Ted. “I think Larry is, too. Don’t hurry too much and go down one at a time carrying something, girls. Come on, Chet. You and I will go over the island a bit and see what this wreck is.”
Arthur, who had been making a funny sketch of the picnic party when the man appeared, now put his paper in his pocket and told the girls that it seemed to be “up to him to pack the stuff.”
“Not a bit of it,” said Carolyn. “Didn’t you hear Ted tell us not to hurry. Go on with the boys.”
“I’ll see where they’re going,” returned Arthur, “and come back to protect you!”
The girls laughed at this, and Carolyn began to separate some of the most attractive remains to be packed together, ready for a good lunch for the “shipwrecked sailor.” She was the first one to go down to the boat, carrying this. Gwen followed her shortly, then Peggy. Kathryn and Betty were beginning to gather up the rest of the equipment, except the heavier articles, which they had been “ordered” to leave for the boys, when there came a hail and Chet came leaping over the rocks in the background, crossing from the rise of ground as the stranger had done before him. “Where’s the rest of that coffee?” he demanded. “We’ve found the boat all right, out of commission and there’s a fellow in it—bound and gagged he was—that old scoundrel!”
“Oh, Chet!” cried Betty. “Why, Carolyn took the thermos bottle and the coffee to the boat, for the man if he should want anything more.”
“Whatthatfellow needs is a rope and a limb!” growled Chet, not waiting to be polite, but scrambling down the rocks to where the boat stood waiting. Betty and Kathryn left their baskets to run in the direction of the rocks. They had hoped to see something of this pretty island as it was. Through and over the rocks they speedily went and there stretched before them an irregular path, winding among more trees and disappearing in the direction of another shore where the wash of the surf could be heard.
They started down the path, but were surprised to see Ted and Arthur, slowly approaching and half carrying some one between them. “You’ll be all right, old fellow, as soon as you get limbered up a little,” Ted was saying.
“Shall we set you down for a moment or can you keep going?”
Something indistinct was replied. It does not help communication to have been gagged for some little time. And Ted waslaughingat the reply! Betty and Kathryn were horrified; but all in a moment they saw who it was that was being carried as more than once he had been helped from the football field at Lyon High. It was the Don! Obviously Chet had not waited to see who it was.
Ted grinned when he saw Betty. “He says it’s a little worse than athletics, Betty, but he can make it.” Then Ted’s expression changed.
“Please hurry up Chet with that coffee and then tell him to see to it that the boys tie up that old villain!”
In a flash Betty sensed the situation. It was the “villain!” She had only seen him once, and then not any too well—but she should have known the voice, though not quite so suave as when he had called upon her father to inquire for Ramon.
“Ramon Sevilla!” she gasped. But it was no time to learn how all this had happened. She turned back with Kathryn, but Chet in a great hurry passed them and was giving Ramon a drink of the coffee.
Affairs moved rapidly after this. Betty and Kathryn gathered up the rest of the picnic supplies and hurried to the boat. There Larry and Archie had secured the “villain,” who was angry and dangerous, they said. “Oh, you’d go off and leave somebody to die, would you?” belligerently queried Chet.
“I would have come back with my friends for him,” growled the angry man.
“And what would you have done with him then? Yes, you’ll tell that to the judge!”
But they fed the villain as well as Ramon, the “Don” of football fame, over whom they all rejoiced. Ramon was in no condition to tell his story and interested as they all were, they waited and asked no questions. The boys made him comfortable in the little cabin, fed him and left him to sleep. They told the girls how they had found the boat, really disabled as the man had said, and as they investigated they heard a low moan. Ramon could not call to them for the man had gagged him, presumably when he knew that the picnickers had landed there. There had evidently been a struggle against the gagging process, though Ramon had been securely tied before, he had given them to understand. Half conscious now, he had still recognized Ted and when freed had gradually come to himself. “You can’t get a good football player down!” declared Chet, referring to the characteristic nerve with which Ramon insisted on trying to walk up the path and over the rocks to the boat. “I didn’t recognize him, though—and the other boys untied him.”
The trip home was quiet but beautiful. The boys were more or less disturbed over their captive, and the girls kept far away from him. What a pity it was, thought Betty, that people should be so bad in such a beautiful world. The sunset colors were just as glorious as ever and the sky was mirrored upon the water. “Where every prospect pleases and only man is vile,” she quoted to Larry, at the wheel, to his amusement. To him she related all the story of Ramon as far as she knew it. “How glad he will be to know about his mother and sister,” said she, “and that they are safe! And it will be wonderful for them. I believe I’ll send a telegram in the morning—or would you?”
“I’ll send one if you like, Betty—for you. But perhaps we’d better find out what Ramon wants first. He might like to be the one to open communication.”
“Yes. You are right, Larry.”
“Stay right by me, Betty Lee,” said Larry at this juncture, for Betty, drawn by his beckoning hand had joined him. “Don’t you want to learn how to steer a boat, much as you like the sea?”
“Yes, I do. Will you show me, Larry? You like the water, too, don’t you? I didn’t know it till this summer.”
“I’m very fond of any kind of water and most of all the sea, though I’m no goldfish,” and Larry laughed, looking at the waving golden locks now blown by the ocean breeze.
“How did you ever hear that!” cried Betty. “I wish the girls wouldn’t tell everything!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll not think of you as a goldfish, though that’s funny, Betty. But I think of you as Titania—on All Hallowe’en, you know.” Larry looked at Betty meaningly, and Betty smiled, but dropped her eyes before Larry’s. Fortunately Gwen and Carolyn came up just then to comment on Betty’s having the wheel. “Don’t upset us, Betty,” said Gwen.
“I won’t; Larry is watching me, and it’s only for a minute.”
The boys took Ramon to their own shack, while the villain was lodged in the village jail, after Ramon had been consulted in regard to the charges to be brought against him. There were plenty, Ramon said, theft, practical kidnapping and the cruel treatment that might have resulted in death. But Ramon was too exhausted to talk much. The man gave his name as Peter Melinoff, very different from that he had given Betty’s father, and the boys said it was a joke, for he was “no more Russian than a rabbit.” “It’s just one of his aliases,” suggested Archie Penrose.
But the great disappointment to all, and a tragic one to Ramon, apparently was that on the third night from the one on which the two had been brought to the village, the man who had done so much to injure Ramon broke jail and fled. It was very likely that he had gotten word in some way to his friends, Ramon said. And worst of all, Ramon would not allow word to be sent as yet to his mother and sister. He had told them to wait at first. Then, after the jailbird had flown, he said that he would not send word at all.
“The reason is this,” said Ramon. “He has finally gotten hold of even the jewels that I have kept so long, for my mother and sister if I ever found them. He was trying to get me to sign a paper finally putting it out of our power to get the property that he has and that is ours. I must follow him, and it is none too safe, as recent events indicate. Iwill notpermit him to rob us; and now I have some grounds on which to hold him.”
“But please don’t do it all by yourself,” said Betty, who was having this final conversation with Ramon.
“Betty, if I get what belongs to us, it is all right. If I do not, how could I pay for a detective? I will do this, though. If I succeed in getting the jewels again, I will see that they get to your father for my mother. Now that I have all of you back of me I will not be afraid of being arrested for having ‘stolen jewels,’ as that fellow always threatened. Then, if the jewels come, there will be a letter for my mother and Ramona Rose. But it would be cruel to stir them up about me now. Don’t you see?”
Betty did see. The story was not complete yet, but Ramon had told them all about how he had had an offer of a good salary in Canada by people who proved to be carriers of liquor into the United States, merely Detroit rum-runners after all. There were some “big people” in it, Ramon said, and he was having difficulty in getting safely out of the toils when this man appeared, having relations with the ring of rum-runners, and took charge of Ramon. That was how in one of the trucks he had been brought to the coast where he had at first thought that escape might be easy. He had made no objection to the proposed trip for that reason and was inveigled into the boat, where he found “Peter Melinoff” and had to endure his unholy joy and a species of torture while the man made the effort to have Ramon sign the paper. He had held out until the storm, which for a time ended his troubles, though, he was still tied and expected to go down in the sea. But at the end of the storm they were cast on the island and the man who was with “Peter” either fell overboard and was drowned or was assisted to that fate by Peter. There seemed nothing too desperate for him to do.
“Well, Ramon, remember,” said Betty at the last of their interview, “that any mother and sister I know would rather have you safe than any amount of property or jewels or anything.”
“Yes,” thoughtfully said Ramon. “My mother and sister are like that. But I am no weakling and I know more than when I was brought to this country. I’ll promise you just one thing, for their sakes—not to take such risks again. I have a little money sewed in my clothing. They did not find that. In fact, for some time I have been in the habit of always having something hidden for an emergency. If you knew, Betty—well, if I never get back you may tell my mother and sister that I constantly thought of them. In six months I expect to see you all.”
There was only one consolation to the girls who had taken such an interest: the authorities would now get after the ring. Ramon would not be alone in his search, after all; but the day after the man called Peter Melinoff had broken out of jail, Ramon was gone.
CHAPTER VIVACATION’S LAST FLING
“Gid-ap!” cried Betty, waving a willow switch, but not touching her old horse with it. Four or five girls were urging their gentle steeds along the pretty country road near the camp to which Betty Lee and Kathryn had come for their last fling before school.
“This is like old days at the farm,” remarked Betty, rather jerkily, as her horse picked up his pace and stride and jolted her. One of the girls that Betty had recently met at camp passed now with a clatter of horse’s hoofs and a flapping of girl elbows.
“She can’t ride any better than we can,” cried Kathryn, grinning. “It’s us for riding lessons this fall, isn’t it Betty?”
Betty only nodded. This was great fun, riding up hill and down dale in the country-side near the camp to which Betty had duly come, although all that they had planned had not been carried out. Mr. Lee had not brought Mrs. Lee and Amy Lou to New England, since business in New York held him there. But the Penroses, driving up to the Maine village to investigate all its delights, of which they were hearing in letters from Gwen and cards from their sons, left at the psychological moment, Gwen said, to take Kathryn and Betty with them.
It was a little hard to leave Carolyn behind. She had given up all idea of camp and Betty really did not see how any one could leave the ocean unless she had to. But the restless boys had been making ready to leave on some other trip, by boat, if Larry Waite had his way. There would be some scattering.
Betty and Kathryn were taken by car to Boston, where they embarked for New York, going on a “delirious” jaunt by a coast steamer to New York. There they joined the Lees, Amy Lou doing the honors of the city with great dignity and telling the girls where to see different things of importance. Betty would not spoil Amy Lou’s enthusiasm by reminding her that she had been there before. That was one pleasant custom in the Lee family, to give each member a fair chance with enthusiasms or accomplishments. To take the wind out of anybody’s sails—well, that was too deadly!
But Betty and Kathryn had a gay time for a a week. They ate lobster in one delightful place and had French dainties in another. And both agreed that no summer which they ever should have could come up to this one. Here they were now in this wonderful camp; and Betty declared that having seen her father and mother and Amy Lou had been quite enough to stave off any homesickness. She neverwouldwant to go home now. Imagine! School!
This was more like school in numbers, this Indiana camp of Girl Reserves. The group in the Maine village had been more or less an exclusive, or small one. Here were about sixty girls, only a few of whom Betty knew, though there were some from other high schools in her home city. And were theyfriendly—andnoisy, at certain times? So Betty queried in her home letter written the day after arrival. But it was only the camp freedom, supervised, to be sure, that found expression here as in all camps.
Betty and Kathryn, rather expecting this to be something of an anti-climax after Maine, were pleasantly disappointed. Why, it was “gorgeous!” And it may be that the extravagant expressions of youth were justified. It was “like being away to school—and without lessons!” Betty’s only other camp experience had been a week-end attendance upon a Fall Retreat. That she had “loved” and it had made her happy in her interest in Lyon “T,” but it did not last long enough. By arrangement she was here for three weeks and would see some changes in the personnel of the girls. Many of them came for only a week; some, for two weeks.
The camp had been a gift to the Y. W. C. A., and consisted of the buildings and grounds of a country resort, close to a tiny country town. The main building, originally a country hotel or club house, was a three-story structure and had been adapted to its present use, very much like a girls’ dormitory. Wide porches, a large room with a fireplace for the open fires they sometimes had in cool evenings, an immense dining room, a big “back porch” which was practically a large room and now glassed in and screened, to be thrown open often—all these were prominent features.
There were several small cottages and because the next group of Girl Reserves was a large one, Kathryn and Betty had been placed in one of these, as they were to stay over into the next period. The girls were at first a trifle disappointed, but when they found that a phoebe was nesting on the ledge above their very door, undisturbed with their passing in and out, they were quite delighted.
Main building, cottages and all were perched on a wooded bluff above the banks of a beautiful little river. It was not the ocean, to be sure, but Betty was satisfied when she first realized the loveliness of the place, its tall trees, the birds nesting close by and their songs in the morning. And oh, the nice space! Little country roads, deep hollows, thick woods, all sorts of growths with the wild flowers of the late season! There was a safe backwater in which to swim and bathe—and the water was warm, and did not taste salty! Inland country had a beauty of its own. Moreover, there was some one to tell you about everything.
A young science instructor from one of the colleges had charge of a nature interest group, for which Betty and Kathryn promptly signed. Betty joined the dramatic group and Kathryn signed up for handicraft. Both were in the recreation group, and they concluded that a poetry club would be “instructive.”
Yet it was not in the least like school and classes. The nature group met out under the trees and planned or executed a hike. The recreation group played tennis, volley ball and other outdoor games or scampered over the country on horseback, as Betty and Kathryn were doing now. The dramatic group took the lead in the funny plays or masquerades or stunts with which the whole camp was entertained.
And now the girls were jogging slowly home from their ride. The horses would be given a little rest and another set of riders would have their turn.
“I had a note from Ramon this morning, Kathryn,” said Betty, as she tied her horse to the proper place and joined Kathryn in a stroll down the hill to the bridge that crossed the river. “I haven’t had a good chance before to tell you without somebody around.”
“Then he’s still alive,” said Kathryn, her eye on a rabbit that popped out of the bushes and went scurrying down the little road.
“He was when he wrote it,” giggled Betty. Then she sobered, thinking that it was not very nice of her to make a joke of anything connected with that harassed boy.
“You didn’t tell us much about your talk with Ramon, Betty,” remarked Kathryn, with an air of inviting confidences.
“There was so little of it,” musingly returned Betty. “Look! There’s that Kentucky warbler that we’ve been trying to see! I didn’t know that they nested here till Miss Davenport told us.”
“Well, Kentucky is the name of it, and if thisisIndiana, camp isn’t so far north of the Ohio River.”
Even the girls’ low voices had made the bird whisk out of sight again. Quiet indeed must she who follows the birds learn to be! There was no further conversation while the girls stealthily tiptoed to a vantage point and watched the thick bushes that concealed the warbler. Then—oh joy!—there were both of the mates. First the male bird flew from the bush to a tree above. On a lower limb, in plain sight, he rested for a few moments, a ray of sunlight catching the bright yellow of his breast and showing clearly the black markings of the head. But whisk—they were both there on the same limb for a second, then gone! Bird study was like that!
“Now you see them and now you don’t see them!” said Betty, wishing that she had her notebook. “Don’t let me forget, Kathryn, to put all that down for our reports, and about the little field sparrow’s nest we found at the foot of that tree. Gracious! I’m afraid now ofsteppingon some nest when we dash around!”
“Go on about Ramon, Betty.”
The girls stopped on the great bridge and leaned on its railing to look down at the water below. A little green heron started from a thicket close to the river and a spotted sandpiper flew close to the sands or gravel upon a “sand-bar” and kept on its low flight for some distance up the stream.
“I suppose I told you how relieved he was to hear that his mother and sister were found and all right. I tried to get him to see how much more his mother would want him than any money, but he doesn’t look at it that way.”
“Maybe there’s some reason we don’t know, Betty. Then folks are different about those things. Perhaps theydocare about the jewels and their family and all more than aboutliving, without them.”
Betty considered. “I suppose they do hate to be taken advantage of and I suppose awful things must have happened through that old scoundrel.” Betty looked around almost as if she expected to see him. “Oh, let’s forget about it. Ramon Sevilla-sky will just have to have his old adventures if he will be so obstinate. All he said in his letter was that hewasstill alive and on the trail. He just wrote to thank me for everything, he said, and he could write to Father later on, if he had any success.”
Kathryn, who had laughed at Betty’s combination of Ramon’s name, repeated meaningly “if he has any success!”
When the girls went back to headquarters again, they found things humming as usual in the merry beehive of activity. Bernadine Fisher, one of the dramatic group, handed them each a large scrap of brown paper, torn in irregular shape and written upon with a very black pencil. This was the invitation to a barn dance, to take place that evening. “Look as crazy as you can,” said Bernadine. “And after the barn dance we’re going to put on our masterpiece. Don’t forget, Betty, that you are the heroine that gets kidnapped and everything. Ask Miss Mercer about costume. You remember we talked about that.”
“Yes—but what do Isay?”
“Oh, make it up! The heroine doesn’t have to say much. She will probably be gagged anyhow if she is kidnapped!”
“Yes, but I’m one of the villains,” said Kathryn, “and we didn’t write up anything but the plot!”
“That’s all right. We almost never do for a stunt like this. Just get the general idea and work out the details as you do it.”
Kathryn and Betty looked at each other with large-sized smiles as Bernadine left them, though Betty was thinking to herself that kidnapping and being gagged was not so funny in real life. She had seen Ramon after such an experience.
“This goes in my stunt-book,” said Kathryn, holding up the artistically torn piece of brown paper. “It’s loads of fun, Betty, but I guess we’d better see Miss Mercer about when to come in with our speeches. It wouldn’t do to be standing around waiting for each other before the audience. What did I ever let you work me into this play for?”
“You know you wouldn’t miss it, Gypsy! Oh, yes, Miss Davenport, I should say wewillhelp you put up the bird pictures! Wait till I get the thumb tacks for you. Have we really seen that many?”
On the big sun porch Kathryn and Betty were soon busy helping put up, from the excellent portfolio of bird pictures published by the New York State Museum or the “University of the State of New York,” such pictures as represented birds actually seen by the nature group in camp. “We have not as many as we would see in the migration season,” Miss Davenport explained, “but it is easy enough to get at least fifty birds that nest about here on our list. I’m making a tree list now for the camp; and don’t forget to report all the wild flowers, girls.”
The play that night was a great success, a few bad moments for the actors, when something wrong was done, resulting only in shrieks of delight and enjoyment from the audience. It was rather entertaining to hear several startled and perfectly distinct remarks from a heroine that was supposed to be unable to speak or call for aid. But Betty thought she was going to be dropped by the excited villains and spoke before she thought. “Oh!” she finished much mortified, and Kathryn saved the day by clapping a hand over the heroine’s mouth and calling for “another gag.”
“She will rouse the neighbors yet!” cried Kathryn with a dramatic gesture, “and all will be lost! See, varlets, that you make a good job of it this time!” True, “varlets” and “job” scarcely seemed to belong to the same vernacular, but what mattered a little thing like that? Besides, they were giving a “real play” at the end of the week.
Ah, the fun they had, the friendships they made and the lessons they learned in “good sportsmanship” and living together! From reveille to taps they went from one activity to another, or slept in rest hour, or sang at meals. Two things Betty declared that she could never forget. One was a wet evening when a fire in the big fireplace was comfortable. It was their hearth fire and camp fire in one and the girls sat around on the floor before it or ranged themselves in comfortable seats at a greater distance, while one of the young teachers who was a fine story-teller told all that they asked for of the old tales, and more amusing or thrilling newer ones.
The other great moment came during the beautiful ceremonial at the end of the period. Betty and Kathryn had been leaders in the school organization and found themselves useful here. Both received honors at the recognition service. And oh, that lovely night, with its moon, its firelight outdoors, its lights carried by the girls among the shadows and its inspiration!
“I like you, Betty Lee,” facetiously, yet truthfully said one of the camp directors as Betty bid her goodbye on the big bridge. A whole procession of girls was walking across it to take the train at the village station and a loaded old truck was ahead of them with suitcases galore.
The young director withdrew her arm which she had linked with Betty’s as she strolled with the girls as far as the bridge.
“I mean it,” laughed she. “You are a wholesome, happy girl, and I like your influence upon other girls. I hope you’ll be president of Lyon ‘Y’ this year again.”
Betty shook her head in the negative, looking ahead at Kathryn who was walking with one of their many new friends. “No—I’ve had that and I want Kathryn in this year, if possible. But I’ll work for it just as hard and all the more for having been here! Thank you for your good opinion of me—I’ll try to deserve it. And we all just loveyou! Thank you for everything! I’ve had just thehappiesttime!”
“I’m glad of that, my dear. Come back next year for we have bigger plans than ever. Remember, Betty Lee, that wherever you go you are going to have an influence you do not realize on other girls.”
“Mercy, Miss Dale, don’t tell me that! I don’twantto! If there’s anything I hate it’s trying to manage anybody!”
“I don’t mean that,” smiled Miss Dale. “You may find out what I do mean some day.”
But Betty dismissed this thought. The train was late and as the crowd of girls waited they sangSkin-a-ma-rink-a-dink-a-dink,Sing-a-linga-ling,Yawning, and other camp classics, varied by their own versions and their hiking and goodbye songs. A tear or two had to be wiped away over a few sentimental partings. But after the train came in, demure and bright-eyed travelers happily boarded it.