When Uncle William Minturn came in from the city that evening he had some mysterious news. Everybody guessed it was about Nellie, but as surprises were always cropping up at Ocean Cliff, the news was kept secret and the whispering increased.
"I had hard work to get her to come," said Uncle William to Mrs. Bobbsey, still guarding the mystery, "but I finally prevailed upon her and she will be down on the morning train."
"Poor woman, I am sure it will do her good," remarked Mrs. Bobbsey."Your house has been a regular hotel this summer," she said toMr. Minturn.
"That's what we are here for," he replied. "We would not have much pleasure, I am sure, if our friends were not around us."
"Did you hear anything more about the last vessel?" asked Aunt Emily.
"Yes, I went down to the general office today, and an incoming steamer was sure it was the West Indies vessel that was sighted four days ago."
"Then they should be near port now?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"They ought to be," replied Uncle William, "but the cargo is so heavy, and the schooner such a very slow sailer, that it takes a long time to cover the distance."
Next morning, bright and early, Dorothy had the donkeys in harness.
"We are going to the station to meet some friends, Nellie," she said."Come along?"
"What! More company?" exclaimed Nellie. "I really ought to go home.I am well and strong now."
"Indeed you can't go until we let you," said Dorothy, laughing. "I suppose you think all the fun went with Harry," she added, teasingly, for Dorothy knew Nellie had been acting lonely ever since the carnival. She was surely homesick to see her mother and talk about the big prize.
The two girls had not long to wait at the station, for the train pulled in just as they reached the platform. Dorothy looked about a little uneasily.
"We must watch for a lady in a linen suit with black hat," she said toNellie; "she's a stranger."
That very minute the linen suit appeared.
"Oh, oh!" screamed Nellie, unable to get her words. "There is my mother!" and the next thing Dorothy knew, Nellie was trying to "wear the same linen dress" that the stranger appeared in—at least, that was how Dorothy afterwards told about Nellie's meeting with her mother.
"My daughter!" exclaimed the lady, "I have been so lonely I came to bring you home."
"And this is Dorothy," said Nellie, recovering herself. "Dorothy is my best friend, next to Nan."
"You have surely been among good friends," declared the mother, "for you have gotten the roses back in your cheeks again. How well you do look!"
"Oh, I've had a perfectly fine time," declared Nellie.
"Fine and dandy," repeated Dorothy, unable to restrain her fun-making spirit.
At a glance Dorothy saw why Nellie, although poor, was so genteel, for her mother was one of those fine-featured women that seem especially fitted to say gentle things to children.
Mrs. McLaughlin was not old,—no older than Nan's mother,—and she had that wonderful wealth of brown hair, just like Nellie's. Her eyes were brown, too, while Nellie's were blue, but otherwise Nellie was much like her mother, so people said.
Aunt Emily and Mrs. Bobbsey had visited Mrs. McLaughlin in the city, so that they were quite well acquainted when the donkey cart drove up, and they all had a laugh over the surprise to Nellie. Of course that was Uncle William's secret, and the mystery of the whispering the evening before.
"But we must go back on the afternoon train," insistedMrs. McLaughlin, who had really only come down to the shore to bringNellie home.
"Indeed, no," objected Aunt Emily, "that would be too much traveling in one day. You may go early in the morning."
"Everybody is going home," sighed Dorothy. "I suppose you will be the next to go, Nan," and she looked quite lonely at the prospect.
"We are going to have a big storm," declared Susan, who had just come in from the village. "We have had a long dry spell, now we are going to make up for it."
"Dear me," sighed Mrs. McLaughlin, "I wish we had started for home."
"Oh, there's lots of fun here in a storm," laughed Dorothy. "The ocean always tries to lick up the whole place, but it has to be satisfied with pulling down pavilions and piers. Last year the water really went higher than the gas lights along the boulevard."
"Then that must mean an awful storm at sea," reflected Nellie's mother. "Storms are bad enough on land, but at sea they must be dreadful!" And she looked out toward the wild ocean, that was keeping from her the fate of her husband.
Long before there were close signs of storm, life-guards, on the beach, were preparing for it. They were making fast everything that could be secured and at the life-saving station all possible preparations were being made to help those who might suffer from the storm.
It was nearing September and a tidal wave had swept over the southern ports. Coming in all the way from the tropics the storm had made itself felt over a great part of the world, in some places taking the shape of a hurricane.
On this particular afternoon, while the sun still shone brightly over Sunset Beach, the storm was creeping in under the big waves that dashed up on the sands.
"It is not safe to let go the ropes," the guards told the people, but the idea of a storm, from such a pretty sky, made some daring enough to disobey these orders. The result was that the guards were kept busy trying to bring girls and women to their feet, who were being dashed around by the excited waves.
This work occupied the entire afternoon, and as soon as the crowd left the beach the life-guards brought the boats down to the edge, got their lines ready, and when dark came on, they were prepared for the life-patrol,—the long dreary watch of the night, so near the noisy waves, and so far from the voice of distress that might call over the breakers to the safe shores, where the life-savers waited, watched, and listened.
The rain began to fall before it was entirely dark. The lurid sunset, glaring through the dark and rain, gave an awful, yellow look to the land and sea alike.
"It is like the end of the world," whispered Nellie to Nan, as the two girls looked out of the window to see the wild storm approaching.
Then the lightning came in blazing blades, cutting through the gathering clouds.
The thunder was only like muffled rolls, for the fury of the ocean deadened every other sound of heaven or earth.
"It will be a dreadful storm," said Aunt Emily to Mrs. Bobbsey. "We must all go into the sitting room and pray for the sailors."
Everyone in the house assembled in the large sitting room, and Uncle William led the prayers. Poor Mrs. McLaughlin did not once raise her head. Nellie, too, hid her pale face in her hands.
Dorothy was frightened, and when all were saying good-night she pressed a kiss on Nellie's cheek, and told her that the life-savers on Sunset Beach would surely be able to save all the sailors that came that way during the big storm.
Nellie and her mother occupied the same room. Of course the mother had been told that the long delayed boat had been sighted, and now, how anxiously she awaited more news of Nellie's father.
"We must not worry," she told Nellie, "for who knows but the storm may really help father's boat to get into port?"
So, while the waves lashed furiously upon Sunset Beach, all the people in the Minturn cottage were sleeping, or trying to sleep, for, indeed, it was not easy to rest when there was so much danger at their very door.
"Mother, mother!" called Nellie, "look down at the beach. The life-guards are burning the red signal lights! They have found a wreck!"
It was almost morning, but the black storm clouds held the daylight back. Mrs. McLaughlin and her little daughter strained their eyes to see, if possible, what might be going on down at the beach. While there was no noise to give the alarm, it seemed, almost everybody in that house felt the presence of the wreck, for in a very few minutes, Bert was at his window, Dorothy and Nan were looking out of theirs, while the older members of the household were dressing hastily, to see if they might be of any help in case of accident at the beach.
"Can I go with you, Uncle?" called Bert, who had heard his uncle getting ready to run down to the water's edge.
"Yes, come along," answered Mr. Minturn, and as day began to peep through the heavy clouds, the two hurried down to the spot where the life-guards were burning their red light to tell the sailors their signal had been seen.
"There's the vessel!" exclaimed Bert, as a rocket flew up from the water.
"Yes, that's the distress signal," replied the uncle. "It is lucky that daylight is almost here."
Numbers of other cottagers were hurrying to the scene now, Mr. Bingham and Hal being among the first to reach the spot.
"It's a schooner," said Mr. Bingham to Mr. Minturn, "and she has a very heavy cargo."
The sea was so wild it was impossible to send out the life-savers' boats, so the guards were making ready the breeches buoy.
"They are going to shoot the line out now," explained Hal to Bert, as the two-wheel car with the mortar or cannon was dragged down to the ocean's edge.
Instantly there shot out to sea a ball of thin cord. To this cord was fastened a heavy rope or cable.
"They've got it on the schooner." exclaimed a man, for the thin cord was now pulling the cable line out, over the water.
"What's that board for?" asked Bert, as he saw a board following the cable.
"That's the directions," said Hal.
"They are printed in a number of languages, and they tell the crew to carry the end of the cable high up the mast and fasten it strongly there."
"Oh, I see," said Bert, "the line will stretch then, and the breeches buoy will go out on a pulley."
"That's it," replied Hal. "See, there goes the buoy," and then the queer-looking life-preserver made of cork, and shaped like breeches, swung out over the waves.
It was clear day now, and much of the wicked storm had passed. Its effect upon the sea was, however, more furious every hour, for while the storm had left the land, it was raging somewhere else, and the sensitive sea felt every throb of the excited elements.
With the daylight came girls and women to the beach.
Mrs. Bobbsey, Mrs. Minturn, Nellie and her mother, besides Dorothy and Nan, were all there; Flossie and Freddie being obliged to stay home with Dinah and Susan.
Of course the girls asked all sorts of questions and Bert and Hal tried to answer them as best they could.
It seemed a long time before any movement of the cable showed that the buoy was returning.
"Here she comes! Here she comes!" called the crowd presently, as the black speck far out, and the strain on the cord, showed the buoy was coming back.
Up and down in the waves it bobbed, sometimes seeming to go all the way under. Nearer and nearer it came, until now a man's head could be seen.
"There's a man in it!" exclaimed the boys, all excitement, while the life-guards pulled the cord steadily, dragging in their human freight.
The girls and women were too frightened to talk, and Nellie clung close to her mother.
A big roller dashing in finished the work for the life-guards, and a man in the cork belt bounded upon shore.
He was quite breathless when the guards reached him, but insisted on walking up instead of being carried. Soon he recovered himself and the rubber protector was pulled off his face.
Everybody gathered around, and Nellie with a strange face, and a stranger hope, broke through the crowd to see the rescued man.
"Oh—it is—my—father!" she screamed, falling right into the arms of the drenched man.
"Be careful," called Mr. Minturn, fearing the child might be mistaken, or Mrs. McLaughlin might receive too severe a shock from the surprise.
But the half-drowned man rubbed his eyes as if he could not believe them, then the next minute he pressed his little daughter to his heart, unable to speak a word.
What a wonderful scene it was!
The child almost unconscious in her father's arms, he almost dead from exhaustion, and the wife and mother too overcome to trust herself to believe it could be true.
Even the guards, who were busy again at the ropes, having left the man to willing hands on the beach, could not hide their surprise over the fact that it was mother, father, and daughter there united under such strange conditions.
"My darling, my darling!" exclaimed the sailor to Nellie, as he raised himself and then he saw his wife.
Mrs. Bobbsey had been holding Mrs. McLaughlin back, but now the sailor was quite recovered, so they allowed her to speak to him.
Mr. Bingham and Hal had been watching it all, anxiously.
"Are you McLaughlin?" suddenly asked Mr. Bingham.
"I am," replied the sailor.
"And is George Bingham out there?" anxiously asked the brother.
"Safe and well," came the welcome answer. "Just waiting for his turn to come in."
"Oh!" screamed Dorothy, "Hal's uncle is saved too. I guess our prayers were heard last night."
"Here comes another man!" exclaimed the people, as this time a big man dashed on the sands.
"All right!" exclaimed the man, as he landed, for he had had a good safe swing in, and was in no way exhausted.
"Hello there!" called Mr. Bingham: "Well, if this isn't luck. GeorgeBingham!"
Sure enough it was Hal's Uncle George, and Hal was hugging the big wet man, while the man was jolly, and laughing as if the whole thing were a good joke instead of the life-and-death matter it had been.
"I only came in to tell you," began George Bingham, "that we are all right, and the boat is lifting off the sand bar we stuck on. But I'm glad I came in to—the reception," he said, laughing. "So you've found friends, McLaughlin," he added, seeing the little family united. "Why, how do you do, Mrs. McLaughlin?" he went on, offering her his hand. "And little Nellie! Well, I declare, we did land on a friendly shore."
Just as Mr. Bingham said, the life-saving work turned out to be a social affair, for there was a great time greeting Nellie's father and Hal's uncle.
"Wasn't it perfectly splendid that Nellie and her mother were here!" declared Dorothy.
"And Hal and his father, too," put in Nan. "It is just like a story in a book."
"But we don't have to look for the pictures," chimed in Bert, who was greatly interested in the sailors, as well as in the work of the life-saving corps.
As Mr. Bingham told the guards it would not be necessary to haul any more men in, and as the sea was calm enough now to launch a life-boat, both Nellie's father and Hal's uncle insisted on going back to the vessel to the other men.
Nellie was dreadfully afraid to have her father go out on the ocean again, but he only laughed at her fears, and said he would soon be in to port, to go home with her, and never go on the big, wild ocean again.
Two boats were launched, a strong guard going in each, with Mr. McLaughlin in one and Mr. Bingham in the other, and now they pulled out steadily over the waves, back to the vessel that was freeing itself from the sand bar.
What a morning that was at Sunset Beach!
The happiness of two families seemed to spread all through the little colony, and while the men were thinking of the more serious work of helping the sailors with their vessel, the girls and women were planning a great welcome for the men who had been saved from the waves.
"I'm so glad we prayed," said little Flossie to Freddie, when she heard the good news.
"It was Uncle William prayed the loudest," insisted Freddie, believing, firmly, that to reach heaven a long and loud prayer is always best.
"But we all helped," declared his twin sister, while surely the angels had listened to even the sleepy whisper of the little ones, who had asked help for the poor sailors in their night of peril.
A beautiful day had grown out of the dreadful storm.
The sun seemed stronger each time it made its way out from behind a cloud, just as little girls and boys grow strong in body by exercise, and strong in character by efforts to do right.
And everybody was so happy.
TheNeptune—the vessel that had struck on the sand bar—was now safely anchored near shore, and the sailors came in and out in row-boats, back and forth to land, just as they wished.
Of course Captain Bingham, Hal's uncle, was at the Bingham cottage, and the first mate, Nellie's father, was at Minturn's.
But that evening there was a regular party on Minturn's veranda. Numbers of cottagers called to see the sailors, and all were invited to remain and hear about the strange voyage of theNeptune.
"There is not much to tell," began the captain. "Of course I knew we were going to have trouble getting that mahogany. Two vessels had been wrecked trying to get it, so when we got to the West Indies I decided to try canoes and not risk sails, where the wind always blew such a gale, it dragged any anchor that could be dropped. Well, it was a long, slow job to drag those heavy logs around that point, and just when we were making headway, along comes a storm that drove the schooner and canoes out of business."
Here Mate McLaughlin told about the big storm and how long it took the small crew to repair the damage done to the sails.
"Then we had to go back to work at the logs," went on the captain, "and then one of our crew took a fever. Well, then we were quarantined. Couldn't get things to eat without a lot of trouble, and couldn't go on with the carting until the authorities decided the fever was not serious. That was what delayed us so.
"Finally, we had every log loaded on the schooner and we started off. But I never could believe any material would be as heavy as that mahogany; why, we just had to creep along, and the least contrary wind left us motionless on the sea.
"We counted on getting home last week, when this last storm struck us and drove us out of our course. But we are not sorry for our delay now, since we have come back to our own."
"About the value?" asked Mr. Bobbsey, who was down from the city.
"The value," repeated the captain aside, so that the strangers might not hear. "Well, I'm a rich man now, and so is my mate, McLaughlin, for that wood was contracted for by the largest and richest piano firm in this country, and now it is all but delivered to them and the money in our hands."
"Then it was well worth all your sacrifice?" said Mr. Minturn.
"Yes, indeed. It would have taken us a lifetime to accumulate as much money as we have earned in this year. Of course, it was hard for the men who had families, McLaughlin especially; the others were all working sailors, but he was a landsman and my partner in the enterprise; but I will make it up to him, and the mahogany hunt will turn out the best paying piece of work he ever undertook."
"Oh, isn't it perfectly splendid!" declared Nan and Dorothy, hugging Nellie. "You will never again have to go back to that horrid store that made you so pale, and your mother will have a lovely time and nothing to worry about."
"I can hardly believe it all," replied their little friend. "But having father back is the very best of all."
"But all the same," sighed Dorothy, "I just know you will all be going home before we leave for the city, and I shall just die of loneliness."
"But we have to go to school," said Nan, "and we have only a few days more."
"Of course," continued Dorothy; "and our school will not open for two weeks yet."
"Maybe Aunt Emily will take you down to the city on her shopping tour," suggested Nan.
"Indeed I do not like shopping," answered the cousin. "Every time I go in a store that is crowded with stuff on the counters under people's elbows, I feel like knocking the things all over. I did a lot of damage that way once. It was holiday time, and a counter that stuck out in the middle of the store was full of little statues. My sleeve touched one, and the whole lot fell down as if a cannon had struck them. I broke ten and injured more than I wanted to count."
"And Aunt Emily had to pay for them?" said Nan.
"No, she didn't, either," corrected Dorothy. "The manager came up and said the things should not be put out in people's way. He made the clerks remove all the truck from the aisles and I guess everybody was glad the army fell down. I never can forget those pink-and-white soldiers," and Dorothy straightened herself up in comical "soldier's arms" fashion, imitating the unfortunate statues.
"I hope you can come to Lakeport for Thanksgiving," said Nan. "We have done so much visiting this summer, out to Aunt Sarah's and down here, mamma feels we ought to have a grand reunion at our house next. If we do, I am going to try to have some of the country girls down and give them all a jolly good time."
"Oh, I'll come if you make it jolly," answered Dorothy. "If there is one thing in this world worth while, it is fun," and she tossed her yellow head about like a buttercup, that has no other way of laughing.
That had been an eventful day at Ocean Cliff, and the happy ending of it, with a boat and its crew saved, was, as some of the children said, just like a story in a book, only the pictures were all alive!
The largest hotel at Sunset Beach was thrown open to the sailors that night, and here Captain Bingham and Mate McLaughlin, together with the rest of the crew, took up comfortable lodgings.
It was very late, long after the little party had scattered from Minturn's piazza, that the sailors finished dancing their hornpipe for the big company assembled to greet them in the hotel.
Never had they danced to such fine music before, for the hotel orchestra played the familiar tune and the sailors danced it nimbly, hitching up first one side then the other—crossing first one leg then the other, and wheeling around in that jolly fashion.
How rugged and handsome the men looked! The rough ocean winds had tanned them like bronze, and their muscles were as firm and strong almost as the cables that swing out with the buoys. The wonderful fresh air that these men lived in, night and day, had brightened their eyes too, so that even the plainest face, and the most awkward man among them, was as nimble as an athlete, from his perfect exercise.
"And last night what an awful experience they had!" remarked one of the spectators. "It is no wonder that they are all so happy to-night."
"Besides," added someone else, "they are all going to receive extra good pay, for the captain and mate will be very rich when the cargo is landed."
So the sailors danced until they were tired, and then after a splendid meal they went to sleep, in as comfortable beds as might be found in any hotel on Sunset Beach.
"I don't know how to say good-by to you," Nellie told Dorothy and Nan next morning. "To think how kind you have been to me, and how splendidly it has all turned out! Now father is home again, I can hardly believe it! Mother told me last night she was going to put back what money she had to use out of my prize, the fifty dollars you know, and I am to make it a gift to the Fresh Air Fund."
"Oh, that will be splendid!" declared Nan. "Perhaps they will buy another tent with it, for they need more room out at Meadow Brook."
"You are quite rich now, aren't you?" remarked Dorothy. "I suppose your father will buy a big house, and maybe next time we meet you, you will put on airs and walk like this?" and Dorothy went up and down the room like the pictures of Cinderella's proud sisters.
"No danger," replied Nellie, whose possible tears at parting had been quickly chased away by the merry Dorothy. "But I hope we will have a nice home, for mother deserves it, besides I am just proud enough to want to entertain a few young ladies, among them Miss Nan Bobbsey and Miss Dorothy Minturn."
"And we will be on hand, thank you," replied the joking Dorothy. "Be sure to have ice cream and chocolates—I want some good fresh chocolates. Those we get down here always seem soft and salty, like the spray."
"Come, Nellie," called Mrs. McLaughlin, "I am ready. Where is your hat?"
"Oh, yes, mother, I'm coming!" replied Nellie.
Bert had the donkey cart hitched and there was now no time to spare. Nellie kissed Freddie and Flossie affectionately, and promised to bring the little boy all through a big city, real fire-engine house when he came to see her.
"And can I ring the bell and make the horses jump?" he asked.
"We might be able to manage that, too," Nellie told him. "My uncle is a fireman and he can take us through his engine house."
Nan went to the station with her friends, and when the last good-bys were said and the train steamed out, the twins turned back again to the Minturn Cottage.
"Our turn next," remarked Bert, as he pulled the donkeys into the drive.
"Yes, it seems it is nothing but going and coming all the time. I wonder if all the other girls will be home at Lakeport in time for the first day of school?" said Nan.
"Most of them, I guess," answered Bert. "Well, we have had a good vacation, and I am willing to go to work again."
"So am I!" declared Nan. "Vacation was just long enough, I think."
Mr. Bobbsey was down from the city, of course, to take the family home, and now all hands, even Freddie and Flossie, were busy packing up. There were the shells to be looked after, the fish nets, besides Downy, the duck, and Snoop, the cat.
"And just to add one more animal to your menagerie," said Uncle William, "I have brought you a little goldfinch. It will sing beautifully for you, and be easy to carry in its little wooden cage. Then, I have ordered, sent directly to your house, a large cage for him to live in, so he will have plenty of freedom, and perhaps Christmas you may get some more birds to put in the big house, to keep Dick company."
Of course Freddie was delighted with the gift, for it was really a beautiful little bird, with golden wings, and a much prettier pet than a duck or a cat, although he still loved his old friends.
The day passed very quickly with all that was crowded into it: the last ocean bath taking up the best part of two hours, while a sail in Hal's canoe did away with almost as much, more time. Dorothy gave Nan a beautiful little gold locket with her picture in it, and Flossie received the dearest little real shell pocketbook ever seen. Hal Bingham gave Bert a magnifying glass, to use at school in chemistry or physics, so that every one of the Bobbseys received a suitable souvenir of Sunset Beach.
"You-uns must be to bed early and not go sleep in de train," insisted Dinah, when Freddie and Flossie pleaded for a little more time on the veranda that evening. "Come along now; Dinah hab lots to do too," and with her little charges the good-natured colored girl hobbled off, promising to tell Freddie how Nellie's father and Hal's uncle were to get into port again when they set out to sea, instead of trying to get the big boat into land at Sunset Beach.
And so our little friends had spent all their vacation.
The last night at the seashore was passed, and the early morning found them once more traveling away—this time for dear old home, sweet home.
"If we only didn't have to leave our friends," complained Nan, brushing back a tear, as the very last glint of Cousin Dorothy's yellow head passed by the train window.
"I hope we will meet them all soon again," said Nan's mother. "It is not long until Thanksgiving. Then, perhaps, we can give a real harvest party out at Lakeport and try to repay our friends for some of their hospitality to us."
"Well, I like Hal Bingham first-rate," declared Bert, thinking of the friend from whom he had just parted.
"There goes the last of the ocean. Look!" called Flossie, as the train made a turn, and whistled a good-by to the Bobbsey Twins at the Seashore.