"WE must have a regular scout meeting," announced Cleo. "We may get into trouble if we are not careful. Grace, have you rounded up all the True Treds?"
"I have," replied Grace, raising her finger in salute to the emergency captain. "They'll all be here at Rosabell, by eleven. And having Mary and Helen will give us a small troop."
"That's splendid. Mary and Helen are Tenderfoots, of course, but they know the duties. I can scarcely believe that girl would actually say the things we heard her say, and then to throw that box at Louise!"
"Just the same as pulling faces at us the first day we met her," said Grace. "I don't feel we ought to take her seriously. But you know there was another fire out Koto way last night, and it spoiled some lovely trees. Father says every one is so indignant about it, but never a person is found around to give a clue to the culprit."
"And she insinuated that we made the beach fire," said Cleo indignantly.
"Oh, that's pure nonsense, of course. But did you see how she acted when we asked her about the Weasle?"
"Yes, she knows about that note, I'm sure," said Cleo. "But then she thinks she knows a lot of things. She certainly lives over on the Island, and so she couldn't very well start fires at night?"
"But she rows like an Indian. Here come the girls. Now we will have a chance to talk it all over."
The arrival of Helen, Mary, Louise, and Julia completed the group, and presently a summer session of the True Treds was under way.
To the newcomers at Sea Crest the whole situation was explained, and nothing short of consternation followed its recital.
"Do you mean to say no one knows this girl?" asked Helen.
"No one we can find," replied Louise. "You see the whole town moves away when the summer folks come, all but the cleaners and the store keepers; and we didn't like to ask any of them."
"I'm sure Captain Dave must know this girl," declared Grace. "I'm going down to the station this very afternoon and have a talk with him."
"Saw him go out to Brightwater in a motor boat this morning," Louise said.
"Well, we simply have got to keep up our troop tactics until we run this down," declared Cleo. "Think of her saying we tried to drown the boy!"
"And she called him Bentley. That's rather a pretty name. He surely doesn't belong to her class," said Grace.
"But he too is odd, we must admit," resumed Louise, "and he had the very same kind of paper we found in the bottle."
"And his boat was covered with it," added Grace.
"But you really don't think he could be malicious enough to start fires?" asked Julia.
"I don't know," replied Grace. "They always say book-worms are queer, and surely he is a book-worm, if there ever was one."
"I propose taking a trip to that Looney Island," said Louise directly.
"I'd love to," followed Cleo; "but what about Captain Dave's warning?"
"What did he say?" inquired Mary.
"Why, he told us this Luna Island or Looney Land as the children call it, was a very good place to keep away from."
"Did he say why?" asked Helen.
"No; just hinted that children always feared to go over there, and he considers children the natural judges of danger. We know better.Here we are mere kiddies, and we are not a bit afraid," and she laughed at the idea.
"In fact, we are just dying to go. How do you get there?" This from Margaret.
"Take the launch to the point, then hire a boat and row over to the island. We saw 'the girl' do it. It's only a short distance."
"Sounds alluring," said Mary, who was now a splendidly healthy little girl, quite unlike the timid creature discovered by the girls in our second volume, "The Girl Scouts at Bellaire."
"You are almost chubby, Mary," remarked Grace. "I suppose you had a wonderful winter in the South with your folks."
"Oh yes, wonderful," replied Mary. "But I would rather have been to school in New York with you girls. Perhaps next fall I can enter with you."
"So it is all decided," prompted Helen. "We are to go to your Looney Land and capture the lunes. I wonder if we had not better bring a few brothers along?"
"As scouts we scorn a body guard!" replied Louise, "although it might be well to leave a lookout over at the point."
"When do we set out?" asked Julia, now as keen as her companions on the perilous expedition.
"That must depend on the weather," said Cleo. "We can't brave the waters with overhungskies. If I'm not mistaken I hear thunder this minute."
"Bring your wheels in," cautioned Grace. "Benny will put them in the garage. There! That surely sounded near by."
In the cyclonic way storms have of gathering near the ocean, clouds tumbled over clouds, piling mountains high, then dipping down in veritable spouts ready to empty their weight of water on the shrinking earth. The weather had been just warm enough to precipitate this sort of shower, and before the first drops fell people scurried for shelter, deserting piers, and board walk, as if swept away by the reckless west wind.
The Girl Scouts stayed on the porch until the lightning frightened them inside Rosabell cottage, then from the windows watched the vagaries of the summer storm.
A sudden blinding flash of lightning and its immediate clap of thunder drove the girls from the window.
"Oh!" shouted more than one. "Wasn't that awful!"
"Listen!" as a gong sounded. "The fire bell!" cried Grace. "Get your coats; see the crowd over there! Let's run."
Without a thought of the down-pouring rain, the Girl Scouts, garbed in such protective garments as they could snatch from the clothes-tree in the hall of Rosabell, raced over to coverthe short distance to the pavilion, where the crowd was seen to gather from all directions.
"What was struck?" Cleo asked a boy, who was trying to outdistance the bright red fire engine.
"The pier, I guess," he replied, dashing on merrily at the prospect of some real excitement.
A light film of smoke could now be seen steaming up through the rain at the end of the pier. But it was not likely a fire could make much headway in that downpour. The girls watched the rather primitive fire apparatus, with keen interest. Crowds of boys, numbers of men, and a scattering of girls and children, made the scene quite a lively one, to say nothing of the shouting of the volunteer firemen—the only grade that is allowed to shout at a fire. A line of hose was soon dragged out to the end of the pier, and almost before the happy urchins realized it the fire was out, back taps sounded from the tower in the village, and the fun was over.
After the crowd had dispersed and the shower was entirely over, the girls walked down the pier to inspect the damage. On one of the benches near the end, an old man sat huddled alone, his fishing rod was at his feet, and his basket was beside him on the bench. As they approached he stood up, then sank down again unable to keep to his feet.
"He must have been out here when the lightning struck," said Louise. "The poor old man!"
They came up to him and he smiled feebly.
"That was a big shower," said Helen by way of introduction.
"Mighty heavy, mighty heavy," he answered, his words short and his voice very low.
"Were you out here then?" asked Grace, beginning to realize that the old man must have been stunned.
"Yes, and—it near—finished me," he replied, again trying to stand but ending by sinking back on the bench, heavier than before.
"Oh, you poor old man!" said Julia. "We must help you home. Where do you live?"
"Couldn't help me home," he replied with a sigh. "I have a long walk along the sand, and then the boat. Don't see how I'm going to make it though. That flash just did me up," and he stooped to gather his fishing things that had evidently been scattered when the hose was run down the pier.
"Where do you live?" again asked Louise. "No matter how far away it is we can help you. We can take you in a car."
"No cars go out that way," said the fisherman, mistaking Louise's meaning.
"Oh, we mean in an automobile," she corrected. "Let us see if you can't lean on some of us while the others go for a car. We willbe glad to help you," she insisted, feeling the Girl Scout pledge surge over her.
It was quickly decided Grace should run for her sister Leonore, to get their car out, as Rosabell was the nearest cottage, and while she hurried off with Helen, Cleo and Louise assisted the old man to his feet. Meanwhile Mary and Julia gathered up his fishing outfit.
He was old and feeble at best, but now, after his fright and shock from the lightning, he seemed leaden, as he leaned on Cleo from one side, with Louise at the other.
Up the pier they led him, and at every step he either sighed because he had lost his power or blessed "the little girls who gave him a hand." It seemed to the scouts rather odd that no one had discovered his plight until they had found him, but after all, it was not hard to understand how an old fisherman could be overlooked in the excitement.
Leonore had driven up with the car, and before the stragglers around the pier could question them, the girls had their charge in the comfortable seat, where he lay back in very apparent relief.
"Which way?" inquired the young girl driving.
"To the river dock," called Grace; and all crowded in the roomy car, they started off with their strange passenger.
"NOW, don't trouble another bit," protested the old man when Leonore pulled into the little boat landing. "I'll take the next boat across, and be all right, thank you for helping me. You're a fine set of girls."
From the time they had left Borden's pier the girls had been tactfully trying to find out where he lived, and why they couldn't drive him directly to his place. But to all their inquiries he answered evasively, and was most positive in declaring they could not fetch him home.
"But you are scarcely able to walk," protested Helen. "Why won't you let us drive around there with you? You know this car can easily cover that distance in a few minutes."
"I'm sorry to seem ungrateful," he replied, and the girls noticed his voice was almost sobbing. "But I can't let you do it."
"And you live on that Luna Island?" queried Grace gently.
"I do, worse luck," he answered. "But wemust take things as they come. There's Jenning's boat. He'll bring me across."
They reluctantly assisted the aged passenger to alight and watched him climb into the rain-soaked launch. He stumbled and almost fell into the seat under the dripping canopy. Captain Jennings propped the leather cushions under his sagging arms, and as the girls turned away from the landing they heard the motor of the River Queen chug out.
"No wonder they call that place over there Looney Land," remarked Julia. "It seems to me we are all meeting more of its loons every day."
"We have come across quite a few," admitted Cleo. "But this old man was nice; I liked him."
"Why didn't you ask him for a pass to the island then?" remarked Louise. "That still seems to be forbidden territory."
"Yes, something like 'No Man's Land'. But did any one ever hear of 'No Scout's Land?' That's the beauty of belonging to a privileged organization."
"Queer thing how every one warns us to keep away from there," said Julia. "Every one but Bentley. Wonder what he would say if we asked him for a pass!"
"That's a brilliant idea, Julie," declared Margaret. "The very thing to do is to ask Ben."
"I knew that boy's name ought to be something with Ben in it," remarked Grace. "I seemed to outline it in his face when he reminded me of my own wild, but adorable little brother Ben. Of course, we never see our own boys down here except at meals, or we might get them to help us."
"We don't even get ours at meals," said Helen. "Mother says we might better all be in a hotel or boarding house, for all the home life we get out of our cottage."
"Let's stop at our place and finish up our scout meeting," suggested Cleo. "The storm sort of broke up our session."
So Leonore accommodatingly let them down in front of the Log Cabin, and on the spacious rustic porch there the interrupted meeting was again convened.
"Grace, if you are going to act as secretary, I think you should keep records. When our summer is over we shall enjoy looking back at them."
"All right," agreed Grace, preparing pencil and pad for notes.
"We must remember," cautioned Margaret, "that we are pledged to protect ourselves as well as others. Now, how do we know it is safe to go to that island? Suppose there is some disease there?"
"We must find out more definitely about that, of course," spoke up Mary, who was now aprofessed Tenderfoot. "It would be rash to run into some dreadful sickness."
"Also, we must question our motives and make sure we are not doing this out of rank curiosity," declared Louise sagely. "That would be silly, even if pardonable, and I don't think we could make a very creditable report to headquarters on such a pretense."
"Oh, that is clear enough," insisted Cleo. "It is just this way. We were confronted by this fire-bug thing, directly we struck the place, and its evidence has been piling up ever since. Every few nights a fire breaks out—and no one is able to discover the culprit."
"And that note we found was a challenge. It was written for who ever might pick it up, and we happened to be the 'whoevers'" said Louise. "So it plainly seems like our duty to run down the Weasle."
"But just why would you think the writer was on the island?" asked Helen, who, having come down late was not entirely familiar with all the details of the situation.
"We haven't any positive reason for that supposition," admitted Margaret; "but things point that way, and we must run down that clue first. Besides, it is very strange how every one warns us to keep away from Luna Land. It makes it fascinating, to say the least."
"Almost a good reason for going," remarked Mary. "And now girls, will you come over tothe hotel this evening, if you are free from other engagements? We are going to have a children's entertainment in the ball room, and I would love to have every one come."
"But our dresses?" asked Grace. "What should we wear?"
"It's a novelty thing, and you can wear whatever you please," answered Mary.
"How about all going as a troop? We would advertise the scouts, and it's lovely and cool now after that shower."
"Oh, that would be splendid!" enthused Mary. "Since all the war work has moved off the earth nothing seems to have really taken the uniform's place. And as you say, it will be wonderfully cool to-night."
"And another positive advantage to uniform is that one can't out-do the other in togs. I love that," declared Helen, "although we all have pretty party dresses."
So the True Treds scattered, keen with the anticipation of novelty night at the Colonade.
It is safe to guess that in the short time intervening there was much activity in each scout's home, in the matter of pressing uniforms, for even "going as a troop" would mean public inspection. Yet this amount of work was comparatively small compared with what might have been their task had dancing dresses been demanded.
Into the gold and white ball-room of theColonade the True Treds were ushered with quite an imposing ceremony a few hours later; and if Grace and Cleo wanted to giggle, the pomposity of the uniformed functionaries forbade any such frivolity.
Mary was there to welcome them, and with her was her fashionable aunt, Miss Constance Hastings, who was also distantly related to Cleo, through the marriage of Cleo's aunt to Mary's father's brother—remote but definite, just the same.
A perceptible stir was occasioned by the entrance of the girls; and since they were really quite a small troop, they walked in in pairs. Grace and Cleo led, then came Margaret and Louise, Julia and Helen, besides Isabel Gantor and Elizabeth Bissell, two True Treds who had come down that very afternoon, and altogether they made a fine showing for the scouts.
After the first flush of excitement the usual exchange of compliments occupied the girls. Cleo had grown so much taller, every one thought so, and her gray eyes and fair hair were really "a lot prettier." Grace had better be careful or she would get stout, why not roll on the beach every day? Elizabeth suggested this, while the tables were then turned on Elizabeth herself, who was declared to be far from thin.
"I am not getting fat," declared the jolly little Elizabeth. "I'm simply warped from beingout in the rain. You should see my farm."
Then Helen was warned that such beautiful coloring as glowed in her cheeks, and such shadows as lurked under her dark eyes would some day put her in the class of distinguished foreigners, but when she protested that Irish are not so considered, and that those characteristics were hers because of that sort of connection, the girls passed her by as "satisfactory."
The opening strains of the orchestra prohibited further exchange of compliments or criticism, and the scouts paired off for a lively trot.
All the dance seemed suited to their uniforms, in fact, most steps were then executed with some precision, rather military in effect.
All about them buzzed the fairy-like children in such gorgeous styles, as seem specially concocted for big summer hotels; and resting between dances our girls had plenty of opportunity to observe the variety of plumage under which the little summer birds flew.
It was during intermission that the master of ceremonies approached Isabel; she happened to be the tallest of the scouts, and he asked her if they would favor the company with some troop manœuvers, but on consulting the other girls they declined to do so.
"You see," Mary explained, as she was best acquainted with the hotel staff, "we could notdo anything in public as a troop without permission. And while this is almost a private gathering, we feel it best to adhere to the rules."
"Still it was flattering to be asked," commented Cleo.
"Let's go out on the porch," suggested Mary. "We will have a beautiful view of the ocean to-night."
But it so happened that something else than the scenic effect entertained them, on the spacious side porch of the Colonade that evening.
THEY felt quite like grown-ups out there in the moonlight, on the carpeted piazzas, with the music from the ballroom wafting out through the many open windows.
Here and there in sheltered nooks, knots of young folks buzzed their confidences, while the scouts chose two long, low divans,directlyoff the exchange, where they might at once enjoy the music of the waves and the rhythm of the orchestra.
It all seemed too pleasant to mar with ordinary conversation, so holding hands as girls will, the companions sank down to enjoy the wonderful summer night.
They were not more than settled when two young men sauntered out of the smoking room and took the seat just back of their divan. The girls nudged each other, and squeezed hands, but did not emit the usual warning cough.
"Well, I am glad to hear from Dick," spoke one of the men; "I tell you, he did great work in our little old war."
"You-bet-y'u," replied the second voice, slurring his words together as young men do, and giving them that jolly twang peculiar to the college boy.
"Yes, sir, Dick Gordon is some boy, and I'll be mighty glad to see him."
Grace almost pinched Cleo's arm to the yelling point. "That's my Jackie—the one who owns my marine room," she said in a low voice.
"Keep your window locked," cautioned Cleo.
"And he's still on the blue?" went on the masculine voice.
"Still is—you-bet-cha," replied his companion. "Regular Willie off the yacht, only he's bound to be Richard on the yacht. Seems some millionaire family he knew—there may be a girl in it—prevailed on him to take a yacht out this summer, so he's sailing her—the yacht I mean; I'm only guessing at the girl."
Isabel coughed audibly. It was just like her to do so and she either had to cough or laugh, and she hastily decided on expressing herself in the least conspicuous outburst.
For a few minutes the young men ceased speaking, and in the interval the girls undertook to carry on something like a conversation; at least they were endeavoring to make their presence known to the other occupants of that corner of the porch.
Thus establishing a general hum of voices, remarks from the young men only floated in asthe girls might pause, or giggle, or hesitate about staying longer from the dance floor.
"So old Dick will be back before summer sundown?" they heard.
"Sure thing, you bet'cha," replied the second voice, "and we'll all be here to give the cheers."
"But the Gordon place is rented. Wonder what Dick will do without all his junk?"
"That's so. Well, we can bring him here. All the gang will be back by that time."
"Heard when and where he comes in?"
"Depends upon the yachters, of course. But Dick said something about a lady's good health or bad health, I forgot which."
A bevy of young ladies now discovered the youths who had been thus enjoying a smoke and talk, and the boys were promptly carried off to the ball room, where the strains of an alluring waltz were floating.
"Now Gracie, see what's going to happen?" exclaimed Louise, as soon as talking thus was safe. "Your adorable Dick of the marine room is coming back on a yacht, and he's going to miss his junk."
"And maybe he'll give us a sail on the millionaire's yacht!" suggested Grace.
"See that it includes every True Tred. There, I believe the grown-ups are breaking in on our evening," complained Mary. "Let's make a march out of that waltz."
"Don't you have wonderful times here, Mary?" asked Grace, entering the brilliant room again.
"Yes, but I can't say that I like it better than a simple home life," replied Mary. "We travel so much, and it's hotel all the time——"
"But you are going to spend next week with me," interrupted Cleo. "I hardly realize it yet that you are my really truly coz," and she gave the girl's long, brown braids a familiar twerk.
"Whatever did you do with old Reda?" asked Grace, referring to the picturesque nurse who played so important a part in our second volume, "The Girl Scouts of Bellaire."
"Daddy made her comfortable for life," replied Mary. "He considered she had done everything that she know how to do for me, and mother's folks decided she would be happier among her own people. But Aunt Constance asked me to bring you up to her sitting room to-night, and as soon as you have had enough of this, suppose we go up?"
It was well the sitting room was spacious, for the scouts numbered quite a company. However the wealthy Miss Hastings greeted them warmly, and seemed greatly interested in their organization.
"I can never forget how you discovered our little Mary for us," she said, placing her hand lovingly on Mary's shoulder, "and if ever Ican do anything to help you, please let me know. It is splendid to have girls united under such principles. Mary has charmed me with her interpretations of your little manual."
They thanked Miss Hastings for her interest, and smiled over the compliments. The girls were quite bewildered with the luxurious surroundings. Everything seemed so velvety, and so much cushioned, and all this was enhanced by the soft glitter of the shaded lights, and the rose-tinted glow of the color scheme. Here, at least, scout uniform seemed out of place.
Miss Hastings was what we might discreetly call a mellow blonde, not implying or imputing anything artificial to her blondness. She had the very softest blue eyes, and wore the daintiest orchid tint gown; but in spite of her apparent luxury, she instantly inspired the girls with a feeling of ease and confidence.
Mary fluttered about, displaying such trophies of her southern tour as might safely be carried to her hotel abode; and when the sight-seeing was done, Cleo exacted a promise from Miss Hastings, that Mary might spend a complete week with her.
This was the signal for a perfect flood of similar invitations, and when the girls left the suite, their evening dance cards were well marked with dates to visit and dates to entertain Mary Dunbar, Cleo's popular cousin.
"What worries me is that Dick boy comingover in the yacht," remarked Isabel jokingly. "Seems to me Grace is in for a wonderful time."
"But he may be on shore leave," added Julia, "then he wouldn't be any more attractive than our 'you-bet-chu' chap," she said, indicating the young man who inserted that boyish expression so often in his conversation.
The children were leaving the ballroom when the scouts took their final drink of pink lemonade, as Grace insisted on calling the fruit punch, and as they came out to the porch for their "good-nights," mothers and nurses were gathering the fluttering little ones to their arms.
They were about to leave when a shrill voice from the hall startled every one, "Oh, come quick, a doctor! My baby is choking!"
A mother uttered the cry. In an instant every one was in confusion looking for a doctor, but it so happened in all that big hotel at the moment no physician could be found.
"What shall I do!" wailed the mother, now wringing her hands and begging for help. "I don't know how—to save—my darling!"
Quick as a flash Julia broke away through the crowd and, followed by Louise and Helen, she made her way to the room of the distracted parent and the suffering child.
On the bed lay the little child, gasping, choking, his face almost purple. No one had attempted to do anything but look on in horror,as people usually do under such exciting conditions.
Julia, however, summoned all her courage and her scout training, and grabbing the little one before she had a chance to suffer from hesitation, she held his little heels high as she could stretch them, and shook him vigorously, while the distracted mother looked on in consternation. When the Girl Scout's strength failed, and she allowed the child to sink down on the bed again, the safety pin, he had almost swallowed, lay beside him on the coverlet.
It was all over in so few minutes that Louise and Helen merely looked on to encourage Julia.
"Oh, my darling, my darling!" wailed the excited mother. "Are you alive? Does he breathe?"
"He will be all right directly," said Helen, surprising herself with her own calmness. "Just give him plenty of air."
By now those who had assembled in idle curiosity had dispersed, leaving room for the other scouts to come within sight of the open door.
Quickly as the chubby youngster recovered his breath he made a grab at the neck tie that floated from Julia's blouse. Then he wanted to play with the buttons on her skirt, and he evinced such other evidence of good fellowship that every one stood by in silent admiration.
The mother, however, had recovered her composuresufficiently to thank Julia; and this she did most profusely.
"What would I have done?" she asked. "I simply went to pieces, in a perfect panic, when I saw that boy choke. Oh, here is Neal," turning to greet a young man who just entered the room. "Neal, do come and meet these wonderful little girls. They saved the baby brother. In another moment, I am sure, he would have strangled."
And before them stood one of the young men who had entertained them unawares on the West porch, an hour earlier. He added his thanks to those of his mother, while the baby brother kicked delightedly on the badly tossed bed.
"And you knew more about it than mother," he remarked, a note of incredulity in his voice. "But I see you are scouts. They teach you emergency stunts in your organization, I suppose."
"Yes," replied Julia covered with confusion and anxious to escape; and escape she did directly the good-looking Neal stepped aside, and bowed the girls graciously into the corridor.
"I almost choked myself," admitted Louise.
"I will do so yet," declared Helen.
"AS a quiet evening it was a cyclone," said Julia to her congratulating companions. "I really was not sure whether I should shake both the heels at once, or in rapid succession, but when I saw that safety pin—oh, girls!" and she pretended to slink down into the supporting arms offered her.
"Whether premeditated or a mere accident you did nobly," declared Margaret, "and I shouldn't wonder if handsome young Neal wouldn't want to join our troop. Isn't he stunning looking?"
"But he is the friend of marine Richard—he who is coming in on the millionaire's yacht," put in Grace. "Therefore Julia, you and I shall divide the honors. Joking aside girls, what is our program for the morrow?"
"Bathing, of course—high tide at ten-thirty," announced Julia.
"After that we will pay a call at Captain Dave's Life Saving Station," said Cleo. "In fact we can run over there from the beach. Wehave simply got to find out all he knows about Luna Island."
They were on their way home from the Colonade, and as it was still early, the streets were populated with summer visitors just leaving the pavilions, the boardwalks, picture theaters, or hotels. Each scout leaving the group left one less to the usual "last tag" game, which again became of interest to the young girls, not yet too dignified to enjoy such pleasure romps.
Next morning at the beach a number of new arrivals were added to the list of their companions, as each day now brought its own quota of visitors to the popular summer resort, and it was surely "the more the merrier."
"Good swimming in the cove," announced Cleo, "at least we call it the cove, but it's really a little lake, made smooth by the banked up sand bar. Come on everybody, up to Third Avenue."
Surf boards added to the sport, and while every morning was a holiday at the beach, to-day seemed something of legal type; such a wonderfully merry time the colonists were enjoying. All the scouts were swimmers; Grace as usual was daring to the point of risk, Cleo quickly followed every prank she initiated, and the others found plenty of fun either attempting to follow, or originating their own brand of frolic.
What is more alluring than the ocean on the right sort of summer day? Beyond the bar steamers could just be seen emitting their long, smoky ribbons over the water, that from the distance seemed so close to the sky as to be merely a first floor with that blue mottled ceiling. A few daring swimmers would work their way out in canoes, taking the rollers at constant risk of submersion, then come sailing in like a shot, never making a break in the dash until past the bathers, and out on the very beach each little bark would triumphantly land. This was great sport, but few girls were brave enough to indulge in it.
The life savers, two stalwart youths, so bronzed as to glisten in the sun like copper models—sat on the high bench under the big beach sunshade. They could see above the heads of the crowds, far out past the danger line, and theirs was the responsibility of keeping track of every foolish boy, or more foolish girl, who ventured beyond the ropes.
At last the scouts did get together, and made a run through the wet sand, along the edge toward the fishing pier, and from there it was only a matter of crossing the street to reach the life saving station.
In a trot, popular as exercise after bathing, all four girls, Louise, Grace, Cleo and Julia started off. The far end of the bathing beach was now deserted, the hour approaching lunchor dinner always exacting the dressing process, hotel guests especially, being obliged to report in the dining-room on time.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," begged Cleo. "I thought I saw a piece of pink coral."
"Pink coral doesn't grow around here," protested Grace. "You likely saw a blushing fish bone. Don't bother with it. You know how we made out with the pink crabs."
"Yes," put in Julia. "Let's change our color scheme. Here's a lovely amethyst shell."
The trot was started up again, heads erect, shoulders back, and elbows in—regular marathon for the beach on this perfect summer's day.
"Look here!" called Cleo. "Here's another message about—fire-bugs. See it spells: 'L-O-O-K O-U-T'" she figured it out in the sand. "There, would you ever think one would be so daring?"
They all paused to read the letters so crudely forked in the wet sand.
"Yes," insisted Julia. "There's 'bug.' Guess they didn't dare write the word 'fire'."
A lone figure on a lone bench up near the boardwalk attracted their attention at the same moment.
"If there isn't our boy!" exclaimed Louise. "Now, doesn't that almost prove him guilty?"
"No, it doesn't," objected his champion, Grace. "He's too far away—besides——"
"Any one could make letters in the sand," put in Julia. "Think of the hundreds of children who played here all morning. Come on," and she started the race again.
But they had scarcely gone a hundred yards when she stopped very suddenly.
"Oh, mercy!" she screamed. "I stepped on——"
"You bet you did! You stepped on me!"
The answer came from a grotesque figure that had just pulled itself out of the sand, and it was none other than the girl, still known only as "Letty."
"I didn't mean to," apologized Julia, for, as a matter of fact, she had come full weight on the sand hill under which was buried the girl.
"Well, you didn't break any bones," said the girl, with less antagonism than she had formerly displayed. "But I thought the sky fell—guess I was dreaming."
She dragged herself up and shook the sand from her unkempt skirt, although the action seemed unnecessary, then grinned at the girls in the most comic way.
This was a signal for Grace to howl, and howl she did, to be followed by the others, every one seeming glad that Letty had not "thrown her head at them," as was her usual attitude in meeting the scouts.
"And you go swimmin' in there?" she asked, pointing a mocking finger at the ocean.
"Surely, don't you?" asked Louise.
"Me? Well, I guess not. No more ocean for Kitty," and she turned her back to the waves, meanwhile pulling a long, wry face.
"Are you Kitty?" asked Cleo.
"Yep, that's me. They call me Kitty Scuttle, but Scuttle ain't my name. Boys give me that 'cause I shoo them off the island."
Here was an opening. Louise seized it.
"Sit down and tell us about it, Kitty," she said. "You know we really had no idea of bothering your dove the other day. Did his leg fix up all right?"
"Guess so, but he ain't my bird," and she did actually flop down in the sand, much to their surprise.
"Why don't you like the ocean?" asked Grace.
"The ocean is a coward. It fights women and babies," she said, a queer mocking irony marking her words.
"Yes," agreed Louise, to placate her, "the ocean is treacherous."
"An' cruel," she sort of hissed. "I came from that ocean on a rope once, and I'll never go back on it while I'm alive."
"Oh, you were shipwrecked," ventured Cleo, her mind running to the story of the little girl on the frozen mother's breast, told them by Captain Dave.
"Yes, Mom never spoke to me again, and I hate that ocean ever since."
The girls exchanged glances. Surely she must be the one spoken of by Captain Dave.
"But you like still-water?" suggested Grace, in order to relieve the tension.
"Love the little Round River, Glimmer Lake, and even the bay," replied Kitty, "but not that monster."
It seemed to the scouts she used a queer mixture of phrases. Cleo thought she might be addicted to reading sensational books.
"Do you go to school?" queried Julia.
"Sure, every one has to go to school, and I don't stay on the island in winter." This last was said in a tone implying every one ought to know that.
"You come over here in winter?" It was Louise who dared press that question. They all felt Kitty was due to take another tantrum any minute. She had been almost dangerously good, so far.
"Yep," the finality of this spoke for itself.
"We're just going over to the life saving station to see Captain Dave," said Cleo. "Glad we didn't hurt you as we ran."
"Couldn't," said Kitty. "I don't hurt. Nothin' touches me. And say, I wasn't mad when I pegged the box at you the other day. I was just funnin'."
"You didn't hurt me either," returnedLouise, quite as good-naturedly. "A little pasteboard box couldn't hurt a scout."
"Do you belong to the government?" asked Kitty suddenly.
"We're not enlisted, if that's what you mean," answered Cleo, "but we learn to give service if it is needed."
"I'd like a suit like yours. Must be fine for fogs. Sometimes I can't get into my rags they're so soggy over there in the woods."
Every one silently agreed such clothes as she possessed would surely become "soggy" under the trees.
"But only a scout can wear the uniform," said Grace, being careful to use a very kindly tone.
"What do you have to do?" inquired Kitty, evincing interest.
"When we meet you again we'll tell you about it," replied Louise. "But, say Kitty, we want to take a trip over to the island some day. Shall we see you over there?"
"To the island!" she shouted, and all her gentleness was gone instantly. "Don't you dare; the dogs would eat you up!"
"Oh, no, we don't mind dogs," Cleo hurried to say. "Besides, you must know them and you could keep them in check."
"Oh, no, I couldn't," she was plainly excited now. "Don't you dare come over to Looney Land. The reason I liked you was on account ofyou fetching Uncle Pete up from the pier. He told me, and I was—thankful."
She hung her head and her cropped hair stood out like a brush around her face. Kitty was a pathetic sight, even when excited.
"Was he your uncle? Is he all right?" asked Louise.
"Nope. He isn't all right. Can't hardly stir ever since. He said he would have died if you girls hadn't helped him, and I want to thank you for that. I'd just die without Uncle Pete."
"Well, good-by," said Julia, as they started off this time positively. "Tell Uncle Pete we will come over to see him soon."
At this the child ran over to Louise and literally grabbed her, seizing her two hands, and holding them as tightly as her own could grasp them.
"Oh, please, please don't come!" she begged, and her eyes had the look of a frightened animal. "You don't know what it would mean to me. And I ask you not to. Won't you promise?"
The girls looked at the changed creature in undisguised astonishment.
"We don't want to bring trouble on you, Kitty, if that is what you mean," said Julia. "But we have promised ourselves a trip to that queer island. Of course, if it would hurt you for us to go——"
"Oh, it would, that's it. It would hurt memore than you could guess. So tell me you won't come over!"
"All right, we'll see," said Cleo, and they hurried off to the bathing house to dress, as the time for visiting Captain Dave had been consumed in talking to Kitty.
"Well, what do you think of that?" almost gasped Cleo when they joined the other girls who had been impatiently waiting for the report from the life saving station.
"Whatever is wrong about Luna Land?" added Louise. "Now see where we are at."
"Can't we go?" pouted Grace.
"I don't see why not," put in Julia. "Surely, we couldn't make any trouble, just by going over there. I think that girl is—woozy."
"Well, I think she's pretty sharp," said Cleo, "and until we can find out from some one what is wrong over there, I'll vote to defer the trip. Suppose we really should bring trouble on that poor cropped head!"
"That's so," agreed Grace, though it was plain the change in plans brought disappointment to the entire group. "Let's hurry. We must have talked half an hour. And I promised not to be one minute late for lunch."
"We have such a time with meals—never can get folks together," said Cleo, hastily jumping in to her blouse and skirt.
"All the same," insisted Margaret, "we must go to the life saving station right after lunch."
"And how about our tennis game? We promised Mary, you know, to go over for a couple of sets this afternoon."
"We never seem to get to tennis," deplored Louise. "But let's all meet at Borden's at two o'clock, and then we can decide what to do."
"There's Leonore looking for me," called out Grace.
"And there's Jerry looking for me," added Cleo.
"Come on girls, pile in, plenty of room," called Gerald; and those who did not run to his car flocked to the one driven by Leonore, so that the belated scouts made good time, then at least, in getting to their respective cottages.