"Cannot locate Will Ford at Jacksonville address given. Am holding the twenty-five dollars subject to your order. Party was at address noted, but information to our agent here is to effect that young man left in company with a labor contractor who does not bear a very goodreputation. Young man's boarding mistress worried. What shall we do?"
"Cannot locate Will Ford at Jacksonville address given. Am holding the twenty-five dollars subject to your order. Party was at address noted, but information to our agent here is to effect that young man left in company with a labor contractor who does not bear a very goodreputation. Young man's boarding mistress worried. What shall we do?"
The message was to Mr. Ford. It was from Jacksonville, and was signed by the telegraph operator there.
"Will is missing again!" sobbed Grace. "Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?"
For one of the very few times in her life when confronted by an emergency the "Little Captain" did not know quite what to do. Grace clung to Betty, murmuring over and over again:
"What shall I say? What shall I do?"
Amy and Mollie stared uncomprehendingly at one another. Grace still held the telegram that had brought more bad news.
Then Betty got her senses in working order.
"In the first place," she said, "you mustn't let your mother know about this, Grace. You must keep it from her. In the second place your father must be told at once. Now you go in and act as if nothing had happened. I'll go see your father."
"But I can't act as if nothing had happened," protested Grace, with a wailing tone in her voice. "I'd be sure to act so strangely that mamma would suspect at once, and begin to question me."
"Then Mollie or Amy must go in with you,and help to keep up appearances. Amy, you go in and talk—play—sing—dance—do anything to keep Grace from feeling bad, and giving away the secret. As soon as Mr. Ford comes he can decide whether or not to tell his wife. Mollie, you and I will go down to his office. This is the night he gets home late; isn't it, Grace?"
"Yes. Oh, how I wish he were here now! Poor Will!"
"Well, we'll soon have him home," declared Betty. "Now you two do as I tell you. Talk about Florida—anything but what has happened. Mr. Ford will know what to do when he comes. Now, Mollie, let's hurry. Gracious! I believe it's going to snow. Well, we won't have any of that in Florida, that's a blessing for you, Grace," and Betty smiled bravely.
"We may never go now—if Will isn't found."
"Oh, he'll be all right," declared Betty, with more confidence than she felt. "Come along, Mollie."
The two set off through the gathering storm, while Grace and Amy turned into the former's house. They were under a strain, and afterward they hardly remembered what they did. But Grace did not betray the secret, at any rate. The two girls talked of many things, and when Mrs. Ford referred to the home-coming of herson Amy changed the subject as soon as she could.
Then, fortunately, Mrs. Ford went upstairs to lie down until dinner was ready, and Grace, with a sigh of relief, threw herself on a couch.
"There!" she sighed. "We can act naturally now. Poor little mother—I wonder how she will take it?"
"Oh, she is brave," said Amy. "Besides, nothing very dreadful can have happened. Will may be all right. Even if he has gone off with a labor contractor, who has a bad reputation, your brother is able to look after himself. He can appeal to the police, if necessary."
"Perhaps. Anyhow, you can look on the bright side, Amy. I wish papa would hurry."
"Oh, he will, as soon as Betty tells him."
Meanwhile Betty and Mollie were hurrying on through the storm to Mr. Ford's office. They found him working over a complicated law case, and he seemed startled when he saw the two girls.
"Where is Grace—what has happened?" he asked, quickly.
"This telegram—it came for you to the house—Grace opened it," explained Mollie, briefly.
Mr. Ford seemed to comprehend it at a glance.
"I was afraid of this!" he exclaimed. "Some of those rascally labor contractors will do anything to get help. I will have to go down there, I think. Does Mrs. Ford know?"
"No, I told Grace to keep it from her until you came home."
"That was right. I must make light of this. Then I'll leave for Jacksonville at once. Thank you very much, Betty."
He closed his desk and went out with the girls, calling a carriage for them and himself, as the snow was now falling heavily.
In some way Mr. Ford managed to impart some of the details of the newemergencyto his wife without unduly arousing her. He also spoke of the necessity of going to Florida.
"Oh, do you really have to go?" his wife asked, in alarm.
"I think it will be better. Will may do something rash, thinking he is putting through a fine business deal. I don't want him to get into—legal difficulties. It would not look well for my professional reputation," and Mr. Ford forced a laugh to reassure his wife.
Arrangements for going to Jacksonville were soon made, as he was to leave on the midnight train. In the meanwhile he communicated with the telegraph authorities in the South, telling them of his plans, and asking for any additional information.
All that he could learn was that Will had gone to the address given in his first letter—a private boarding house. He had been there a few days, making friends with the landlady, and finally had gone off with a man who bore a shady reputation in the city. Will had said he was going farther into the interior, and the woman thought she heard something about a lumber camp, or a place where turpentine and other pine-tar products, were obtained.
"Well, do the best you can, Grace, until I come back," said Mr. Ford. "And look after your mother. Perhaps this will be all right after all."
There were three weary days of waiting, relieved only by brief messages from Mr. Ford, saying that he was doing all he could to find Will. Mrs. Ford was not told the whole story, save that her son had gone into the interior.
"Oh, I'm sure something must have happened!" exclaimed Grace, when on the fourth day there came a message saying Mr. Ford was on his way back. "He hasn't Will with him, or he would have said so. Oh, isn't it perfectly terrible!"
"Now, don't worry," advised Betty. "I know that is easy to say, Grace, and hard to do. But try. Even if your father hasn't found Will, perhaps he has some trace of him. He would hardly come back without good reason."
"I suppose not. Oh, aren't boys—terrible!"
"But Will didn't mean to cause all this trouble," spoke Mollie.
"I know. But he has, just the same."
Grace was too miserable even to think of chocolates.
Mr. Ford looked pale and tired when he came home, and his eyes showed loss of sleep.
"Well," he said to Grace, who was surrounded by her three chums, "I didn't find Will. He seems to have made a mess of it."
"How?" asked his sister.
"Well, by getting in with this developing concern. It seems that he signed some sort of contract, agreeing to work for them. He supposed it was clerical or secretary's work, but it turns out that he was deceived. What he signed was a contract to work in one of the many camps in the wilds of the interior. He may be getting out cypress, or turpentine."
"Couldn't you locate him, Daddy?" asked Grace.
"No, for the firm he signed with operates many camps. I could get very little satisfaction from them. I may have to appeal to the authorities."
"But Will is not of age—they can't hold him even if he did sign a contract to work, especially when they deceived him," declared Grace.
"I know it, my dear," replied her father. "But they have him in their clutches, and possession, as you know, is nine points of the law, and part of the tenth. Where Will is I don't know. Just as the message said, he went off with that smooth talker, and he seems to have disappeared."
"How—how can you find him?" asked Grace.
"I'm going to have your Uncle Isaac trace him. He knows the South better than I, and can work to better advantage. That is why I came back. Uncle Isaac is in New York City now. I am going to telegraph him to come on here and I'll give him the particulars. Then he can hunt for Will. Poor boy! I guess he wishes now that he'd stayed in the mill."
The news was broken to Mrs. Ford as gently as could be, but it nearly prostrated her. Then Uncle Isaac came, and to his credit be it said that he was kinder than his wont. He seemed really sympathetic and did not once say, "I told you so!"
He readily agreed to search for his nephew, and left for the South as soon as he could finish his business.
"I guess our Florida trip is all off," said Grace with a sigh, one evening.
"Not at all," said her father. "I want you girls to go. It may be that you might hear some word of Will."
"Then we will go!" his sister cried. "Oh! I do hope we can find him."
The preparations for the Florida trip went on. Meanwhile nothing was heard from the missing youth, and Uncle Isaac had no success.
Then, most unexpectedly, there came word from the boy himself—indirect word—but news just the same.
It was in the shape of a letter from a Southern planter, who said one of his hands had picked up the enclosed note in a cotton field near a railroad track. It had probably been tossed from a train window, and had laid some time in the field, being rain-soaked. It bore Mr. Ford's address, and so the planter forwarded it. The note was as follows:
"Dear Dad: I certainly am in trouble. That development business was a fake, and I have literally been kidnapped, with a lot of other young fellows—some colored. They're taking us away to a turpentine swamp to work. I've tried to escape, but it's no use. I appealed for help tothe crowd, as did some of the others, but the contractors declared we were a lot of criminals farmed out by the State. And, as a lot of their workers really are convicts, I had no show. I don't know what to do—help me if you can. I don't know where they're taking us, but if I get a chance I'll send word. I'm scribbling this under my hat in the train, and I'm going to toss it out the window. I hope you get it."Will."
"Dear Dad: I certainly am in trouble. That development business was a fake, and I have literally been kidnapped, with a lot of other young fellows—some colored. They're taking us away to a turpentine swamp to work. I've tried to escape, but it's no use. I appealed for help tothe crowd, as did some of the others, but the contractors declared we were a lot of criminals farmed out by the State. And, as a lot of their workers really are convicts, I had no show. I don't know what to do—help me if you can. I don't know where they're taking us, but if I get a chance I'll send word. I'm scribbling this under my hat in the train, and I'm going to toss it out the window. I hope you get it.
"Will."
Grace was in tears when her father finished reading Will's pathetic letter. Nor were the eyes of her chums altogether dry, for they all liked Will, who seemed as much a brother to them as he did to his own sister.
"We—we mustn't let mamma know this," announced Grace, when she had regained control of herself. "It would prostrate her."
"Yes, we must keep it from her if we can," agreed Mr. Ford.
"To think of poor Will being in with—with criminals," went on his sister. "It will be a terrible experience for him."
"Perhaps they are not desperate criminals," suggested Amy, as a sort of ray of hope.
"No, I do not believe they are," said Mr. Ford, frankly. "The State would not let contractors hire them if they were. I suppose they are mostly young men who have been guilty ofslight violations of the law, and hard work is the best punishment for them. But I certainly am sorry for Will.
"I had no idea that when, to punish him for what was more thoughtlessness than anything else, I sent him South, it would turn out this way. I regret it very much."
"But it wasn't your fault, Daddy," declared Grace. "It just couldn't be helped. But Will is brave—his letter shows that. Oh, can you help him?"
"I certainly shall, daughter," and Mr. Ford put his hand on Grace's head, now bowed in grief. "I will write to Uncle Isaac at once, and have him get in touch with the authorities. They should be able to tell where the different gangs of prisoners have been sent, and by investigating each one we can, by elimination, find Will. Then it will be an easy matter to get him home. And I think he will be very glad to see Deepdale again, in spite of the fact that he wanted to start out for himself to 'make good.' I hope the lesson will not be too hard for him."
"If we could only do something!" exclaimed Betty.
"Yes, girls always seem so—sohelplessat a time like this," murmured Mollie. "Oh, I wish I were a—man!"
"Tut—tut!" exclaimed Mr. Ford, with a laugh, something he had seldom indulged in of late. "We couldn't get along without our girls. You can offer sympathy, if nothing else, and often that is something as real as actual service. But I don't agree that you girls are helpless. You have proved in the past that you outdoor lassies can do things, and I would not be surprised in the future if you gave further evidence of it."
Though he spoke rather lightly, Mr. Ford little realized how soon the time was to come when the outdoor girls were to prove their sterling worth in a peculiar manner.
"Well, things are certainly taking a queer turn," said Grace as she looked at the scribbled letter of her brother, so strangely forwarded to them. "There is no telling how long ago this was written. Poor Will is probably having a hard time this very minute."
"He probably is if he's at work in a turpentine camp," said Mr. Ford. "It is no easy work, and it is no wonder the contractors have to take criminals, and fairly kidnap their helpers. Then they have to literally mount guard over them to force them to remain. But I must start things moving to aid Will."
Letters were written to Uncle Isaac, to theplanter who had so kindly forwarded the letter, and to various authorities.
"But you girls must not let this interfere with your trip, nor with the enjoyment of it," said Mr. Ford, who had told his wife something of the truth, but not enough to cause her to worry. He said they had word from Will, and hoped soon to have him home. And Mrs. Ford, who leaned much on her husband and daughter, was more content than she had been. "Get ready, Grace," said her father, "and enjoy your winter in the South."
"I certainly don't enjoy a winter in the North," she replied. "Girls, did you see my chocolates?"
"Hopeless! Hopeless!" murmured Mollie, with a smile, as she found the confections on the mantel.
Preparations for the Florida trip went on apace. The girls were so busy sorting out what clothes they were going to take, and having new gowns made that, for a time, they almost forgot about Will.
Though Mr. Ford had set in motion various forces, no definite word had yet been received. But they were hoping that every day would bring some message. Uncle Isaac wrote that he was doing all he could.
Frank Haley, Will's school chum, and Allen Washburn, the young lawyer, were very anxious to start off and make a search for their friend. But Mr. Ford, though deeply grateful to them, thought it might complicate matters. So, much against their desire, the two young men were forced to remain in Deepdale.
"Though we may take a run down and see you," said Allen to Betty a few days before the one set for the departure. "Would you mind?"
"We shall be very glad to see you," she answered, rather non-committally.
"We?" he asked, pointedly.
"Oh, of course I meant that I would, too," and she blushed as she glanced at him.
"That's better!" he laughed.
The next day Mollie telephoned for all of her chums to gather at her house for a sort of farewell tea some of the friends of the girls wished to tender to them. It was a cold, snowy, blustery day, and as Grace, wrapped in her furs, walked shiveringly along with Amy and Betty she remarked:
"I can almost envy Will now—down where it is nice and warm."
"Oh, we'll soon be there," answered Betty.
They found Mollie in the midst of showing some of her new gowns to her friends, and thethree chums joined in the admiration. For Mollie, with the characteristics of a French girl, loved pretty clothes, and rather inclined to a pronounced style not indulged in by her chums. But she always dressed becomingly.
"It is lovely!" exclaimed Hattie Reynolds. "But isn't it awfully light, Mollie?"
"Not for where we are going," was the answer. "You forget that we are going to a summer land. Oh, Dodo—stop that!" she cried, for from the room where stood Mollie's half-packed trunk came the twin, trailing a garment. "That's my best petticoat!" wailed Mollie. "You'll ruin it. And Paul! What are you doing with that shirtwaist—it's my very finest lawn!"
"Us 'ookin' for tandy!" calmly announced Dodo. "Has oo dot any in oo pockets?"
"Pockets! We never have pockets!" cried Betty. "Oh, aren't they too funny for anything!"
"You wouldn't say so, if they did this—or something like it—to you three or four times a day," exclaimed Mollie, half-crossly, as she advanced to rescue her garments. But the twins backed away, stepping on the skirt.
"Paul—Dodo—give those to sister at once!" commanded Mollie.
"Us will—for tandy!" stipulated Paul, craftily.
"Oh, if I only had some!" exclaimed Mollie.
"Allow me," volunteered Grace, producing a bag. "Here, children."
"Not while they have my things!" cried Mollie. "Chocolate on my white waist—never! Put the things down. Paul—Dodo, and Grace will give you candy."
"Oo dot tandy?" asked Dodo, looking doubtfully at Grace.
"Yes," and she opened the bag to show them. This was evidence enough, and the garments were placed where they belonged, Mollie hastening in to lay them straight again.
The little tea was a success, in spite of the invasion of the twins. The girls were bidden farewell by their friends—rather envious friends, to be frank—for who would not envy one a trip to sunny Florida with its flowers in the midst of winter?
The motor boat had been crated and shipped. Mr. Stonington had arranged his business for a long stay in the South, and all was in readiness for the trip. The girls had decided on a hundred and one things to take with them, and had rejected as many, only to make new selections. But finally even their exacting tastes were gratified, and satisfied, and their trunks were ready to go.
"But oh, I do wish Aunty Stonington was better," sighed Amy, the day before that set for their departure.
"Why, is she worse?" asked Betty.
"She seems very weak. Uncle is quite worried about her, though the doctor says the change will benefit her as soon as we get there. But I am afraid about the trip, though we are to go in a compartment car, and won't have to change."
"That will be lovely," said Grace. "We'll look after your aunt for you, Amy."
"That's sweet of you girls. Perhaps it will not be as bad as I fear. But she seems failing rapidly. The winter has been unusually severe for her."
"And poor mamma is not herself," murmured Grace. "Lack of news from Will seems to prey on her mind. But there! don't let's talk any more about our troubles. Let's look on the bright side of the clouds. I'm sure we ought to just hug Amy to pieces for giving us this nice trip."
"Well, please leave enough pieces of me so I can eat an orange or two when we get to Florida," laughed Amy.
"Also enough to catch a few alligators," added Betty.
"Don't you mention the horrid things!" cried Grace with a nervous shiver. "Are there really any there, Amy? Say no, my dear, and I'll give you two chocolates."
"Well, there are some," said Amy, who never could seem to dissimulate. "But Uncle Stonington says they are small—at least, near where we are going. Some people have them for pets."
"Mercy!" cried Grace. "I'd as soon have a pet snake."
"Well, we won't worry about them until we get bitten," suggested Mollie. "And perhaps their bark is worse than their bite. Do they bark, Amy?"
"I'm sure I don't know."
"No, they cry—like babies," said Grace. "Don't you remember 'alligator tears?'"
"She's thinking of crocodiles," said Betty. "Or else alligator pears."
"Worse and worse," protested Mollie. "We'll have the fauna and flora of Florida hopelessly mixed before we get through. Now let's see if we have everything packed," and they went over their list of belongings for the tenth time.
But all things must have an end, and so did their preparations. The day of the start came, final good-byes were said, and with Mr. and Mrs. Stonington the four outdoor girls took the train for the Sunny South.
"Can you smell the orange blossoms?"
"Yes. Aren't they delicious!"
"It reminds me of a wedding—hark, can you hear the strains of Mendelssohn?"
"Those are frogs, Betty," laughed Mollie.
The girls and Mr. and Mrs. Stonington were driving in a big canopy-topped carriage along a Florida road, toward the orange grove on the outskirts of the town of Bentonville. Their journey was over and at last they were in Florida.
"Oh, see the magnolias!" cried Grace, as they passed a tree in full bloom, the fragrance being almost overpowering. "They are just like those the boys sold us when the train stopped."
"Only they smell much sweeter," said Betty.
"Yes, almost too sweet," added Mollie.
Their trip had been practically without incident, and certainly without accident. There had been one or two delays, caused by various small happenings, but finally they had steamedinto the junction station, where they took a way train for Bentonville.
This last was a short trip, the one in the compartment car, without change, having been rather monotonous. And yet not dull, for the girls found much to talk about, to speculate upon and to wonder at.
The snow, the cold and biting winds had gradually been left behind, and Nature, coy and uncertain at first, had, with the advance into the South, grown bolder. They had come from the land of bleakness and barrenness—from the place of leafless trees—into the region of Summer, almost in a day and night. They had exchanged snows for flowers.
Mrs. Stonington had stood the trip well, though a trifle weary and worn as the end of the journey came in sight. But the warm and balmy air of the South seemed to revive her, and her cheeks, that had been pale, took on a tinge of color.
"Oh, I am so glad," murmured Amy, and the others were glad with her.
They had delayed at the Bentonville station long enough to make sure that Betty's boat had arrived, and to send home telegrams telling of their safe journey.
They had been met by a man from the orange grove, a kindly Southern worker, whose verynature seemed a protest against haste and worry.
"Well," he greeted them slowly, "I see you all has arrived. Welcome, folks! Now when you're ready we'll move along; but don't be in no rush. It's too pow'ful warm to rush."
Indeed it was warm, and the girls, who had changed to some of their summer garments, felt the truth of this.
"Oh, for a lawn waist and a white skirt, low canvas shoes and a palm leaf fan!" sighed Mollie, as they drove beneath great trees that tempered the heat of the sun.
"Anything else?" asked Betty with a laugh.
"Lemonade," suggested Amy. "Or, no, since we are on an orange plantation I suppose orangeade would be more appropriate, girls."
"Anything as long as it's cool," sighed Grace. "I declare, all my chocolates have run together," and she looked with dismay into a box of the confection she had been carrying.
"No wonder—it's summer, and we left winter behind us," said Betty. "You'll have to give up chocolates down here, Grace, my dear."
"Or else keep them on ice," ventured Amy.
A turn of the road brought them in full view of the orange grove in which Mr. Stonington was interested, and at the sight a murmur of pleased surprise broke from the girls.
"And to think of going out there and picking oranges as one would apples!" exclaimed Amy. "Doesn't it seem odd to see oranges that aren't in a crate, or a fruit store?"
"Some of those will be in crates 'fore night," said the driver. "We're picking every day now. It's a good season, and we're making the most of it," he added to Mr. Stonington.
"Glad to hear it. You'll have to ship them as fast as you can with four orange-hungry girls on hand," and he laughed at Amy and her chums.
"Oh, Uncle Stonington!" Amy cried. "As if we could eat all the oranges here!" and she looked over the rows and rows of fruit-laden trees.
"You ain't no idea how many oranges you can eat, when yo'all get them right off a tree," said the driver. "They taste different from the ones you Northerners have, I tell you!"
One of the foremen, whom Mr. Stonington had met before, came from the grove to welcome them, and to show them the way to the bungalow they were to occupy during their stay in the South.
"We hope you will like it here," said the overseer, a Mr. Hammond.
"I don't see how we could help it," said Mrs. Stonington. "I am in love with the place already, and I feel so much better even with this little taste of Summer."
"That's good!" exclaimed her husband, with shining eyes.
As the carriage stopped in front of a cool-looking bungalow, a "comfortable-looking" colored "mammy" came to the door smiling expansively.
"Bress all yo' hea'ts!" she exclaimed. "Climb right down, and come in yeah! I's got de fried chicken an' corn pone all ready fo' yo'all. An' dere's soft crabs fo' dem as wants 'em, an' chicken-gumbo soup, an'——"
"Hold on, Aunt Hannah!" exclaimed Mr. Hammond with a laugh. "Have a little mercy on them. Maybe they are not hungry for all your good things."
"Oh, aren't we, though!" cried Mollie. "Just try me. I've always wanted chicken fried in the Southern style."
"You'll get it here," said Mr. Stonington.
Let us pass over that first meal—something that the girls did not do by any means—but the mere details of our friends arriving, getting settled, and then of resting to enjoy life as they had never enjoyed it before, can have little of interest to the reader. So, as I said, let us pass over a few days.
Each one, it is true, brought something new and of peculiar interest to the girls, but it was only because they had never before been in Florida. To the residents it was all an old story—even the picking of oranges.
The grove was near a beautiful stream, not such a river as was the Argono of Deepdale, but broader, more shallow and sluggish.
"I wonder if there are alligators in it?" asked Betty, of one of the pickers.
"Not around here," he answered. "You have to go into the bayous, or swamps, for them critters. Don't yo'all worry 'bout the 'gators."
"We won't when we get in theGem," said Betty. "I wonder when they will bring her up and launch her?"
"Let's go to the depot and find out," suggested Amy. "We can have a carriage and team with a driver any time we want it, Uncle Stonington said."
At the freight office the boat was promised to them for the following day, but it was two before this promise was kept.
"You mustn't fret," said Mr. Stonington, when Betty grew rather impatient. "Remember you are down South. Few persons hurry here."
But finally theGemarrived, and after somehard work she was launched. Proudly she rode the river, as proudly as at Deepdale, and Betty, with a little cry of joy, took her place at the wheel.
Batteries and magneto were in place, some gasoline was provided, and a little later the motor boat was ready for her first trip in Southern waters.
"All aboard!" cried Betty, as the engine was started.
Slowly, but with gathering speed, the trim craft shot out into the middle of the Mayfair.
"Oh, this is just perfect!" breathed Mollie. There was a little cloud on the face of Grace. They all knew what it was, and sympathized with her. No news had come about Will.
They puffed along, to the wonder and admirationofmany of the colored pickers, who stopped to look—any excuse was good enough for stopping—especially the sight of a motor boat. Suddenly Grace, who was trailing her hand over the stern, gave a startled cry, and sprang up.
"Oh! oh!" she screamed. "An alligator. I nearly touched the horrid thing! Go ashore, Betty!"
"Alligators!" screamed Amy. "Don't you dare say that, Grace!"
"But it's so—I saw one—I nearly put my hand on his big black head. Oh, isn't it horrid!"
Grace and Amy were clinging to each other now in the middle of the boat. Betty had turned about at their exclamations, and Mollie was gazing curiously into the swirling water.
"I don't see any alligator," she announced, unbelievingly. "Are you sure you saw one, Grace?"
"Of course I am. Oh, Betty! There's one now, just ahead of you. You're going to run into him!"
Betty turned her attention to guiding the boat only just in time. Certainly something long and knobby and black was almost at the bow. She veered to one side, and then exclaimed:
"Alligator! That was nothing but a log, Grace Ford! How silly of you!"
"Silly? Nothing of the sort. I tell you I did see an alligator."
"It was a log—but it does look like one of the big creatures, though," said Amy. "Oh, if it should have been one!"
"Well, it couldn't eat us—here in the boat," said Mollie.
"No, but it might have capsized us, and then—" Grace paused suggestively.
"'All's well that ends well,'" quoted Betty, as she turned the boat nearer shore. "Some day we must take our lunch, and have a picnic ashore. See the lovely Spanish moss hanging down from the trees. It's like living history over again. Just think of it, how Balboa came here and discovered the land, and——"
"It wasn't Balboa, it was Ponce de Leon who located Florida," corrected Mollie. "Don't you remember—Flowery Easter?"
"Oh, so it was. Well, anyhow——"
"THERE! THERE!" SCREAMED GRACE. "THERE'S AN ALLIGATOR!""THERE! THERE!" SCREAMED GRACE. "THERE'S AN ALLIGATOR!"—Page 76.
The Outdoor Girls in Florida.
"There—there!" screamed Grace. "There's an alligator, surely. It's alive, too! Oh, dear! An alligator!"
She pointed to something long and dark floating in the river—something that seemed to be covered with scales and ridges—something that suddenly turned up an ugly head, with bulging eyes, which looked fishily at the girls in the boat.
Then, with a swirl of its tail, the creature sank below the surface.
"Yes, that was an alligator," said Betty quietly.
"I told you it was," spoke Grace. "And to think I nearly had my hand on it. Oh, I don't want to remember it."
"But it didn't bite you," said practical Mollie.
"If it had—well, the less said the better," remarked Betty. "Now let's forget all about it and enjoy ourselves. Maybe there are only a few of them here in the river."
"I wonder what alligators are good for, anyhow?" came from Amy, as she resumed her seat. "They don't seem fit for anything."
"You forget about alligator bags," corrected Mollie. "What would we do for valises and satchels if we had no alligators, I'd like to know?"
"That's so," admitted Amy.
Grace was looking over the surface of the river as though to see if any more of the ugly creatures were in sight, but the water was unruffled save by the wind.
Not knowing the character of the stream Betty did not want to venture to far. So, after going down about a mile or so, she turned the boat and headed up stream. They passed a number ofsmall boats, manned by colored boys who were fishing, and the youngsters suspended operations to gaze with mingled wonder and fear at Betty's swiftly-moving craft.
They tied up at the small dock which extended out into the river at the foot of the orange grove, well satisfied with their first trip, even though they had been frightened by the alligators.
"Yes, you will find one or two 'gators, now and then," said Mr. Hammond, the overseer, when told of the girls' experience. "But they won't bother you, especially in a big boat. Don't worry."
But Grace was so nervous that night that she did not sleep well, and Mrs. Stonington grew quite alarmed. Perhaps it was as much worry over the fate of Will, as the recollection of her escape from the alligator, that disturbed Grace.
For no good news had come from Mr. Ford. He had set many influences at work on the case, but so far nothing had come of his inquiries.
Will seemed to have been taken into the interior of Florida, and there lost. There were so many turpentine camps, or places where contract labor was used to get out valuable wood, or other products, that a complete inquiry would take a long time.
Mrs. Ford was as well as could be expected,Grace's father wrote, though naturally very much worried. And Grace was worried too. If she could have engaged actively in a search for her brother perhaps she might not have fretted so. But it was harassing to sit idly by and let others do the work.
"Especially when we have already done so much," said Betty, agreeing with her chum's view of the case.
Watching the work of gathering oranges, occasionally themselves helping somewhat, taking walks, drives and trips in the motor boat, made time for the girls pass quickly.
Then, one day, Betty said:
"Girls, we must go on a picnic. Take our lunch and go down the river in the boat. Go ashore and eat. We will do some exploring."
"And perhaps find the fountain of youth that Ponce de Leon missed," added Mollie.
"If you find it, bring some of the water back," begged Mr. Stonington. "You girls will not need it—I do."
"We'll bottle some for you," promised Amy, laughing.
Soon they were off in theGemagain, Grace, at least, keeping a wary eye out for alligators. But they saw none of the unprepossessing creatures.
"Though perhaps we may meet with a sea-cow," suggested Betty, as she looked for a pleasant place whereon to go ashore for lunch.
"What's a sea-cow?" asked Mollie.
"One that eats sea-weed," cried Amy.
"No, I mean a manatee," went on Betty. "Don't you remember the big creatures we saw in the New York aquarium a year or so ago?"
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Amy. "Well, they're not as bad as alligators—at least they haven't such large mouths."
"And they only eat—grass," added Mollie.
Betty was sending her boat ahead at good speed, scanning the shores of the river for some quiet cove into which to steer. The day was warm, and the sun shone down unclouded. From the banks came the odor of flowers.
Suddenly, as the boat chugged along, there came a momentary halt, as though it had struck something.
"What's that?" cried Grace.
"Maybe an alligator has us," suggested Mollie with a laugh. For theGemwent on as though nothing had happened.
"Don't be silly!" chided Grace. "It was certainly something."
Betty looked back a bit nervously, and glanced at the engine.
"I hope the gasoline isn't giving out," she murmured.
"The idea!" cried Grace.
Then with a shock that threw all the girls forward in their seats theGemcame to a sudden halt, and the engine raced furiously. Betty at once shut off the power.
"Oh, oh!" cried Grace. "What is it? Has an alligator got hold of us?"
Betty looked over the bow. Then she said grimly:
"We've run on a sand bar—that's all. Run on it good and hard, too. I wonder if we can get off?"
Betty's words caused her three chums to stare at her in wonder. Then, by glancing over the side of the boat themselves, they confirmed what she had said.
"A—a sand bar," faltered Grace, sinking back among some cushions that matched her dress wonderfully well. Mollie said later that Grace always tried to match something, even if it was only her chocolates.
"A plain, ordinary sand bar," repeated Betty. "One of the men at the dock warned me about them, and even told me how to locate them, by the peculiar ripple of the shallow water over them. But I forgot all about it. Oh dear!"
"Well, it can't be so very bad," spoke Mollie, who was idly splashing the water with one hand. "We can't sink, that's a consolation."
"Don't do that!" exclaimed Amy quickly. She had "cuddled" closer to Betty following the shock as the boat came to a stop on the concealed bar.
"Don't do what?" asked Mollie wonderingly.
"Put your hand in the water. There may be alligators, you know. I think—I'm not sure—but I think I saw something like the head of one a moment ago."
Mollie pulled in her hand so suddenly that she flirted a little shower of drops on all in the boat.
"Stop it! You mean thing!" cried Grace.
"Oh, I beg your pardon," spoke Mollie with elaborate politeness. "I didn't think your sailor suit would spot—mine doesn't."
"It isn't that—no indeed. I meant Amy—for bringing up such a topic as alligators at this moment, when we can't move. And the ugly creatures always come out on a sand bar to sun themselves; don't they?"
"Not on this sand bar," asserted Betty. "It's under water. If it had been out I should have seen it."
"I'm sure I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Grace," said Amy humbly, "but really I did not think it was safe for Mollie to put her hand in the water."
"Of course it wasn't, you dear!" soothed Mollie, patting Amy softly on the shoulder. "I wasn't thinking of what I was doing."
"And I didn't mean anything, either," added Grace, thinking that perhaps she and Mollie hadnot treated Amy with just the deference due a hostess, for Amy did figure in that role.
"Oh, that's all right," said Amy with a smile that seemed always full of warm fellowship and feeling. "I know just how you feel."
"Well, I feel wretched—there's no denying that," spoke Betty with a sigh. "To think that I should run you girls on a sand bar, almost on our first trip. Isn't it horrid?"
"Well, we'll forgive her if she'll run us off again; won't we, girls?" asked Grace, searching among the cushions.
"Here it is," said Amy with another of her calm smiles, as she produced the box of candy for which Grace was evidently searching.
"Thanks. Well, Betty, are you going to get forgiven?"
"Which means am I going to get you off this bar? Well, I'm going to do my best. Wait until I take a look at the engine."
"What's the matter with it?" asked Mollie quickly, a new cause for alarm dawning in her mind.
"Nothing, I hope," replied Betty. "But we ran on the bar so suddenly that it may be strained from its base."
"Is it a baseball engine?" asked Grace languidly. She seemed to have recovered her composure now. Whether it was the fact of her chocolates being safe, or that there was no immediate danger of sinking, or that no alligators were in sight, was not made manifest, but she certainly seemed all right again.
"It's enough of a ball game to have a base, and to be obliged to hold it," said Betty with a smile, as she bent over the machinery, testing the bolts and nuts that held the motor to the bottom of the boat.
"I guess it's all right," she added with a sigh of relief. "Now to see if it will operate. But first I think we'd better see if we can push ourselves off with the oars and boat hook," for Betty, knowing that the best of motors may not "mote" at times, carried a pair of long sweeps by which theGemcould laboriously be propelled in case of a break-down. There was also a long hooked pole, for landing purposes.
"Mollie, you take one of the oars, and I'll use the other," directed Betty, for she realized that she and the French girl were stronger than the others. "We'll let Grace and Amy use the hook. Then if we all push together we may get off without further trouble. If that won't answer, we'll try reversing the engine." The machinery had been shut down by Betty immediately following the sudden stop on the bar.
About the stranded craft swirled the muddy river. Bits of driftwood—logs and sticks—floated down, and sometimes there was seen what looked to be the long, knobby nose of an alligator, but the girls were not sure enough of this, and, truth to tell, they much preferred to think of the objects as black logs, or bits of wood. It was much more comforting.
"Are you all ready?" asked the Little Captain as she took her place on one side, well up in the bow, Mollie taking a similar position on the other side. Each held one of the long oars.
"All ready," answered Amy, who had taken up the boat hook.
"Wait a minute," begged Grace, looking for something on which to cleanse her hands of the brown smudge of chocolate. "This candy is so sticky!"
"There's the whole river to wash in," said Mollie. "'Water, water everywhere,' and not any solid enough to go ashore on," she concluded with a laugh.
"I'll never dip my hands in this water—not until I can see bottom," declared Grace, finally selecting a bit of rag that Betty used to polish the brass work of the engine.
"As if it would hurt to take hold of the boat hook with chocolate fingers," spoke Mollie a bitsharply. "At any rate one could wash the pole without fear if its being nipped by an alligator."
"Don't be silly," directed Grace with flashing eyes.
"Well, don't eat so much candy then."
"Come, girls, if we're going to get off the bar it's time we tried it," suggested Betty with a smile. She did not want the two tempers, that seemed often on the verge of striking fire, one from the other, to kindle now. There was enough of other trouble, she reasoned.
The oars and pole were thrust into the water ahead of the boat. Bottom was found within a few inches, showing how shallow was the stream over the bar. The prow of theGemseemed to have buried itself deeply in it.
They pushed and pushed and pushed again, but the only noticeable effect was the bending of the slender pole of the boathook on which Grace and Amy were shoving with all their strength. The motor boat did not budge.
"Once more!" cried Betty. "I think it moved a little."
"I wish—I could—think so!" panted Mollie, as she shifted the position of her oar.
Again they all bent to the task, and Amy and Grace combining their strength on the pole caused it to bend more than ever.
"Stop!" cried Betty, in some alarm. "It will break, and I don't know where I can get another. We'd better try reversing the engine."
She sat down in the cushioned cockpit, an example followed by the others. They were breathing rather hard, and presently Betty went into the cabin and came out with some iced orangeade that had been put aboard in a vacuum bottle to retain its coolness.
"Here," she invited, "let's refresh ourselves a bit. I can see that we are going to have trouble."
"Trouble?" queried Amy, looking at her chums.
"Yes. We aren't going to get off as easily as I thought."
"Do you think we'll ever get off?" asked Grace.
"Of course we will," declared Betty promptly.
"I'll never wade or swim ashore—not with the river full of such nasty alligators!" announced Grace.
"Wait until you're asked," cried Mollie. "I'm sure we can get off when the motor is reversed."
"The propeller seems to be in deep water," spoke Betty, taking an observation over the stern. "Come back here, girls, and sit down."
"It's more comfortable here," objected Grace,languidly. "In fact, if it were not for the fact of being stranded I should like it here." The cockpit was covered by an awning which kept off the hot rays of the sun, and the cushions, as Grace said, were very comfortable.
"But I want to get all the weight possible in the stern," Betty insisted. "That will raise the bow."
Understanding what was required of them, the girls moved aft, and perched on the flat, broad deck, while Betty went to start the motor and slip in the reverse clutch.
The engine seemed a bit averse to starting at first, and, for a few seconds, Betty feared that it had suffered some damage. But suddenly it began to hum and throb, gaining in momentum quickly, as it was running free. Betty slowed it down at the throttle, and then, looking aft to see that all was clear, she slipped in the clutch that reversed the propeller.
There was a smother of foam under the stern of theGem, which trembled and throbbed with the vibration. Betty turned on more power, until finally the maximum, under the circumstances, was reached.
"Are we moving?" she called, anxiously, to her chums.
"Not an inch!" answered Mollie, leaning overto look at the surface of the water. "Not an inch."
"We'll try it a little longer," said Betty. "Sometimes it takes a little while to pull loose from the sand."
"Suppose some of us go up in the bow and push?" suggested Mollie. "That may help some."
"Perhaps; and yet I want to keep the bow as light as possible, so it won't settle down any more in the sand."
"I'll go," volunteered Mollie. "One can't make much difference. And I am not so very heavy."
"All right," agreed Betty.
With one of the oars Mollie pushed hard down into the holding sand, while Betty kept the motor going at full speed, reversed.
But theGemseemed too fond of her new location to quit it speedily, and the girls, looking anxiously over the side, could see no change in their position.
"It doesn't seem to do any good," wailed Betty, hopelessly, as she slowed down the engine. The water about the craft was very muddy and thick now, caused by the propeller stirring up the bottom of the river.
"I guess we'll have to wade, or swim, ashore,"said Amy, in what she meant to be a cheerful voice.
"Never!" cried Grace. "I'll stay here until someone comes for us. Say, we haven't called for help!" she exclaimed, with sudden thought. "We're not so far from either shore but what we could make ourselves heard, I think. Let's give a good call!"
"That's so," agreed Mollie. "I never thought of that."
The girls looked across to the distant shores. True enough, the banks were not far off—too far to wade or swim, perhaps, but as the day was calm and still their voices might possibly carry.
"There doesn't seem to be much of a population on either side," observed Betty, grimly. "Still there may be houses back from the shore, hidden by the trees. Now, all together."
They raised their fresh young voices in a combined call that certainly must havecarriedto both shores. Then they waited, but nothing happened. Again they called, and again—several times.
"I'll give the first man who comes for us in a boat all the chocolates I have left," bribed Grace. No one appeared to accept.
Again they called, after a little rest, and a sipping of what remained of the orangeade. Butto no purpose did their appeals for aid float across across the stretch of muddy water.
Once more Betty tried reversing the engine, and again the girls pushed with the oars and pole. TheGemremained fast on the sandy bar.
"I wonder how it would do if I got out and dug around the bow?" suggested Betty. "The water is shallow on the bar—hardly over my ankles."
"Don't you do it!" cried Grace. "Those horrid——"
"Hark!" cried Mollie, with upraised hand, "I hear something."
Through the stillness they could all note the regular staccato puffing of the exhaust of a gasoline motor. It drew nearer.
"It's a boat coming!"criedBetty.
A moment later a motor craft swung into view around an upper bend, coming swiftly down the river. But at the sight of it the girls gave a gasp, for it was filled with roughly dressed colored men, while in the stern sat a white man of even more villainous appearance than the blacks. And the boat was headed straight for the strandedGem. Help was coming indeed, but it was of doubtful quality.
"Oh, dear!" cried Grace, as she shrank back against Betty. "Oh, dear."
"Those—those men," breathed Amy, who also seemed to be looking about for some sort of physical support. "See, Betty!"
They both seemed to depend on the "Little Captain" in this emergency. As for Mollie, her dark eyes flashed, and she looked at Betty with a nod of encouragement. Whatever happened, these two would stand together, at any rate.
"Don't be silly!" exclaimed Betty, stilling the wild beating of her own heart by the reflection that she must be brave for the sake of others.
"But they are coming right toward us!" gasped Grace, making a move as though to hide in the cabin.
"Of course they are!" exclaimed Mollie, quickly. "They are going to help us; aren't they, Betty?"
"I'm sure I hope so," was the low-voiced answer. "One thing, girls, speak very carefully.Sound carries very distinctly over water, you know."
"They are coming toward us," added Amy, shrinking closer to Betty. There was no doubt of that. The eyes of all in the approaching motor boat, which was a powerful craft, were fixed on the girls in theGem, and it was a strange sight to see the eyes of the colored men, with so much of the white showing in contrast to their dark faces, staring fixedly at our friends. Grace caught herself in a half-hysterical laugh.
"They looked just like those queer china dolls," she explained afterward.
The white man steering the boat was almost as dark in complexion as were his companions, but at least he was white—the girls were sure of that.
"I guess they know we have run on a sand bar," Betty explained, in as calm a voice as she could bring to her need. "They are avoiding it themselves."
As she spoke the other boat made a wide sweep and then, having gone down past theGem, it again swept in on a curve, now being headed up stream.
"Stuck?" called the white steersman, and his voice was not unpleasant, though a bit domineering, Betty thought.
"But perhaps this is because he is used to giving orders," she reflected.
"Yes; we are on a sand bar, I'm afraid," she answered, and smiled.
"Look natural!" she commanded to the others a moment later, her voice not reaching the men in the other craft, she felt sure, for the clutch of the relief boat had been thrown out and the engine was racing, making considerable noise. "Look as though we expected this," Betty commanded. "There's nothing to fear. We are not far from home."
"Lots of folks get stuck on that bar," went on the man, who was bringing his boat into a position favorable for giving aid to theGem. "It ought to be buoyed, or marked in some way. You're strangers around here, I take it," he went on.
"Yes, from Mr. Stonington's orange grove," said Betty, simply. "If you will kindly pull us off this bar we will gladly pay you for your trouble."
Was it fancy, or did Betty detect fierce and eager gleams in the eyes of the colored men?
"Oh, shucks!" exclaimed the steersman, quickly. "I've pulled lots of bigger boats than yours off that bar. And not for pay, neither. Can you catch a rope?"
"Oh, yes," said Mollie, quickly, determined to second Betty's efforts to appear at ease. "We've done considerable cruising."
"That's good. Well, you want to know this river before you do much more. It's treacherous. Sam, throw that rope while I put us up a little closer," he commanded.
"Yes, boss," was the reply of a big colored man in the bow.
Both Mollie and Betty grasped for the rope as it came uncoiling toward them.
"That's good," complimented the man. "Now can you make it fast? Have you a ring-bolt there?"
"No, but there's a deck-cleat," spoke Betty.
"Just the same. Now, then, I'm going to turn about and try to haul you off, pointing my bow down stream. This boat works better on the direct clutch than in reverse. And when I start to pull, you'd better reverse your motor. Can you do it?"
"Oh, yes," answered Betty.
"Good. You do know something about boats. So you're from the orange grove; eh? I heard the new owner had come on. Need any men down there?" and he seemed quite business-like.
"I—I don't know," faltered Betty, looking at Amy. "Mr. Stonington hasn't told us anythingabout that. This is his niece," and she nodded at Amy.
"Oh, is that so! Well, if he should happen to need any pickers, I can supply him. Hank Belton is my name. I supply laborers for lots of orange growers and others. I'm the biggest dealer in labor around here; ain't I, boys?" and he appealed to the colored men.
"Dat's what you am, boss!" exclaimed one, with a chuckle.
"And I always treats my help right, no matter what happens after they hire out; don't I, boys?"
"Suah!" came in a chorus.
"So just remind Mr. Stonington about me," the man went on with what he evidently meant for a friendly smile, but which made the girls shudder. "My place is at Penbrook—about ten miles up the river. Now, then, have you that rope fast?"
"Yes," answered Betty.
"Get ready then—I'm going to pull you. And start your motor as soon as the tow rope gets taut!"
"All right," answered Betty in business-like tones.
The tow rope straightened out as the other motor boat started down stream. Betty watched,and, when she thought the proper time had come, she started her motor on the reverse.
For a moment it seemed that, even with this, theGemwould not come off the bar, and the girls looked anxiously over the side to detect the first motion.
Then there came a quiver to the stranded boat, and a shout from the colored men:
"She's movin', boss!"
"Turn on a little more gas!" cried the steersman to Betty. "I think we have her now!"
She speeded up her motor, and in another instant theGemcame free so suddenly that there was danger of a collision.
"Shut down!" called Hank Belton quickly. "You're all right now."
Betty turned off the power, and Mollie cast loose the tow rope.
"Thank you very much," she called to the man.
"I wish you would let us pay you," added Betty.
"Nary a pay, Miss," was his answer. "I'm glad I could help you. Just give my message to Mr. Stonington, and I'll be obliged to you. Better back down a bit before you turn. That bar sticks out a ways. It's a wonder you didn't hit it before. You can't draw much."
"We don't!" answered Betty.
The other boat was proceeding down stream now, the colored men looking back with their rolling eyes. Betty started her engine on the reverse again, and then, feeling sure that they were beyond the bar, she turned and steered her craft back toward the orange grove. The picnic plan was given up now as it was getting late and the girls were tired.
"Thank goodness that's over!" exclaimed Grace, with a sigh of relief. "Oh, I was so frightened!"
"At what?" asked Mollie.
"I—I don't know."
"Well, it was very kind of them," said Betty. "We might have had to stay there a long time."
"And I'm going to tell Uncle Stonington," spoke Amy. "He may want to hire men, for there are many more oranges to pick."
Grace sat thoughtfully on the cushions, neglecting even to eat her chocolates.
"'A penny for your thoughts,'" offered Betty.
"I was just wondering," said Grace slowly, "that perhaps that man might know something of the labor contractor who has Will in the toils. I wish I had thought to ask."
"That's so!" cried Mollie. "But we can findhim again. It will give us something to do, Betty. We can come up the river again."
"And I'll be sure to keep away from that sand bar," declared the Little Captain.
Mr. and Mrs. Stonington were quite alarmed when the girls told of their adventure.
"They weren't in any real danger," declared Mr. Hammond, the overseer. "The river isn't deep nor swift, and there are boats going up and down quite often."
"But what about those rough men?" asked Mrs. Stonington.
"Oh, rough is the worst thing you can say against them. They aren't really bad. Belton has the best supply of laborers around here. Probably he was taking those men down to Hanson's grove. We will need pickers ourselves next week, Mr. Stonington, and I don't believe we can do any better than to get them from Belton."
"Very well, Mr. Hammond; whatever you say."
"And that will be a chance to repay him for his kindness to us," added Betty.
"And perhaps we can get some news of my brother," spoke Grace, wistfully, for there had come no word from those who were searching for the missing youth.
"I'd like to go and ask myself," went on Grace.
"Well, there's no reason why you shouldn't," said Mr. Hammond. "I'll be going up the river in a day or so, and if you think we'll hire of Belton I'll tell him so," he said to Mr. Stonington.
"Yes, if you like, Mr. Hammond."
"All right, then I'll pilot the girls to his camp if their boat will hold me."
"Indeed it will!" exclaimed Betty, "and you can tell me how to avoid sand bars."
"Belton's place is a little way into the interior from the river," went on Mr. Hammond, "but it's a safe road."
"Then we'll go," decided Betty.
The next few days were filled with small incidents of little interest. The girls motored about, and did some fishing in the river, catching a variety of specimens, few of which were pronounced fit for the table. But they enjoyed themselves very much.
They wandered about in the orange grove, eating as much of the delicious fruit as they chose. Sometimes they took walks with Mrs. Stonington, who was slowly regaining her health. Mr. Stonington was kept busy seeing to the details of the business, that was new to him.
One night Mr. Hammond said:
"I think we'll need those pickers to-morrow, or next day, Mr. Stonington."
"Very well, then get them. The girls can take you up to Belton's camp."
"And perhaps I can get some word of Will," observed Grace hopefully.
The trip up the river was devoid of incident, except that Betty nearly ran on another sand bar, being warned just in time by Mr. Hammond. Then they reached the landing where Belton's boat was moored.
"That shows he's in camp," said the foreman, as he helped the girls tie theGem. Then they struck off into the interior, not a few doubts tugging at the girls' hearts. It was very wild and desolate, the Everglades being not far distant.