"Tell me," Jessie said, "what is the difference between my receiving set and yours, Monty?"
"If you want to hear clearly and keep outside radio out of your machine, use a regenerative radio set with an audion detector. The whole business, Miss Jessie, is in the detector, after all. A regenerative set of this kind is selective enough—that's the expression Mr. Mark used—to enable any one to tune out all but a few commercial stations. And they don't often butt in to annoy you. For sure, you'll kill all the amateur squeak-boxes and other transmission stations of that class.
"Now, I'm going to tune in for Stratfordtown. They are sending the Government weather reports and mother wants to know should she water her tomatoes or depend on a thunderstorm," and he grinned at Mrs. Shannon, who stood, an awkwardbut smiling figure, in the doorway between the two rooms.
"'Tis too wonderful a thing for me to understand, at all, at all," admitted the widow. "However can they tell you out of that machine there is a thunderstorm coming?"
"Listen!" exclaimed the boy eagerly. There was a horn on the set and no need for earphones. He had tuned the market reports out. From the horn came a different voice. But the words the visitors heard had nothing to do with the report on the weather. "What's the matter?" demanded Monty Shannon. "Listen to this, will you?"
"... she will come home at once. This is serious—a serious call for Bertha Blair."
"Do you hear that?" almost shrieked Amy Drew. "Why, it must mean you, Bertha!"
CHAPTER VI
CHANGED PLANS
"Howridiculous!" Jessie cried. "That surely cannot mean you, Bertha."
"Hush!" begged Amy. "It's uncanny."
Again the slow voice enunciated: "Bertha Blair will come home at once. This is serious—a serious call for Bertha Blair."
"Criminy!" shouted Monty Shannon. "I know who that is. It's Mr. Mark Stratford."
"He is calling for you, Bertha," said Jessie. "Can it be possible?"
"Something has happened!" gasped Bertha, starting for the door of the cottage. "Where is that child?"
"Never mind Henrietta. We will take care of her," Jessie called after the worried girl, wishing to relieve her anxiety.
Bertha ran out of the house, and the next moment the Roselawn girls heard the car start. Bertha was being whisked away to Stratfordtown. The voice of Mark Stratford continued to repeat the call several times. Then he read the weather report, as expected.
"I can tell you one thing," Jessie said eagerly to her chum and the Shannons. "Mark Stratford does not usually give out the announcements from that station. Now, does he, Monty?"
"No, ma'am, Miss Jessie. Only once in a while."
"Then something has happened at the Blair house, or to Mr. Blair himself. That is why they send out this call, hoping that somebody down here would get it and tell Bertha."
"Think! How funny it must feel to hear your name called out of the air in that way," Amy remarked.
"Why, we had that experience ourselves," Jessie said. "Don't you remember? Mark thanked us publicly for finding his watch."
"But that was not just like this," replied Amy. "Anyway, there is something unsatisfactory about radio—and always will be—until we can 'talk back' as well as receive. See! If Monty had a sending set as well as a receiving, he could have answered Mark Stratford, and told him Bertha had heard the call and was starting home without any delay."
"I am afraid something really serious has happened," Jessie said. "Let's go back home and call up Stratfordtown on the telephone."
"We'll take Hen along with us," agreed Amy. "You said we'd take care of her."
This the Roselawn girls did. When they set out from Dogtown in their canoe, Henrietta sat amidships. She was delighted to visit the Norwoods. She had stayed over night with Jessie before.
They passed the flotilla of tubs and barrels that the Dogtown children had set afloat. Mrs. Shannon would never see her washtubs again. Meanwhile the Costello twins and Charlie Foley had set out to walk around the lake and recover the big canoe from the place where it had drifted ashore on the other side.
"They certainly are the worst young ones," commented Amy Drew. "Always in mischief of some kind."
"There ain't much else to get into at Dogtown," said little Henrietta soberly. "We don't have any boy scouts or girl scouts or anything like that. They havethemat Stratfordtown. Mrs. Blair told me about 'em. I guess I'll join the girl scouts and take 'em all out on my island."
Little Henrietta was still intensely excited about "her island." What the Roselawn girls heard over the telephone when they got home again was not encouraging. It seemed at first that Henrietta must be disappointed.
Jessie ran in to the telephone as soon as they arrived. She did not know the number of Mr. Blair's private telephone—if he had one. But sheknew how to get in touch with Mark Stratford whether he was at his home or at the offices of the Stratford Electric Company. She was able to speak with the young man almost at once, and questioned him excitedly.
"Yes. I know that Bertha has got home. I took a chance to reach her at Dogtown when I heard where she had gone," Mark Stratford said. "You know Monty Shannon is a protégé of mine, and I have an idea he is listening in most of the time at that set he has built."
"But what is the matter? Has Mr. Blair been hurt?"
"It is Mrs. Blair. She fell downstairs and has hurt herself severely. Did it not ten minutes after Bertha went out. Broke her leg. She will be in bed for weeks. I understand that they were planning to go away for the summer," said Mark, sympathetically. "But that cannot be now. At least, I suppose Bertha will have to remain to take care of her aunt."
"Sh! Don't tell little Hen," begged Amy Drew, when she heard this. "The child will be heartbroken. Without Bertha and Mrs. Blair Hennie can't go to her island."
Jessie made no audible reply to this. And she certainly had no intention of telling Henrietta the very worst. She discussed the situation with Momsy, and before Daddy Norwood returnedfrom town that afternoon mother and daughter had just about perfected a very nice plan for little Henrietta.
"Well, you are to go to Hackle Island, Momsy," Mr. Norwood said, when he first came in. "I have signed the agreement. You can send the people down to make the house ready to-morrow, if you like. I understand there will not be much to do about the place. We can all go by the end of the week."
"You take my breath away—as usual," laughed Jessie's mother. "You are always so prompt, Robert."
"And you will have a house full of company, I suppose?" he rejoined, but looking at Jessie with a smile.
"We are going to have one guest you didn't expect, Daddy," rejoined his daughter. She told him swiftly of what had happened at the Blair home in Stratfordtown. "So that spoils it all for little Henrietta, you see, Daddy, if we don't take her. And you know she is crazy to see what she calls her island."
"Sure that she won't make you and Momsy crazy, Jess?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. "That child is as lively as an eel and as noisy as a steam-roller."
"How can you say such things, Daddy?" cried Jessie, shaking a reproving head. "We haveagreed to take her if you and the Blairs are willing. And Momsy and I will try to teach her the things she'll need to know."
"M-mm. Well, perhaps you will have success. You have done pretty well with me," laughed Mr. Norwood, who made believe that his wife and daughter had "brought him up by hand." "Being guided in any way will be a novel experience for little Hen, that is sure."
He agreed so well with his wife's and Jessie's plans, however, that he called Mr. Blair up that evening and proposed to keep little Henrietta and take her to Hackle, or Station, Island, while Mrs. Blair was confined to her house. As Jessie's father, along with Mr. Drew, had taken legal charge of Henrietta's affairs for the time being, it was right that the orphan child should be in Mrs. Norwood's care.
"There is an almost certain chance the child is going to be very wealthy," Mr. Norwood said seriously, to Jessie's mother. "Her education and improvement cannot begin too soon. She is as wild as a hawk and she needs encouragement and government both."
Henrietta took quite as a matter of course every change that came to her. She had no particular affection for Mrs. Blair, for she had not known her long enough. She was delighted to go to "her island" with Jessie and her parents. As long asshe got there and could survey her domain, little Henrietta was bound to be satisfied. But Jessie knew she would have to restrain the child in her desire to invite everybody she knew and liked to come to the island while she was there.
The Norwood family had not even discussed how they were to travel to the island—by what route—when Amy Drew bounded in. Jessie and Henrietta were upstairs in Jessie's room listening to the bedtime story. A little girl not much older than Henrietta was telling the story, and Henrietta thought that was quite wonderful.
"I know that Bertha and you other big girls sing into the radio," the freckle-faced child said, when it was over. "Do you suppose Mr. Blair would let me recite into it like that?"
"What would you say?" asked Amy, laughing as her chum and the smaller girl removed their earphones.
"Why—why," said Henrietta eagerly, "I would tell stories, too. Spotted Snake, the Witch, used to tell stories to Billy Foley and the other Dogtown kids to keep them quiet. And they liked 'em."
"We'll see about that when we come back from your island, Henrietta," said Jessie, smiling.
"And listen!" exclaimed Amy. "You remember I said I had a great idea about our going to Hackle Island. I didn't finish telling you, Jess."
"That is right," her chum rejoined. "And no wonder, when we spied that crew of crazy ones venturing to sea in tubs!" and Jessie laughed.
"Listen here," Amy said more seriously. "The boys have come home. I told you they were due. TheMarigoldis all right now. Her engines and everything are working fine. So, why don't we take this opportunity to see what she is like. Darry has promised us long enough."
"Oh, but we are going to Hackle Island!" cried Jessie.
"Station Island," put in Henrietta. "Myisland."
"Of course. That is what I mean," Amy hastened to say. "Instead of taking the train and then the regular boat, why not get the boys to take us all the way from the yacht club moorings to Station Island, or whatever it is called?"
"Why, Amy, that would be fine!" cried Jessie. "Will Darry do it?"
"He will or I shall disown him as a brother," declared her chum, with vigor.
"Let's run and see what Momsy says!" exclaimed the eager Jessie.
"We'd better go andhearwhat she says," laughed the irrepressible. "Come on, Hen! You want to be in it. Wouldn't you like a boat ride to your island?"
"Why, how do you suppose I was going to getthere?" demanded the little maid. "Automobiles don't run to islands—nor yet steam trains. But I hope the boat won't leak as bad as that trough me and Charlie Foley sailed in this morning," she added thoughtfully.
CHAPTER VII
FORECASTS
Theplan Amy had originated for going to Station Island on her brother's yacht was approved by Jessie's mother and father, and in the end the Drew family agreed to make the voyage, too. Mrs. Norwood sent down her housekeeper and a staff of servants in advance so that everything would be in readiness for the yachting party.
A few articles of clothing had been bought for Henrietta when she had gone to the Blairs. But, besides being few, they were hardly suitable for an outing on Station Island. So Jessie and Amy were allowed to use their own taste in selecting the child's outfit for the island adventure. And how they did revel in this novel undertaking!
Being down town on these errands so much during the following two days, the Roselawn girls were bound to fall in with Belle Ringold and Sally Moon, as well as with other members of their class in the high school. Jessie, at least, would never have noticed Belle and her chum could she have avoided it.
Amy had an overpowering fondness for a concoction called a George Washington sundae which was to be found only at the New Melford Dainties Shop. So, of course, each shopping "spree" must end with a visit to the confectionary shop in question.
"Come on," Amy said, on the second day. "I told Darry and Burd we'd wait for them, and we might as well ride home as walk. They have our second car. Cyprian is driving mamma to a round of afternoon teas and other junkets. But the boys won't forget us. Come on."
"'Come on' means only one place to come to," laughed Jessie. "I know you. What shall we do on that island, Amy, without any George Washington sundaes?"
"Say not so!" begged the other girl. "There is a fancy hotel there, they say, and perhaps it has a soda fountain."
"Hi! Amy Drew!" called a voice behind them, as they descended the two steps into the Dainties Shop.
"Well, would you ever?" demanded Amy, looking around with no eagerness. "If it isn't Sally Moon and, of course, Belle."
"Hi, Amy!" repeated Sally. "Let me ask you something."
"Go ahead," returned Amy, but in no encouraging tone. "It's free to ask."
Sally, however, was not easily discouraged. Evidently Belle had put her up to ask whatever the question was, and to keep friendly with Belle Ringold Sally had to perform a good many unpleasant tasks.
"Your brother and Burd Alling have got back with that yacht, haven't they?" she demanded.
"You are correctly informed," answered Amy lightly.
"We want to see them. I suppose the boat is all right? That is, it is safe, isn't it?"
"So far it hasn't sunk with them," returned Amy scornfully.
"You needn't be so snippy, Amy Drew," broke in Belle. "We want to see your brother about the use of theMarigold. I suppose he will let it to a party—for a price?"
"I don't know," said Amy, staring.
"Why, that's absurd!" Jessie declared, without thinking. "It is a pleasure boat, not a cargo boat."
Amy began to laugh when she saw Belle's face.
"They don't even take passengers for hire," she said. "Is that what you want to know?"
"We want to hire a yacht to take us to Station Island," Sally hastened to say. "And Belle remembered Darrington's boat——"
"I don't suppose it is fit to take such a party as ours will be," interposed Belle.
"I guess Darry won't want to let it," said Amy, seeing that the two girls were in earnest. "Besides, we are going down ourselves this week."
"Who are going where?" demanded Belle, sharply.
"It's the Norwoods' party, you know," Amy said, for Jessie had "shut up as tight as a clam." "Mrs. Norwood has taken a bungalow there."
"On Station Island—Hackle Island it used to be called?" Sally cried.
"That is the place. And Darry will take us all on theMarigold. So, I guess——"
"We might have known it!" exclaimed Belle, angrily. "The Norwoods or some of that Roselawn crowd would tag along if we planned something exclusive."
But Amy only laughed at this. "You don't own that island, do you? Remember what little Hen Haney said about owning an island? Well, Hackle, or Station Island, is the one she meant. She owns a big slice of it."
"I don't believe it!" cried Belle.
"She does. My father says so. And he and Mr. Norwood are going to get it for her."
"They will have a fine time doing that," sneered Belle. "Why,myfather has a claim upon all the middle of the island, and he is going to make his claim good. That nasty little freckle-faced youngone from Dogtown will never get a foot of Hackle Island—you see!"
Amy shrugged her shoulders as she and Jessie took seats at a table. She knew how to aggravate Belle Ringold, and she sometimes rather impishly enjoyed bothering the proud girl.
"And there's one thing," went on Belle, with emphasis, so exasperated that she did not see Nick, the clerk, who was waiting for her order, "I wouldn't go away for the summer unless we went to a really fashionable hotel. No, indeed! Cottagers at seaside places are always of such a common sort!"
Amy only laughed. Jessie remained silent. It really did trouble her to have these controversies with Belle. It was not nice and she did not feel right after they were over.
"There is something wrong with us, as well as with Belle," Jessie said once to Amy, on this topic.
"I'd like to know what's wrong with us?" her chum demanded. "I like that!"
"When we squabble with Belle and Sally we make ourselves just as common as they are."
"Tut, tut! Likewise 'go to,' whatever that means," laughed Amy Drew. "Why, child, if we did not keep up our end of any controversy that those girls start they would walk all over us."
However, on this occasion, and at Jessie's earnest desire, Amy hastened the eating of her GeorgeWashington sundae and the two friends got out of the shop before Darry and Burd Alling appeared in the car.
"What's the matter?" asked Amy's brother, when the car stopped before the Dainties Shop and he saw his sister and Jessie waiting. "Spent all your money and waiting for us to take you in and treat you?"
"We had ours," Jessie replied promptly, getting into the tonneau.
"Yes, indeed. 'Home, James!'" Amy added, following her chum.
"And so we are to be deprived of our needed nourishment because you piggy-wiggies have had enough?" demanded Burd Alling, with serious objection. "I—guess—not! Come along, Darry," and he hopped out of the car.
"You'd better look ahead before you leap," giggled Amy.
"What's that?" asked Darry, hesitating and looking at his sister curiously.
"What's up her sleeve?" demanded Burd, with suspicion.
"You can treat Belle and Sally instead of Jessie and me, if you go in," said Amy.
"Oh, my aunt!" exclaimed Burd, and sprang into the automobile again. "Drive on, Darrington! If you love me take me away before those girls get their hooks in me."
"Don't mind about you," growled Darrington, starting the car. "I will look out for myself, if you please. I hope I never meet up with those two girls again."
At that his sister went off into uncontrollable laughter.
"To think!" she cried. "And Belle and Sally are going to be all summer on Station Island!"
"That settles it," announced Darry. "Burd and I will spend our time aboard theMarigold. How about it, Burd?"
"Surest thing you know. At least we can escape those two on the yacht."
And this amused Amy immensely, too. For was not Belle desirous of chartering theMarigold?
CHAPTER VIII
ABOARD THE "MARIGOLD"
Beforeshe was ready to go to Station Island Jessie Norwood had a few purchases to make that had nothing to do with little Henrietta Haney. She had decided to disconnect her radio set and send the instrument down with the rest of the baggage. In addition, she was determined to take Monty Shannon's advice and buy the additional parts which made the Dogtown boy's set so much more successful than her own.
"We'll buy wire for the antenna, of course," Jessie said to Amy. "Let our old aerial stand till we return. All we shall have to do will be to hook it up again when we set up the set in my room."
So they bought the wire, the lightning switch, and the other small parts in New Melford and sent them all on the truck with the trunks to the dock where theMarigoldwaited. The next day the two families, the Norwoods and the Drews, as well as Burd Alling and little Henrietta, were whisked to the yacht club dock in several automobiles.
The girls had heard from Bertha over the telephone. And considering the state of mind and body that Mrs. Blair was in, the poor woman was probably very well content that Henrietta should be in Mrs. Norwood's care for a while.
The freckle-faced little girl was wild with excitement when she got aboard Darry's yacht. She had never been on such a craft before.
"I declare," said Amy, "we'll have to put a ball and chain on this kid, or she will be overboard."
Henrietta stared at her. "Is that one of those locket and chain things you wear around your neck? I'm going to buy me one when I get my island. I never did own any joolry."
This set Amy off into a breeze of laughter, but Jessie realized that Henrietta was perfectly fearless and would need watching while they were on the yacht.
TheMarigoldwas by no means a new vessel, but it was roomy and seaworthy. That it was a coal-burner rather than a modern oil-burner, or with gasoline engines, did not at all decrease its value in the eyes of its young owner. Darry Drew was inordinately proud of the yacht.
He ran it with a small crew, and he and Burd, or whoever of his boy friends he had aboard, did a share of the work.
"I declare!" sniffed Amy, "I suppose you will expect Jess and me to go down and stoke thefurnaces for you if you get short handed. Why not? You expect Mrs. Norwood and mamma to do the cooking."
"Oh, that's only for this voyage. When we have only fellows aboard we all take turns cooking and get along all right."
"Does Burd cook?" demanded Amy, in mock horror.
"Well, he is pretty bad," admitted Darry, with a grin. "But we let him cook only on days when the sea is rough."
"And why?" demanded his sister, with wide-open eyes.
"We never feel much like eating on rough days," explained Darry. "You see, theMarigoldkicks up quite a shindy when the sea is choppy."
"Let us hope it will be calm all the way to Station Island," Jessie cried.
She had her wish. At least, the wind was fair, the sea "kicked up no combobberation," to quote her chum, and every one enjoyed the sail. If theMarigoldwas not a racing boat, her speed was sufficient. They had no desire to get to the island until the following day.
Darry's sailing master was a seasoned old mariner named Pandrick. They called him Skipper. At noon the yacht crossed one of the many "banks" to which New York fishing boats sail andthe skipper pronounced the time opportune for fishing.
"There's blackfish and flounders on the bottom and yellow-fin and maybe bass higher up. You won't find a better chance, Mr. Darry," observed the sailing master.
Every one grew excited over this prospect, and the boys got out the tackle and bait. Even Henrietta must fish. Jessie had been about to suggest a cushioned seat in the cabin for the little girl, with a pillow and a rug, for she had seen Henrietta nodding after lunch. The child would not hear of anything like that.
The anchor was dropped quietly and theMarigoldswung at that mooring while the fishermen took their stations. Darry gave his personal attention to Henrietta's bait and showed her how to cast her line. The little girl had been fishing many times, if only for fresh water fish, and she was not awkward.
"Don't you bother 'bout me, Miss Jessie," she said to her mentor impatiently. "I bet I get a fish before you do. I ain't so slow."
Amy had fixed a station for her chum beside her own in the shade of the awning. Mr. Norwood and Mr. Drew had brought their rods. Everybody was soon engaged in an occupation which really calls for the undivided attention of the fisherman. The boys ordered all of them to keep quiet.
"You know," observed Burd sternly, "although these fish out here may be dumb, they are not deaf. You chatterboxes keep quiet."
Jessie was greatly excited. She had a nibble on her hook, then a positive strike.
"Oh! O-oh" she squealed under her breath. "There's—there's something!"
"Is it a wolf or a bear?" demanded Amy, giggling.
"Can you get it aboard, Jess?" asked Darry, from the other side of the deck.
Jessie was not awkward. She had pulled in a good-sized fish before. This one splashed about a great deal and, when she raised it to the surface, it looked so much like a big rubber boot that Jessie squealed and almost dropped it.
"Hey! What did I say about that stuff?" called out Burd. "You'll give all the fish nervous prostration. My goodness! What is that?"
He hurried to give Jessie a hand in hauling up the heavy, slowly flapping fish. It was half as broad as a dining table, with one side grayish-white and the other slate color. The skipper gave it a glance and laughed.
"Virgin," he said. "We don't eat that kind o' fish."
"Oh, dear! isn't it a flounder?" wailed Jessie, disconsolately.
"No, no. 'Tain't worth anything," said the skipper, unhooking the heavy and ugly-looking fish.
They joked Jessie about the worthless flatfish, but she laughed, too. Baiting again, she threw in, and just at that moment there was a heavy splash from the other side of the yacht.
"Somebody else has got a strike," cried Amy. "Who is it?"
Nobody answered. There seemed to be nobody excited over a bite. The two lawyers were forward. Darry and Burd were aft. Jessie suddenly dropped her line and shot across the deck to the other rail.
"Oh, Amy!" she shrieked. "Where is little Hen?"
"You don't mean she's gone overboard?" gasped her chum, excitedly, and she came running in the wake of Jessie.
Henrietta's fish line was attached to a cleat on the yacht's rail. She had been standing on a coil of rope so as to be high enough to look over into the sea. The fear that clamped itself upon Jessie Norwood's mind was that the little girl had dived headlong over the rail.
"Oh, Henrietta!" she cried. "She—she's gone! She's gone overboard, Amy."
Her chum was quite as fearful as Jessie was, but she tried to soothe her chum.
"It can't be, Jess! She—she wouldn't do that! She just wouldn't!"
"But you heard that big splash, didn't you?" cried the frightened Jessie. Then she began to shout as loud as she could: "Help! Help! Henrietta's overboard! She's gone overboard, I am sure!"
CHAPTER IX
GOSSIP OUT OF THE ETHER
Jessie'scry startled everybody on deck and Darry and Burd came running from the stern.
"Where is she? Do you see her? Throw out a buoy!" exclaimed the young owner of the yacht. "Hey, Skipper Pandrick! Lower the boat."
"Man overboard!" shouted Burd Alling.
"Get out!" exclaimed Darry. "It's not a man at all. It's little Hen. Is that right, Jessie? Did you see her fall?"
"No-o," replied Jessie. "But she's not here. Where else could she have gone?"
Burd stared up and all about. Amy said promptly:
"You needn't look into the air, Burd. Hen certainly didn't fly away."
The skipper arrived, but he was not excited. "Who did you say had gone overboard, Mr. Darry?" he asked.
"What does it matter? Can't we save her without so much red tape?" snapped Darry. "Come on, Skipper! Get out the boat."
"You mean the little girl who stood righthere?" asked the man. "Well, now, I saw how she was playing her line. She didn't have it fastened to a cleat. And she sure didn't just now fasten it when she went overboard. No, I guess not."
"Oh! Maybe he is right," cried Jessie, with much relief.
"Well, I declare!" grumbled Darry. "It takes you girls to stir up excitement."
"But where is little Hen?" Amy asked, whirling around to face her brother.
They all stared at one another. The skipper wagged his head.
"You'd better look around, alow and aloft, and see if she ain't to be found. If she did go down, she ain't come up again, that's sure."
"But that splash!" cried Jessie, anxiously.
"Wasn't any splash except when I threw that big flatfish overboard," said the skipper. "And the little girl didn't scream. I guess she's inboard rather than overboard—yes, ma'am!"
The four young people separated and scoured the yacht, both on deck and below. At least, the girls looked through the cabin and the staterooms and the boys went into the tiny forecastle. They met again in five minutes or so and stared wonderingly at each other. Little Henrietta had as utterly disappeared as though she had melted into thin air.
"What can have happened to the poor little thing?" cried Amy, now almost in tears.
"Of course, she must be on the boat if she hasn't fallen overboard," Jessie replied hesitatingly.
"That is wisdom," remarked Burd Alling, dryly. "She hasn't flown away, that's sure."
The two mothers were on the afterdeck in comfortable chairs; Jessie hated to disturb them, for Mrs. Norwood and Mrs. Drew had not heard the first outcry regarding Henrietta. Mr. Norwood and Mr. Drew were busy with their fishing-lines. Neither of the four adult passengers had seen the child.
"I'll be hanged, but that is the greatest kid I ever saw!" exclaimed Darry Drew with vigor. "She's always in some mischief or other."
"I am so afraid she is in trouble," confessed Jessie. "You know, we are responsible to her cousin Bertha Blair for her safety."
"If the kid wants to dive overboard, are we to be held responsible?" demanded Burd, somewhat crossly.
"You hard-hearted boy!" exclaimed Amy. "Of course it is your fault if anything happens to Hennie."
"I told you, Drew, that you were making a big mistake to let this crowd of girls aboard theMarigold," complained the stocky youth, sighingdeeply. "While this was strictly a bachelor barque we were all right."
Jessie, however, was really too much worried to enter into any repartee of this character. She ran off again to the cabin to have a second look for Henrietta. She found no trace of her except the doll she had brought aboard and the green parasol.
She went back on deck. The fishermen were beginning to haul in weakfish and an occasional tautog, or blackfish. Amy, with a shout, hauled in Henrietta's line and got inboard a fine flounder.
"Anyway, we'll have a big fish-fry for supper. The men will clean the fish and Darry and Burd will fry them. Your mother and mine, Jess, say that they have got through with the galley for the day."
"Oh!" ejaculated Jessie and, whirling suddenly around, started for the galley slide.
"Where are you going?" cried Amy. "Do help me with this flopping fish. I can't get the hook out."
Her chum did not halt. She knew that nobody had thought to look into the cook's galley that had been shut up after lunch. She forced back the slide and peered in.
There on the deck of the little compartment, with her back against the wall, or bulkhead, was Henrietta. On one side was a jar of strawberryjam only half full. Much of the sticky sweet was smeared upon the cracker clutched in the child's hand and upon her face and the front of her frock. Henrietta was asleep!
"What is it?" demanded Amy, who had followed her more excited chum. "What's happened to her?"
"Look at that!" exclaimed Jessie, dramatically.
Darry and Burd drew near. Amy burst into stifled laughter.
"What do you know about that kid? She asked me if she could have a bite between meals and I told her of course she could. But I never thought she would take me so at my word." Amy's laughter was no longer stifled.
"Fishing in the jam jar is more to Hen's taste than fishing in the ocean," observed Darry.
"Nervy kid!" exclaimed Burd. "I'd like some of that jam myself."
"Bring him away," commanded Jessie, pushing to the slide. "She might as well sleep. We will know where she is, anyway."
This little scare rather broke up the fishing for the Roselawn girls and the college boys. They went to the wireless room which had been built on deck behind the wheelhouse, and Darry put on the head harness and opened the key by which he took the messages he was able to obtain out of the air.
The girls were particularly interested in this form of radio telegraphy at this time. Darry had bought and was establishing a regular radio telephone receiving set, too. He could give Jessie and Amy a deal of information about the Morse alphabet as used in the commercial wireless service.
"Practice makes perfect," he told them. "You can buy an ordinary key and sounder and practice until you can send fast. While you are learning that you automatically learn to read Morse. But I'll have the radio set all right shortly and then we can get the station concerts."
"How near we'll be to that station on the island!" Amy cried. "It ought to sound as though it were right in our ears."
"Not through your radiophone," said her brother. "That station is a great brute of a commercial and signal station. It sends clear to the European shore. No concerts broadcasted from there. Now, let's see if we can get some gossip out of the air."
The girls took turns listening in, even though they could not understand more than a letter or two of Morse. Darry translated for their benefit certain general messages he caught. They learned that operators on the trans-Atlantic liners and on the cargo boats often talked back and forth, swapping yarns, news, and personal information.Occasionally a navy operator "crashed in" with a few words.
Calls came for vessels all up and down the North Atlantic. Information as to weather indications were broadcasted from Arlington. The air seemed full of voices, each to be caught at a certain wave-length.
"It is wonderful!" Jessie exclaimed. "'Gossip out of the air' is the right name for it. Just think of it, Amy! When we were born there was very little known about all this wonderful wireless."
"Sh!" commanded her chum. "Don't remind folks how frightfully young we are."
CHAPTER X
ISLAND ADVENTURES
TheMarigoldloafed along within sight of the beaches that evening and the girls and their friends reclined in the deck-chairs and watched the parti-colored electric lights that wreathed the shore-front. Jessie was careful to keep Henrietta near by. She began to realize that looking after the freckle-faced little girl was going to be something of a trial.
Henrietta finally grew sleepy and Jessie and Amy took her below, helped her undress, and tucked her into a berth. The Roselawn girls' mothers were much amused by this. Their daughters had taken a task upon themselves that would, as Mrs. Norwood said, teach them something.
"And it will not hurt them," Mrs. Drew agreed, with an answering smile. "Amy, especially, needs to know what 'duty' means."
"Anyway, we'll know where she is while she is asleep," Jessie said to her chum, as they left the little girl.
"If she isn't a somnambulist," chuckled Amy. "We forgot to ask Mrs. Foley or Bertha that."
The ground swell lulled the girls to sleep that night, and even Henrietta did not awake until the first breakfast call in the morning. Through the port-light Jessie and Amy saw Burd Alling "bursting his cheeks with sound" as he essayed the changes on the key-bugle.
TheMarigoldwas slipping along the coast easily, with the northern end of Station Island already in sight. The castlelike hotel sprawled all over the headland, but the widest bathing beach was just below it. Next were the premises of the Hackle Island Gold Club, with its pastures, shrubberies, and several water-holes. It was to a part of these enclosed premises that Mr. Norwood said little Henrietta Haney was laying claim.
"And I believe she will get it in time. Most of the land on which those summer houses beyond the golf course stand is also within the lines of the Padriac Haney place."
He explained this to them while they all paced the deck after breakfast. The yacht was headed in toward the dock near the bungalows, some of which were very cheaply built and stood upon stilts near the shore.
The tall gray staff of the abandoned lighthouse was the landmark at the extreme southern end of the island. The sending and receiving station of the commercial wireless company was at thelighthouse, and the party aboard theMarigoldcould see the very tall antenna connected therewith.
The yacht landed the party and their baggage about ten o'clock. Mrs. Norwood's servants were at hand to help, and a decrepit express wagon belonging to a "native" aided in the transportation of the goods to the big bungalow which was some rods back from the shore. There were no automobiles on the island.
"Is this my house?" Henrietta demanded the moment she learned which dwelling the party of vacationists would occupy.
"It may prove to be your house in the end," Jessie told her.
"When's the end?" was the blunt query. "How long do I have to wait?"
"We can't tell that. My mother has the house for the summer. She has hired it for us all to live in."
"Who does she pay? Do I get any of the money?" continued the little girl. "If this island is going to be mine some time, why not now? Why wait for something that is mine?"
It was very difficult for Jessie and Amy to make her understand the situation. In fact, she began to feel and express doubts about the attempt that was being made to discover and settle the legal phases of the Padriac Haney estate.
"If I don't get my money and my island pretty soon somebody else will get it instead," was the little girl's confident statement.
"Oh, Jess!" exclaimed Amy under her breath, "suppose that should be so. You know Belle Ringold's father is trying to prove his title to the same property."
"Hush!" said Jessie. "Don't let little Hen hear about that. She is getting hard to manage as it is. Henrietta! Where are you going now?" she called after the little girl.
"I'm going out to take a look at some of my island," declared the child, as she banged the screen door.
"She's sure to get into trouble," Jessie observed, sighing.
"Oh, let her go," Amy declared. "Why worry? You can't watch her every minute we are here. She can't very well fall overboard from this island."
"I don't know. She manages to do the most unexpected things," said Jessie.
But there was so much to do in helping settle things and make the sparsely furnished bungalow comfortable that Jessie did not think for a while about Henrietta. Besides, she was desirous of setting up the radio instruments at once and stringing the antenna.
Darry and Burd helped the girls do this last.They worked hard, for they had first of all to plant in the sands some distance from the house an old mast that Mr. Norwood bought so as to erect the wires at least thirty feet above the ground.
The antenna were not completed at nightfall. Then, of a sudden, everybody began to wonder about Henrietta. Where was she? It was remembered that she had not been seen during most of the afternoon.
"Oh, dear!" worried Jessie. "It is my fault. I should not have let her go out alone that time, Amy."
"She said she wanted to see her island, I remember," admitted her chum, with some gravity. "And this island is a pretty big place, and it is growing dark."
"She could not get into any trouble if she stayed on Hackle Island," declared Darry. "What a kid!"
"And she certainly couldn't have got off it," suggested Burd.
"We must look around for her," said Jessie, with conviction. "Don't tell Momsy. She will worry. She thinks I have had my eye on the child all the time."
"You certainly would have what they call a roving eye if you managed to keep it on Henrietta," giggled Burd Alling. "She darts about like a swallow."
Jessie felt it to be no joking matter. The four young people separated and went in different directions to hunt for the missing child. Station, or Hackle, Island at this end was mostly sand dunes or open flats. A little sparse grass grew in bunches, and there were clumps of beach plum bushes. Towards the golf course the land was higher and there real lawn and trees of some size were growing.
The low sand dunes stretched in gray windrows right across the island. Jessie tried to think what might have first attracted Henrietta at this end of the island. She did not believe that she would go far from the bungalow, although Amy wanted to start at once for the hotel. That was the object that attracted her first of all.
Jessie ran toward the far side of the island. It was growing dark and everything on both sea and shore looked gray and misty. The seabirds swept overhead and whistled mournfully. Jessie shouted Henrietta's name as she ran.
But she began to labor up and down the sand dunes with difficulty. It frightened Jessie Norwood very much whenever Henrietta got into mischief or into danger. No knowing what harm might come to her on this lonely part of Station Island.
Nor was this fear in Jessie's mind bred entirely by the feeling that it was her duty to look out for Henrietta. The child was an appealing little creature, though she had had little chance in the world thus far to develop her better and worthier qualities. The pity that Jessie Norwood had felt for the untamed girl at first was now blossoming into love.
"What would I ever say to Bertha and Mrs. Foley if anything happened to the child!" Jessie murmured.
CHAPTER XI
TROUBLE
Jessiewas beginning to learn that to guard the welfare of a lively youngster like Henrietta was no small task. The worst of it was, she was so fond of the little girl that she worried about her much of the time. And Henrietta seemed to have a penchant for getting into trouble.
Jessie called, and she called again and again, as she ploughed through the sand, and heard in reply only the shrieks of the gulls and peewees. Gray clouds had rolled up from the Western horizon and covered completely the glow of sunset. It was going to be a drab evening, and all the hollows were already filled with shadow.
Jessie toiled up the slope of one sand-hill after another, calling and listening, calling and listening, but all to no avail. Whatcouldhave become of Henrietta Haney?
Suddenly Jessie fairly tumbled into an excavation in the sand. Although she could not see the place, her hands told her that the hole was deep and the sand somewhat moist. The hole had been dug recently, for the surface of the dunes was still warm from the rays of the sun.
She stumbled down the slope of the sand dune and found another hole, then another. Dark as it was in the hollow, when she kicked something that rattled, she knew what it was.
"Henrietta's pail and shovel!" Jessie exclaimed aloud. "She has been here."
She picked up the articles. Before leaving New Melford she had herself bought the pail and shovel for the freckle-faced little girl.
Where had the child gone from here? Already Jessie was some distance from the group of bungalows. As Henrietta insisted upon believing that most of the island belonged to her "by good rights," there was no telling what part of it she might have aimed for after playing in the sand.
Jessie shouted again, her voice wailing over the sands almost as mournfully as the cries of the sea-fowl. Again and again she shouted, but without hearing a human sound in reply. She labored on, and it grew so dark that she began to wish one of the others had come with her. Even Amy's presence would have been a comfort.
She came to the brink of a yawning sand-pit, the bottom of which was so dark she could not see it. She began skirting this hollow, crying out as she went, and almost in tears.
Suddenly Darry's voice answered her. She was fond of Darry—thought him a most wonderful fellow, in fact. But there was just one thing Jessie wanted of him now.
"Have you seen her?" she cried.
"Not a bit. I have been away down to the lighthouse. Nobody has seen her there."
"Oh! Who you lookin' for?" suddenly asked a voice out of the darkness.
"Henrietta!" shrieked Jessie, and plunged down into the dark sand-pit.
"Who's lost?" asked the little girl again. "Ow-ow! I—I guess I been asleep, Miss Jessie."
"Has that kid shown up at last?" grumbled Darry, climbing to the sand ridge.
"Is it night?" demanded Henrietta, as Jessie clasped her with an energy that betrayed her relief. "Why, it wasn't dark when I came down here."
"How did you get down there?" demanded Darry from above.
"I rolled down. I guess I was tired. I dug so much sand——"
"Did you dig all those holes I found, Henrietta?" demanded the relieved Jessie.
"Why, no, Miss Jessie. I didn't dig holes. I dug sand and let the holes be," declared the freckle-faced little girl scornfully.
Darry sat down and laughed, but while he laughed Jessie toiled up the yielding sand hill with her hand clasping Henrietta's. "Ow-ow!" yawnedthe child again. "When do we eat, Miss Jessie? Or is eating all over?"
"Listen to the kid!" ejaculated Darry. "Here! Give her to me. I'll carry her. Want to go pickaback, Hen?"
"Well, it's dark and nobody can see us. I don't mind," said Henrietta soberly. "But I guess I'm too big to be lugged around that way in common. 'Specially now that I own this island—or, most of it—and am going to have money of my own."
"She's harping on that idea too much," observed Darry to Jessie, in a low tone.
The latter thought so too. Funny as little Henrietta was, the stressing of her expected fortune was going to do her no good. Jessie began to see that this fault had to be corrected.
"Goodness!" she thought, stumbling along after the young collegian and his burden, "I might as well have a younger sister to take care of. Children, as Mrs. Foley says, are a sight of trouble."
They heard Amy and Burd shouting back of the bungalow, and they responded to their cries.
"Did you find that young Indian?" cried Burd.
"You've hit it. This little squaw should be named 'Plenty Trouble' rather than 'Spotted Snake, the Witch.'"
"Why," said Henrietta, sleepily, "Inever have any trouble—of course I don't."
It was about as Jessie said, however: They were never confident that the freckled little girl was all right save when she was asleep. She had bread and milk and went right to bed when they got home with her. Then the evening was a busy one for the quartette of older young folks.
The radio set was put into place in the library of the bungalow. They had brought the two-step amplifier and proposed to use that for most of their listening in, rather than the head-phones. Although Darry and Burd helped in this preliminary work, the girls really knew more about the adjustment of the various parts than the college youths.
But in the morning Darry and Burd strung the wires and completed the antenna. The house connection was made and the ground connection. By noon all was complete and after lunch Jessie opened the switch and they got the wave-length of a New York broadcasting station and heard a brief concert and a lecture on advertising methods that did not, in truth, greatly interest the girls.
After that they tuned in and caught the Stratfordtown broadcasting. They recognized Mr. Blair's voice announcing the numbers of the afternoon concert program.
But radio did not hold the attention of these young people all the time, although they had all become enthusiasts. They were at the seashore,and there were a hundred things to do that they could not do at home in Roselawn. The sands were smooth, the surf rolled in while ruffles, and the cool green and blue of the sea was most attractive. One of the safest bathing beaches bordering Station Island was directly in front of the bungalow colony.
At four o'clock they were all in their bathing suits and joined the company already in the surf or along the sands. In any summer colony acquaintanceships are formed rapidly. Jessie and Amy had already seen some girls of about their own age whom they liked the looks of, and they were glad to see them again at the bathing hour.
"Is it a perfectly safe beach?" Mrs. Norwood asked, and was assured by her husband that so it was rated. There were no strong currents or undertows along this shore. And, in any case, there was a lifeguard in a boat just off shore and another patrolling the sands.
"I ain't afraid!" proclaimed Henrietta, dashing into the water immediately. "Come on, Miss Jessie! Come on, Miss Amy, you won't get drowned at my island."
"What a funny little thing she is," said one of the friendly girls who overheard Henrietta. "Does she think she owns Station Island?"
"That is exactly what she does think," said Amy, grimly.
"I never!" drawled the girl. "And there is a girl up at the hotel who talks the same way. At least, when she was down here yesterday she said her father owns all this part of Station Island and is going to have the bungalows torn down."
Jessie and Amy looked at each other with understanding.
"I guess I know who that girl is," said Amy quickly. "It's Belle Ringold."
"Yes. Her name is Ringold," said their new acquaintance. "Do you suppose it is so—that her father can drive us all out of the cottages? You know, we have already paid rent for the season."
CHAPTER XII
A DOUBLE RACE
Amy Drewscoffed at the thought of Belle Ringold's tale of trouble for the "bungalowites" being true.
"She is always hatching up something unpleasant," she told the neighbor who had spoken of Mr. Ringold's claim to a part of Station Island. "We know her. She comes from our town."
But little Henrietta continued to tell anybody who would listen thatsheowned a part of the island and expected to take possession of the golf links almost any day. The funny little thing, however, was very generous in inviting people to remain on "her island," no matter what happened.
"Something has got to be done about that child," said Jessie, sighing. "I can't control her. She does say the most awful things. She has no manners at all!"
"He, he," chuckled Amy. "Hen was built without any controller. I wouldn't worry about her, Jess. She'll come out all right."
"I hope she comes out of the water all right," murmured her chum, starting again after the verylively little girl who occasionally made dashes for the surf as though she proposed to go right out to sea.
But for one person Henrietta had some concern. That was Mrs. Norwood. She thought Jessie's mother was a most wonderful person. And when Mrs. Norwood had a chair and umbrella brought to the sands and sat down within sight of Henrietta, the older girls had some opportunity of having a little amusement with the college boys.
"Come on," Darry Drew said. "This staying inshore is no fun. Beat you to the raft, girls, and give you ten yards start."
"O-oh! You can't!" cried his sister, dashing at once for the sea.
"Hold on! Hold on!" commanded Darry. "I don't believe you even know how long ten yards is. Both you girls go in and stand even with that pile yonder. You are headed for the raft. You see the life saver beyond it, I hope?"
Amy made a face at him, settled her bathing cap more firmly, and looked at Jessie.
"Ready, Jess?" she asked.
"We'll just beat them good," declared her chum. "They always think they can do things so much better than us girls."
"'We' girls," corrected Amy, giggling.
"'We' or 'us'—it doesn't so much matter, as long as we win the race," said Jessie.
"All ready out there?" demanded Darry.
"They're edging out farther," observed Burd Alling. "It wouldn't matter if you gave them a mile start; they'd take more if they could. Give 'em an inch and they'll take an ell," he quoted.
"You don't know what an ell is," scoffed his friend.
"It's something you put on a house after you think you've got all the rooms you'll ever need. I know," declared Burd, grinning.
"Come on out!" retorted Darry. "Cut the repartee. You have got to swim your little best, for those two girls are no slow-pokes."
"You've said something," agreed Burd. "Shoot! I am ready, Gridley."
"Huh!" exclaimed his chum. "You have even forgotten your Spanish War history."
"Shucks! They change history so fast now you don't more than learn one phase than you have to forget it and learn some other fellow's 'hindsight' of important events. The only way to get history straight," declared the philosophical Burd, "is to be Johnny-on-the-spot and see things happen."
"Now!" shouted Darry to the girls.
The four splashed in, the girls starting with a breast stroke and the boys having to run for some distance until the sea was deep enough to enable them to swim. The water beyond the ruffle ofsurf was almost calm. At least, the waves did not break, but heaved in, in smooth rollers. As Amy had said: The sea was taking deep-breathing exercises.
Just now, however, she was not making jokes. The two girls were doing their best to win the race. Darry was a long, rangy fellow, and his over-hand stroke was wonderful. Burd Alling—"tubby" as he was—was an excellent swimmer. The girls started with a dash, however, and they kept up their speed for some rods before either felt any fatigue.
The diving raft was a long distance out from the beach, because the sandy bottom here sloped very gradually. This part of the island was ideal for swimming and bathing. If it was finally proved that the old Padriac Haney estate belonged to little Henrietta, she would control the longest strip of beach on the island.
Amy flashed a glance over her shoulder to see how close they were pursued, and almost lost stroke.
"Come on!" panted Jessie. "Don't let them beat you."
"Ain't—go-ing—to," gasped her chum, in four short breaths.
They were more than half way to the raft, and it really seemed as though the stronger—and longer—arms of the two college boys were notaiding them to overtake the Roselawn girls. The latter began to congratulate each other upon this—with glances. They did not waste any more breath in speech.
Rising high to change stroke, Jessie turned on her side and did the over-hand. It heaved her ahead of her chum for a yard or so; and it likewise enabled her to see over the raft. The raft chanced to be deserted, nor were there any swimmers between her and the boat of the lifeguard beyond the raft.
The man in the boat suddenly stood up. He began waving his arms and shouting. As he was looking shoreward Jessie thought he must be cheering her and her chum on. She forged still farther ahead of Amy, and the lifeguard became more energetic in his motions.
Suddenly he dropped upon the seat of his boat, grabbed the oars, and pulled the bow of the craft around, heading it seemed, for the raft. He did act peculiarly.
From behind her Jessie heard faintly a cry from her chum:
"Oh, Jess! What's that? What is it?"
"Why, it is the lifeguard," rejoined Jessie Norwood, flashing another glance over her shoulder, but continuing to thrash forward at her very best speed.
"No, no! That thing! In the water!" Atfirst Jessie saw nothing ahead but the raft. She thought the lifeguard was hurrying to the raft to meet Amy and herself if they won the race. Another glance that she flashed back swept the smooth, rolling sea as far as Darry and Burd, endeavoring to overcome the handicap they had given the two girl chums.
It was only then that Jessie realized that something must be happening—some threatening thing that she did not understand. From the rear Darry's hail reached Jessie's ear:
"Turn back! Come back, Jess!"
"Why! what does he think?" considered Jessie, amazed. "That I am going to stop and let him and Burd beat us? I—guess—not!"
Then she heard the voice of the lifeguard. He was driving his boat inshore with mighty strokes; but he sat facing shoreward, too, using his oars back-handed. He shouted:
"Shark! Shark! Look out for the shark!"
And behind Jessie Norwood her chum took up the cry:
"Shark! Oh, Jess! Shark!"
The word, which had never meant much to Jessie Norwood in her life before, being merely the name of a quite unknown fish, suddenly became the most important of words! She whirled over and took up the breast stroke. She rose high in the water again to look.
Off at one side and seemingly swimming toward them from a tangent, came a gray, sail-like thing, the like of which the Roselawn girl had never seen before. She accepted as true however the identification of the lifeguard. He should know.
The race to the raft became suddenly a double race. More than ever did Jessie Norwood wish to win it! She desired to outswim the dangerous fish of which she had heard such terrible stories.
CHAPTER XIII
MORE THAN ONE ADVENTURE
Jessiewas badly frightened, but she was not too scared to swim as hard as she could for the diving raft. The lifeguard drove his boat around the end of the raft toward the gray, sail-like object which had so startled them all. Jessie remembered of reading that the dorsal fin of a shark shows above water when it swims at the surface. This odd looking thing must be it—it must be!
She measured the distance between it and herself with some calculation. It came on in a halting, undecided way. Perhaps the shark had not yet caught sight of any of the swimmers. Jessie flung up her arm and shouted at the top of her voice to her chum:
"Come on! Come on! Don't let him get you!"
Amy was struggling so hard to reach the raft now that she had no breath left for speech. Jessie saw her splashing on in her wake. Behind, the boys were making a great splashing too, and Jessie realized that it was for an object. The sharkmight be frightened away if they made disturbance enough in the water.
Jessie was now very near the raft and the other three were bunching up not far behind her. The lifeguard shot by in his boat, yelling like mad. Darry shouted:
"Get aboard the raft, girls! Burd and I will beat him off till you are landed!"
"You come right on here, Darrington Drew!" sputtered his sister. "What good will you ever be if you get your leg bit off?"
Jessie reached the raft and seized a loop of rope hanging from it. If it had not been for this assistance she doubted if she could have hauled herself out of the water. When Amy arrived, her chum was lying over the edge of the refuge, and reached one arm out for her.
"Quick! Quick!" cried Jessie.
"Do—don't scare me so!" gasped Amy. "I—I feel just as though he was nibbling at my toes right now!"
But it seemed no laughing matter to Jessie Norwood. Her chum, however, would find a joke in even the most serious circumstance. And the moment she lay on the raft beside Jessie she began to laugh, gaspingly.