Bessie Lavine had written home, as she said she would, regarding her adventure with Wyn when they were overturned by the squall, and all about Polly Jarley. But the result of this letter–and the others that went along to Denton with it–was not just what the girls had expected.
Although Mrs. Havel, in charge of the Go-Aheads, reported regularly to her brother-in-law, Percy’s father, the story of the overturn made a great stir among the mothers especially, whose consent to the six girls living under canvas for the summer had been gained with such difficulty.
“What do you know about this, girls?” cried Frank, on next mail day. “My mother and father are coming out here. They can stay but one night; but they say they must see with their own eyes just how we are living here.”
“And my Uncle Will is coming,” announced Grace. “What do you know aboutthat? Mother has made him promise to come and see if I am all right.”
“Mymother says,” quoth Mina, slowly, “that she doesn’t doubt Mrs. Havel does the very best she can by us; but she and papa are coming up here with Mr. and Mrs. Cameron.”
Bessie began to laugh, too. “Pa’s coming,” she said. “It’s a plot, I believe. He says he has hired theSissy Radcliffe, and all of our parents can come if they like. The boat’s big enough. He will bring another sleeping tent and those who wish can sleep under canvas while they remain. The boat has lots of berths in it. Say! maybe we’ll have a great time.”
“I expect,” said Mrs. Havel, looking up and smiling, from her own letter, “that your mothers, girls, will not really be content until they see for themselves how you are getting along. So we may as well make ready for visitors. They will arrive on Saturday. Some will remain only over Sunday and return by train from the Forge. But Mr. Lavine, I believe, and some of the gentlemen, will be here on the lake for a week, or more.”
“No more oversets, now, girls,” said Frankie. “That’s what is bringing the mothers up here.”
“Myfather is coming to see if he cannot do something for Polly Jarley,” declared Bessie, with emphasis.
But Wynifred Mallory was quite sure that the Lavines–no matter how good their intentionsnow were toward the boatman’s daughter–would find Polly rather difficult. Wyn had been down to the boatkeeper’s house several times alone to see Polly; but the backwoods girl would not be shaken from her attitude. She would not come to Green Knoll Camp any more, nor would she send any word to Bess Lavine.
Bess really was sorry for what she had said and the way she had treated Polly. But the latter was obdurate.
“I don’t want anything from those Lavines,” she replied to Wyn’s urging. “Only that Mr. Lavine should treat my father kindly. I’d pull the girl out of the lake again–sure! But I don’t want her for a friend, and I don’t want to be paid for doing my duty.Youdon’t offer to pay me, Wynnie.”
“No, dear. I couldn’t pay you for saving my life,” Wynifred admitted.
“Neither can they!” retorted Polly, heatedly. “They think they’re so much above us, because they have money and we have none. They are like those millionaires at the other end of the lake–Dr. Shelton and the others. I don’t want their money!”
But Polly’s obstinacy was cutting the boatman’s daughter out of a lot of fun. This fact became more pronounced, too, when the visitorsfrom Denton, in theSissy Radcliffe, came to Green Knoll Camp.
TheSissywas a big motor launch, and there was a good-sized party aboard. When the ladies had once seen how the girls and Mrs. Havel lived, they were glad to take advantage of the tent Mr. Lavine brought. The gentlemen slept aboard the launch, which was anchored at night off Green Knoll Camp.
There were indeed gay times, for instead of acting as “wet-blankets” to the young folks’ fun, the visitors entered into the spirit of the outing and, with the Busters and Professor Skillings from Gannet Island, made a holiday of the occasion.
Both the girls and boys “showed off” in their canoes in the shallow water under the bank, and in their bathing suits. They showed the more or less anxious parents just how skillful they were in the management of the tricky craft.
When the canoes were overturned, the girls and boys were able to right them, bail them out, and scramble aboard again. They could all swim and dive like ducks–save Bessie and Tubby. But Bessie was improving every day, and Tubby nevercouldreally sink, they all declared, unless he swallowed so much of the lake for ballast that he would be able to wade ashore from the middle.
It was now the height of the camping seasonand the Busters and Go-Aheads, with their friends, were not the only parties along the shores of Lake Honotonka. The Jarleys were doing a good business, almost all their craft being in use most of the time. A battalion of Boy Scouts went into camp about ten miles to the west of Gannet Island and Dave and his mates had some friends among them.
Several small steamboats plied the waters of the lake with excursion parties. The people at Braisely Park often came down to Gannet Island and the neighborhood of Green Knoll in their boats. Altogether there was considerable intimacy among the campers and between them and the residents of Braisely Park.
This pleasant condition of affairs brought about the idea of the regatta, or boating sports. Some of the wealthy men at the west end of the lake arranged the events, put up the prizes for certain classes of boat trials and other aquatic sports, had the necessary printing and advertising done, and
HONOTONKA REGATTA DAY
HONOTONKA REGATTA DAY
became emblazoned on the billboards along the neighboring highways and railroad lines.
The events were entirely amateur and were confined to those actually camping on, or living on, theshores of the lake. Arrangements went ahead with a rush, the date being set so close that most of the parents and friends who had come up with Mr. Lavine from Denton were encouraged to stay over.
Some of the Busters were going to enter for the canoeing events, and there was a girls’ contest, too, that interested our friends. Bessie Lavine could paddle a canoe as well as anybody, and she was eager to take part in one or two of the races. So she got out early one morning, with Wyn and Grace, and Mr. Lavine for referee, and they did some good work.
They chanced to get well over toward the Jarley boat landing and suddenly Wyn set up a shout:
“Polly! Polly Jolly! I never knew you had a canoe. Come on over here!”
She had caught sight of the boatman’s daughter paddling near the shore in an Indian canoe. It was of birchbark and Polly shot it along under the stroke of her paddle as though it had the weight of a feather. And, indeed, it was not so heavy by a good deal as the cedar boats of the Go-Ahead girls.
Polly waved her hand and turned the canoe’s prow toward Wyn. Not until she was right among the other canoes did she realize that in one of them sat Bessie Lavine.
“We are very glad to see you, Polly,” declared Wyn. “Are you going to enter for the girls’ races?”
“Good-morning, Polly,” cried Grace, equally cordial. “What a pretty boat you have!”
Polly stammered some words of welcome and then looked from Bessie to Mr. Lavine. Evidently the boatman’s daughter suspected who the gentleman was.
Mr. Lavine was a pleasant enough man to meet socially. It is true that both he and his daughter were impulsive and perhaps prided themselves on being “good haters.” This does not mean that they were haters of that which was good; but that if they considered anybody their enemy the enmity was not allowed to die out.
“I am glad to see you again, Polly,” Bess said, driving her canoe close to that of the boatman’s daughter. “Won’t you speak to me at all?”
“Oh, Miss Lavine! I would not be so rude as to refuse to speak to you,” Polly replied. “But–but it doesn’t do any good—”
“Yes, it does, Polly,” Bess said, quickly. “This is my father and he wants to thank you for saving my life.”
“Indeed I do!” exclaimed Mr. Lavine, heartily. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you did—”
“Oh, yes, sir,” said Polly, hurriedly. “I know all about that. You told me how you felt in your letter. And I’m sure I am obliged to you—”
“For what?” demanded the gentleman, smiling. “I have done nothing but acknowledge in empty phrases your bravery and good sense. I think a deal of my Bessie, and I must show you in some more substantial way how much I appreciate what you did for her.”
“No, sir; you cannot do that,” declared Polly, very much flushed, but with firmness, too.
“Oh, come, now I My dear girl! Don’t be so offish—”
“You have thanked me sufficiently, sir,” declared Polly. “If I did not know better than to accept anything more substantial myself, my father would not allow it.”
“Oh, come now! Your father—”
“My father, sir, is John Jarley. He used to be your friend and partner in business. You have seen fit to spread abroad tales about him that he denies–that are untrue, sir,” pursued Polly, her anger making her voice tremble.
“From you, Mr. Lavine, we could accept nothing–no charity. If we are poor, and if I have no advantages–such advantages as your daughter has, for instance–youare as much to blame for it as anybody.”
“Oh! come now!”
“It is true. Your libelling of my father ruined his reputation in Denton. He could get no business there. And it worried my mother almost to death. So he had to come away up here into the woods.”
“I really was not to blame for that, Polly,” said Mr. Lavine.
“You were! Whether you realize it yourself, or not, you are the cause of all our troubles, for they began with your being angry with father over the Steel Rivet Corporation deal. I know. He’s told me about it himself.”
Mr. Lavine was putting a strong brake upon his temper. He was deeply grateful to Polly; but he was a proud man, too.
“Let us put aside the difference of opinion between John Jarley and myself, my dear girl,” he said, quietly. “Perhaps he and I had better discuss that; notyouand I. Bessie, I know, wishes to be your friend, and so do I. Had you not rescued her from the lake as you did, Polly, I should be mourning her death. It is a terrible thing to think of!”
Polly was silenced by this. But if she did not look actually sullen, she certainly gave no sign of giving way.
“So, my dear, you must see how strongly weboth feel. You would be doing a kind action, Polly, if you allowed Bessie to be your friend.”
“That is true, Polly,” cried Bessie, putting out her hand again. “Do,doshake hands with me. Why! I owe you my life!”
“Don’t talk that way!” returned the boatman’s daughter. But she gave Bess her hand. “You make too much of what I did. And I don’t want to seem mean–and ungrateful.
“But, truly, you can do nothing for me. No, Mr. Lavine; there is nothing I could accept. You have wronged my father—”
He put up his hand in denial, but she went on to say:
“At least,Ibelieve so. You can do nothing for me. I would be glad if you would right the wrong you did him so long ago; but I do not want you to dothatin payment for anything I may have done for Miss Bessie.
“No, sir. Right my father’s wrong because itisa wrong and because you realize it to be such–that you were mistaken—”
“I do not see that,” Mr. Lavine returned, stiffly.
“Then there is nothing more to be said,” declared Polly, and with a quick flirt of her paddle, she drove her birchbark out of the huddle of other canoes and, in half a minute, was out of earshot.
The late July morning that broke upon the scene of the last preparations for Honotonka regatta promised as fine a day as heart could wish.
There was a good breeze from early morning. This was fine for the catboat races and for the sailing canoes. Yet the breeze was not too strong, and there was not much “sea.” This latter fact made the paddling less difficult.
The camps on Gannet Island and at Green Knoll were deserted soon after breakfast. The Busters took their canoes aboard theHappy Day, while Mr. Lavine’s launch, theSissy Radcliffe, carried the girls’ canoes as well as the girls themselves.
They were two merry boatloads, and the boats themselves were strung with banners and pennants. As they shot up the sunlit lake they sighted many other craft headed toward Braisely Park, for some contestants had come from as far away as the Forge, at the head of the Wintinooski.
Suddenly Wyn, looking through the camp spyglass, recognized the patched sail of theCoquette, the little catboat in which Polly Jarley had come to the rescue of the two members of the Go-Ahead Club on that memorable day.
“Polly is aboard,” she told Frank Cameron, passing the glass to her friend. “But who is the boy with her?”
“That’s no boy!” declared the sharp-eyed Frankie. “Why! he’s got a mustache.”
“It’s never Mr. Jarley himself?” exclaimed Wyn, in surprise.
“That’s exactly who it is.”
“I didn’t think they’d both leave the landing at the same time. Do you suppose they have entered theCoquettein the free-for-all catboat race?”
“I shouldn’t wonder. She’s a fast boat if sheisold and lubberly-looking. And Dr. Shelton has offered twenty-five dollars for the winning boat.”
“It takes two to work a catboat properly, too. That is the understanding,” said Wyn, thoughtfully: “a crew of two.”
“Hope they win the race!” declared Frank, generously.
“So do I. And they’ve got Polly’s birch canoeaboard. She will enter for the girls’ canoe race, I am sure.”
“All right,” said Frank. “If you don’t win the prize inthat, my dear, then I hope Polly does.”
“Why, I haven’t a chance beside Bess, I am sure.”
“That’s all right. Bess is too erratic. One day she paddles well and the next she is ’way behind. It’s her temperament. She’s not a steady old warhorse like yourself, Wynnie.”
“Thanks,” laughed Wyn. “How about Polly? What do you callher?”
“I don’t know. I admire her vastly,” said Frank. “But Polly puzzles me. And I haven’t seen her working at the paddle much. I only know that in a skiff she can out row any of the Busters.”
“I fancy she can paddle some, too. And her canoe is as light as a feather. All those birchbarks are.”
“The judges may handicap her, then. But, hullo! what’s that Dave Shepard up to?”
Wyn turned to look at her next-door neighbor. Dave was writing upon a slip of paper. Once he looked across at Frank and Wyn and saw that the two girls were watching him.
He seemed confused, started as though to tearthe paper up, and then hid it under a coil of rope at his feet. But he was very particular to hide every particle of the paper.
“What you doing there, Dave?” demanded Frank, with plain curiosity.
“Oh, nothing,” responded the youth, and rose up, stretching his arms and yawning. It was plain that he did not wish to be questioned.
“What was that paper?” pursued Frank.
“Oh–that–er—It’s of no consequence,” declared Dave, and walked aft so as not to be further questioned.
“Now, he can’t fool me!” cried Frank, under her breath. “Itwassomething of consequence. I–I’m going to see.”
“I wouldn’t,” said Wyn.
“Why not?”
“Well–whatever it is, it isn’t ours.”
“Pooh!”
“And he evidently didn’t want us to see it.”
“For that very reason I am going to look,” declared Frankie. And the moment Dave was out of sight she sprang across the deck and lifted up the rope enough to pull out the paper.
The moment she scanned it, Wyn saw Frankie’s face turn very red. She looked angry, and stamped her foot. Then she burst into a giggle, and slid the paper back out of sight again.
She came back to her friend with a mixture of emotions expressed on her countenance. “What do you suppose?” she demanded.
“Suppose about what?” asked Wyn.
“What do you suppose Dave wrote on that paper?”
“I give it up. Something that didn’t concern us, as I told you.”
“You’re wrong,” cried Frank, divided between wrath and amusement. “And it’s just the verymeanestthing!”
“Why, you excite my curiosity,” admitted Wyn.
“That’s what he did it for,” declared Frankie.
“Whatdid he write?” cried Wyn. “Out with it.”
“He wrote: ‘I bet an ice-cream treat all around that your curiosity will not permit you to leave this alone.’ Now! could anything be meaner?”
“Ha, ha!” chuckled Wyn.
“Don’t you see? We can’t claim the treat without giving ourselves away? I believe I’ll join forces with Bess. Thereisnothing meaner than a boy.”
“Never mind,” said Wyn. “I’ll find some way of making Master Dave pay for the ice-cream treat, just the same. You see if I don’t.”
Soon after this the launches were sent to one side so as to leave the course clear, and the races began. The men’s and boys’ canoe races were very interesting, and Dave Shepard won a sweater, while one of the other Busters got the second prize of a dollar for quickness in overturning and righting a canoe.
Some “funny stunts” followed in the water, and then came a girls’ swimming race. Here the Go-Ahead girls excelled, although there were more than a score of entries. Wyn Mallory won a two-hundred-yard, straightaway dash, while Frank was second and Grace Hedges third in the same race. The people who had come up from Denton cheered the girls enthusiastically. When the parents who had been so afraid for their daughters’ safety saw how well able the girls were to take care of themselves, their anxiety was allayed.
After these swimming contests there was an interval of two hours for refreshments. A caterer had prepared tables of sandwiches and cold drinks, as well as ice cream and cake, on one of the bigger docks belonging to Braisely Park. In fact, it was Dr. Shelton’s dock.
The catboat races were to follow the intermission and Wyn found that the JarleyCoquettehad been entered. She ran over to the dock fromwhich the “cats” were to start for the line, and as she approached the spot she heard loud voices and saw a little crowd of excited people.
TheCoquettewas almost the only catboat left. Dr. Shelton had backed Mr. Jarley up against a post on the wharf and, in a loud and angry voice, was telling the unfortunate boatman what he thought of him.
“Youhave the cheek to be in this race, John Jarley?” cried the angry man. “I don’t mind your daughter–I pity her. But I’m hanged if I’ll let a thief take part in this race–and me offering the prize. Get out of here!”
“Hold on, Shelton!” exclaimed one of his friends. “You’re going too far when you call Jarley a thief.”
“Or else you are not going far enough,” chimed in another. “If you believe Jarley stole those images–and the boat–why don’t you go about it right? Report it to the county prosecutor and have the man arrested.”
“Or, if Jarley isnotguilty,” added another, “I advise him, as a lawyer, to sue you for damages.”
“Let him sue and be hanged to him!” cried Dr. Shelton, who was a great, rough man, twice the size of the boatman, and with all the confidence of his great wealth, as well as his greatmuscle, behind him. “But he sha’n’t sail in this race.”
“We’ll go back home, Father—Oh, let’s go back!” cried Polly, from the cockpit of the dancingCoquette.
But Wyn Mallory knew that the Jarleys must have hoped to win the twenty-five dollar prize. TheCoquettewas being mentioned as a possible winner among the knowing ones about the course.
“Dr. Shelton!” she cried, tugging at the angry man’s arm. “Do you mind if Polly and I sail the boat instead?”
“Eh?You–a girl?” grunted the doctor, “Well, why not? I’ve got nothing–as I said before–against his daughter. It’s the man himself who has no business at this end of the lake. I sent him word so a month and more ago. I ought to have him arrested.”
Win thought it would be less cruel to do so, and have the matter thrashed out in the courts. Mr. Jarley was stooping from the wharf, whispering with Polly.
“I can help her,” Wyn cried, turning to the abused boatman. “Let me–do!”
“You are very kind, Miss Mallory,” said Jarley.
The captain of the Go-Ahead Club leaped lightly down into theCoquette.
“What’s our number–sixteen?” she cried. “Pay off the sheet, Polly. We’re off.” Then she added, in a low tone, to the weeping girl in the stern: “Don’t you mind the doctor, Polly–mean old thing! We’ll win the prize in spite of him–you see if we don’t.”
Already the catboats were getting off from the starting line, in rotation of numbers and about two minutes apart. The course was ten miles (or thereabout) straightaway to the stake-boat, set far out in the lake–quite out of sight from the decks of the boats about the starting point–and turning that, to beat back. The wind was free, but not too strong. The out-and-return course would prove the boats themselves and the seamanship of their crews.
Being a free-for-all race, there had been brought together some pretty odd-looking craft beside the smart, new boats belonging to dwellers in Braisely Park. But the Jarleys’ boat was by no means the worst-looking.
However, it attracted considerable attention because it was the only catboat “manned” by girls.
Wynifred Mallory had done this on impulse, and it was not usual for her to act in such a way. But her parents had gone home and she had nobodyto ask permission of but Mrs. Havel–and she did not really know where the Go-Aheads’ chaperone was.
Beside, there wasn’t time to ask. The catboats were already getting under way. TheCoquettewas almost the last to start. Wyn was not at all afraid of the task before her, for she had helped Dave sail his cousin’s catboat on the Wintinooski many times. She knew how to ’tend sheet.
The Go-Aheads and Busters recognized Wyn, and began to cheer her and Polly before theCoquettecame to the line. Other onlookers caught sight of the two girls, and whether they knew the crew of theCoquetteor not, gave them a good “send-off.”
Polly had accepted Wyn’s help quietly, but with a look that Wyn was not likely to forget. It meant much to the Jarleys if theCoquettewon the twenty-five dollars. They needed every dollar they could honestly earn.
The boatman’s daughter did not stop then to thank her friend. Instead she gave her brief, but plain, instructions as to what she was to do, and Wyn went about her work in a practical manner.
The catboat was sixteen feet over all, with its mast stepped well forward, of course, carrying a large fore-and-aft sail with gaff and boom. A single personcansail a cat all right; but to getspeed out of one, and manœuver quickly, it takes a sheet-tender as well as a steersman.
“Sixteen!” shouted the starter’s assistant through his megaphone, and Polly brought theCoquetteabout and shot towards the starter’s boat.
The boatman’s girl had held off some distance from the line. Number Fifteen had just crossed and was now swooping away on her first tack toward the distant stake-boat. The momentum theCoquetteobtained racing down to the line was what Polly wanted.
“Go!” shouted the starter, looking at his watch and comparing it with the timekeeper’s.
TheCoquetteflashed past the line of motor-boats and smaller craft that lined the course for some distance. The course was not very well policed and one of the small steamers, with a party of excursionists aboard, got right in the way of the racing boats.
“Look out, Wynnie!” shouted Polly. “I’m going to tack to pass those boats.”
Wyn fell flat on the decked-over portion of theCoquette, and the boom swung across. With gathering speed the catboat flew on and on. Although her sail was patched, and she was shabby-looking in the extreme, theCoquetteshowed her heels that day to many handsomer craft.
The various boats raced with each other–first one ahead, and then another. There were not many important changes in the positions of the contesting boats, however, until the stake-boat was reached.
But Number Sixteen passed Thirteen, Fifteen, and Twelve for good and all, before five miles of the course were sailed. TheCoquette, when once she had dropped an opponent behind, never was caught by it.
Wyn was on thequi viveevery moment. She sprang to obey Captain Polly’s commands, and the latter certainly knew how to sail a catboat. She never let an advantage slip. She tacked at just the right time. Yet she sailed very little off the straight course.
The motor boats and steamboats came hooting after the racing catboats that their passengers might have a good view of the contest. These outside boats were a deal of a nuisance, and two of the tail-enders in the race dropped out entirely because of the closeness of the pleasure boats’ pursuit.
“But they couldn’t win anyway,” Polly confided to Wynifred. “Get a bucket of water, dear. Dip it right up. That’s right! Now throw it on the sail. Another! Another! It will hold the wind better if it is wet.”
THECOQUETTESHOT OVER THE COURSE, LIKE A GREAT SWOOPING BIRD.Page 212.
THECOQUETTESHOT OVER THE COURSE, LIKE A GREAT SWOOPING BIRD.Page 212.
“What a scheme!” cried Wyn. “Oh, Polly! I wish you lived in Denton and went to our school and belonged to the Go-Ahead Club.”
But Polly only shook her head. That was beyond the reach of possibility for her, she believed. But she thanked Wyn for suggesting it.
Neither girl let her attention to the present business fail, however. They were on their mettle, being the only girls in the race.
Some of the other crews had jollied them at the start; but the oldCoquettepassed first one and then another of the competing boats, and none of the other craft passed her.
Because of the fact that the boats had started about two minutes apart it was rather difficult to tell which was really winning. The leading boats were still far ahead when theCoquetterounded the stake-boat.
Polly took the turn as shortly as any craft in the race–and as cleanly. TheCoquettemade a long leg of her first tack, then a short one. Whereas it seemed as though at first the other craft were crowding Polly and Wyn close, in a little while theCoquettewas shown to be among the flock of leading craft!
“Only Numbers One, Three, Four, Seven, and Nine ahead of us, Polly Jolly!” reported Wynifred. “And we’re Sixteen! Why, it’s wonderful!We are sailing two lengths to one of some of them, I verily believe!”
“But Conningsby’sElf, and thePretty Sueare good sailers–I’ve watched ’em,” said Polly. “And theWaking Upis splendidly manned. If our sail would only hold the wind! It’s a regular old sieve.”
Wyn splashed bucket after bucket of water into the bellying sail. On the long tacks theCoquetteshot over the course like a great, swooping bird. When she passed near one of the excursion boats the spectators cheered the two girls vociferously.
Half-way back to the starting boat theHappy Day, into which the Go-Aheads and all the Busters had piled, shot alongside the racing catboat manned by the two girls, and from that point on their friends “rooted” for theCoquette.
TheCoquettepassed Numbers Seven and Nine; It did seem as though she must have sailed the course fast enough to bring her well up among the leaders, so many higher numbers than her own had been passed.
But Wyn and Polly were not sure, when they crossed the line, how they stood in the race.
Dave Shepard, at the wheel of theHappy Day, ran directly behind the judges’ boat and stopped.
“Who won?” cried the boys, in chorus. “Where does Number Sixteen stand?”
“How can we tell you until all the boats are in?” returned one of the gentlemen, smiling.
“Of course we know,” declared Dr. Shelton. “And you are quite right to cheer them, boys. TheCoquetteis ’way ahead of everything else–those two girls are corkers!”
Instantly the Busters and the Go-Aheads began to cheer anew. The older members of their party aboard theSissy Radcliffetook up the chorus. Wyn Mallory and Polly Jarley had beaten out the other catboats in the dingy old craft, and had won the twenty-five-dollar prize.
“It’s all for you, dear,” cried Wyn, when Polly kissed and thanked her. “Of course I don’t need the money, while you and your father do. You’ll take it from me–for friendship’s sake, dear?”
“Yes, Wyn. Fromyou,” returned the boatman’s daughter, with trembling lips.
“And now you are coming to try for the canoe prize, too? That will be a five-dollar gold piece. But you will have to fight all us Go-Ahead girls for it. I shall beat you myself, if I can,” laughed Wynifred.
Dave had rushed the motor boat over to the landing and he got Wyn’s and Polly’s canoes into the water. The whistle had blown for the girls’ canoe race the minute before, and the other girls were out on the lake.
Altogether there were forty-three canoes. Some were birchbarks like Polly’s; but the large majority were cedar boats.
“Birchbarks line up at Dr. Shelton’s landing!” bellowed the starter’s voice through his megaphone. “Get me? Shelton’s landing!”
Polly and the few other girls who had the Indian canoes waved their hands and got into position. They kept a pretty straight line.
“Now at the starting line here for you cedars!” cried the man, and Wyn, with her five mates, and the rest of the girl canoeists from all about the lake, tried to obey the command.
But there were so many of them that it was not altogether easy to get into line. Nearly forty canoes were “some bunch,” to quote the slangyFrank, who was, by the way, just as eager as any of the other contestants.
Although Frank believed that Wyn, and perhaps Bess, as well as Polly and Grace, had a better chance thansheof winning the race; there was, of course, a chance of the very best canoeist getting a spill and so being put out of the race.
It is not always the best paddler who wins; there is too much uncertainty in handling the “tippy” craft–especially in moments of excitement, and among many other similar craft.
So there was hope for any and all. The eager faces of the girls in the canoes showed it. They scuffled somewhat to get place on the line; but the entries had all been numbered, so it was merely a case of getting in right and leaving enough space on either side of one’s bobbing canoe.
One of the starters was pulled up and down the line in a skiff to criticise. Not every girl was as fair-minded to her opponents as the girls from Green Knoll Camp, and there was some little bickering before the starter shouted for the whole crowd–both cedars and birches–to get ready.
“At the shot, remember,” he cried through the megaphone. “Once around the stake-boat, to the right, and return. The birchbarks finish at this line, like the cedars. Now!”
A moment later the pistol shot rang out. Therewas a splash of paddles–even a clash of them, for some of the girls were too near each other and too eager.
The spectators cheered–the boys from Gannet Island doing especially well in that line. They were determined to root indiscriminately for the girls of Green Knoll Camp.
But within a very few minutes Dave Shepard shouted to his friends:
“Look what’s coming up, fellows! See Polly!”
“Polly Jolly!” yelled the excitable Ferd. “Is that her in the first birchbark?”
“Of course it is,” responded Tubby Blaisdell. “Well! did you ever see a girl like that before? Look at those arms. She’s got better biceps thanyouhave, Dave, m’ boy!”
For the girls were in their bathing dresses and Polly’s bare arms were displayed to the best advantage as she flashed past the motor boat. Her face was set–her eyes bright. And she weaved back and forth as she drove the paddle with the steadiness of a machine.
“Hooray for Polly Jolly!” yelled Ferd Roberts, again.
The Busters took up the chorus. They could not restrain their enthusiasm, for the pace at which Polly was overhauling the cedar boats was really marvelous.
Of course, it was a foregone conclusion that some of the contestants would drop out. These canoes Polly passed as though they were standing still.
In the lead were Wyn, Bess, Grace, Frank, and half a dozen other girls from about the lake. There were already two spills, and several slight collisions followed. The handicap on the birch canoes was really greater than was expected, for being in the rear, they had to dodge all the overset boats and the other paddlers who did not know enough to keep out of the course.
But Polly Jarley had taken the outside and she shot by all the trouble easily. She was soon clinging to the skirts of the head canoes and it looked, before the turn, as though she would soon be in the lead herself.
Up ahead Wyn and Bess and Grace were struggling almost neck and neck with two strange girls. The captain of the Go-Aheads wanted to win–she wanted to do so very much. She was a good sport, and therefore a good loser; but that does not necessarily mean that onelikesto lose.
Bessie Lavine was paddling splendidly for her–it was evidently one of her good days. Frank Cameron had fallen behind–indeed, she had clashed with another girl and both were out of the race.
Grace Hedges was almost as big and strong as Polly Jarley; but she lacked the training of the boatman’s daughter. Polly was used to hard work every day of her life. That is different from gymwork and a little paddling, or swimming, or other athletic fun a few times a week.
But Grace was doing finely and she even might have won had she not tried unwisely to pass one of her rivals. Her paddle clashed with that of the other girl. Both canoeists were straining hard–and their tempers were a bit strained, too.
“I wish you’d look where you’re going, Miss!” snapped the other girl, and before Grace could return the compliment–had she so wished–the two canoes crashed together and both girls were spilled into the lake.
There was no danger in these spills. Two motor boats followed behind and picked up the swamped contestants.
But before Grace was picked up she saw Polly Jarley flash by in the birchbark. There were but three cedar boats ahead of the boatman’s daughter, and all were coming down the return course, the paddlers straining to do their very best.
Wyn had a splendid, even stroke; Bess was getting heated, and bit her lip as she paddled. It always hurt Bess when she lost. Up from the rear Polly urged her birchbark with long, steady heavesthat seemed to prove her magnificent muscles tireless.
The spectators began to shout for the boatman’s daughter. They saw that she was making a magnificent attempt to win the race.
But when Wyn heard them shouting for another number rather than her own–she did not notice which!–she put forth every ounce of spare strength she possessed.
Bess was left behind by the captain of the Go-Ahead Club. Her canoe quivering, her paddle actually bending under her work, Wyn dashed on. Bess and the other girl were out of the race–hopelessly. It lay between Wyn and the birchbark canoe.
Polly did not withhold her paddle when she saw her friend dart ahead; it was a perfectly fair race. But the boatman’s girl had done so well at first, considering her handicap and all, that there was little wonder if she could not keep up the gruelling work. She had no reserve force, as Wyn had.
The latter dashed over the mark with undiminished speed. Polly only halted long enough to congratulate her.
“It’s dear of you to be glad, Polly, when I know you wanted the prize,” cried Wyn. “But we couldn’t both have it.”
“You have helped me enough to-day, Wynifred,” replied Polly, softly. “Now father and I will go home. He told me how it would be, if he came down here; but at least we won the big prize, thanks to you, and money means so much to us now!”
The day was not over yet for the Go-Aheads and the Busters, although the races were finished. Somehow the news was spread among the campers on Gannet Island and Green Knoll that there was to be a “grand treat” at the ice-cream tables, and they gathered “like eagles to the kill,” Frankie poetically declared.
The waiter brought heaping dishes of cream, there were nice cakes, and Tubby’s unctuous smile at one end of the table radiated cheer. They were all very jolly and nobody asked who was to pay the piper until the waiter gravely brought Dave Shepard the check and a slip of paper.
“Hi! didIorder this feed?” demanded Dave, startled by the size of the check.
“I was ordered to give the check to you–and the paper,” quoth the waiter, calmly.
“Gee, Dave! somebody’s stung you!” croaked Tubby, with his mouth still full.
Dave unfolded the paper slowly, and read in his own handwriting: “I bet an ice-cream treat allaround to the Go-Ahead girls that your curiosity would not permit you to leave this alone.”
“You don’t deny your own handwriting; do you, sir?” queried the waiter, with a perfectly grave face. “I served the company on that order, Mr. Shepard.”
“That Wyn Mallory! She got me!” groaned Dave, and paid up like a man.
“But what’s the use of trying to put a joke over on those girls?” he said to Tubby afterward. “They’re always turning the tables on a fellow.”
“Very good table, too–very good table,” agreed Tubby, smacking his lips. “But you’re so reckless with your promises, Dave.”
Mr. Lavine’s man took theHappy Dayand the canoes back to camp, while the whole party of young folk piled aboard the largerSissy. They had a fine time sailing down the lake and reached the Cave-in-the-Wood Camp at late supper time.
There was still light enough on the water for the voyagers to see a boat rocking on the waves in the little cove where Polly Jarley had first been introduced to the two canoe clubs.
“And that’s Polly and her father there now,” said Dave, quickly.
“Yes. It’s theCoquette,” agreed Wyn.
“What are they doing in there?” askedFrankie. “See! he is standing up and gesticulating–not to us. He’s talking to Polly.”
“That is the place where he had the misfortune to lose Dr. Shelton’s motor boat last winter,” said Wyn. “Don’t you remember?”
“You see,” Dave cried, “he is showing her the place where the limb fell again–and the direction the boat must have taken in the fog.”
“A lotheknows where it went,” said Tubby, scornfully. “He was swept overboard, and as far as he knows theBright Eyesmight have gone right up into the air!”
“But it didn’t explode, you see, nor did it have wings,” laughed Wynifred. “So it took no aërial voyage–we may be sure of that. I’d give anything to find where it sank.”
“So would I, Wyn,” cried Dave. “If we could locate the sunken boat, Mr. Jarley could easily prove he had neither stolen it nor the silver images.”
“I’d give something handsome to have the mystery explained, myself,” said Mr. Lavine, suddenly.
“What would you give, Father?” asked his daughter.
“I’ll tell you,” he replied, smiling. “I understand both of your clubs–the Go-Aheads and the Busters–are anxious to reallyowna motor boat.Frank Dumont, here, tells me he has got to go home with theHappy Dayto-morrow, as his vacation is ended.
“Now, I’ll make you boys and girls an offer,” pursued Mr. Lavine, more earnestly. “You’ll hunt in packs, anyway–the boys together and the girls together. If the girls find the sunken boat I’ll present them with a motor boat as good as theHappy Day; and if the boys have the luck, then the boat shall belong to the Busters. What say?”
“We say ‘Thanks!’” cried Dave, instantly.
“Wethink it is very handsome of you, sir,” declared Wyn, coming over to the gentleman and taking his hand. “And I know why you do it, sir–so I thank you twice. If poor Mr. Jarley could be absolved of Dr. Shelton’s accusation, it would help a whole lot.”
“Humph!” muttered Mr. Lavine, “I heard Shelton going on about Jarley myself to-day, and it made me ashamed–I’m free to own it. I neverdidthink John as bad as all that!”
“It sounds different when you hear somebody else say it,” whispered Dave in Wynifred’s ear.
Mr. Lavine’s proposal, however, met with enthusiastic favor on the part of both clubs. A motor boat would be just the finest thing to own! Both boys and girls determined to find the lostBright Eyesbefore the season was out.
“Did you know,” said Professor Skillings, visiting Camp Green Knoll with the Busters several days later, “that there are several thousand Poles in the Wintinooski Valley?”
“You surprise me,” remarked Mrs. Havel.
“Fine things to grow beans on, Professor,” declared Dave, coming up with a brimming bucket of water from the spring.
“Not the right kind of poles, my boy–not the right kind of poles,” said the professor, smiling gently, and offering Mrs. Havel a cocoanut-cup of the sparkling water. “You see what a misunderstanding of terms will do,” the professor added, in his argumentative way. “A little knowledge–especially a little scientific knowledge–is a dangerous thing.”
“You are right, Professor,” cried Tubby, who was within hearing distance. “Did you hear about what Dr. Mackenzie’s servant girl did?”
“Dr. Mackenzie is very erudite,” commented the professor, dreamily.
“That’s right. Anyhow, the girl heard a lot of talk about bugs, and grubs, and germs, and the like–and it proves just what Professor Skillings says about the danger of knowing a little science.”
“How’s that, Tubby?” queried one of the interested young folk.
“Why, one day the doctor’s wife asked this servant for a glass of water, and the girl brought it.
“‘It has a very peculiar taste, Mary,’ said Mrs. Mackenzie.
“‘Sure, ma’am, it’s all right, ma’am. There ain’t a germ in it, for I ran it through the colander before I brought it to you, ma’am!’ says Mary. Oh, Mary had picked up some scientific notions, all right, all right!”
“I believe there would be more breeze up on Windmill Farm,” observed Wynifred Mallory.
“Wish I was up there, then,” growled Tubby, who had quite collapsed after telling his joke.
“Let’s go!” suggested Frankie.
“There will be plenty of wind bye and bye,” said Dave, thoughtfully eyeing the clouds on the horizon.
“Listen to the weather prophet,” scoffed Ferdinand.
“I tell you!” cried Frankie, jumping up. “Let’s go up into the windmill and see how farone can reallyseefrom that height. The farmer’s wife says it is a great view–doesn’t she, Wyn?”
“I’m game,” responded Wyn. “We’ll be no warmer walking than we are sitting here talking about the heat.”
She and Frankie and Dave started off ahead; but Tubby would not come, nor would Grace Hedges. The others, however, saw some prospect of amusement and were willing to pay the price.
They began to be paid for their walk as soon as they came out into the open fields of Windmill Farm. A little breeze had sprung up and, although it was fitful at first, it soon grew to a steady wind from across the lake.
The distant haze was dissipated, and when the boys and girls reached the top of the hill they were glad they had come.
“I bet we have a storm bye and bye,” Dave said. “But isn’t the air up here cool?”
“Let’s climb up into the loft,” Frank urged. “The farmer’s wife said we could.”
“They’re all away from home to-day,” Wyn said. “But I don’t believe they will mind. When we came up for the milk this morning Mrs. Prosser told us they were going on a Sunday school picnic.”
“I’d like to set the old thing to working,”remarked the inquisitive Ferdinand. “What do you know about it, Dave?”
“It starts by throwing in this clutch,” replied the bigger boy, just inside the door. “If the wind keeps on the farmer will probably grind a grist when he comes back. You see, there are several bags of corn and wheat yonder.”
The girls were already finding their way up the dusty ladders, from loft to loft of the tower. Frank got to the top floor first and called out her delight at the view.
“Come on up!” she cried. “There is plenty of room. It’s bigger up here than you think–and the breeze is nice. There are two windows, and that makes a fine draught.”
The boys trooped up behind the Go-Aheads–all but Ferdinand. But none of them missed him for some minutes.
What a view was obtained from the window of the mill! The whole panorama of Lake Honotonka and its shores, with a portion of the Wintinooski Valley, lay spread like a carpet at their feet–woods and fields, cultivated land in the foreground, the rocky ridges of Gannet Island, Jarley’s Landing, the Forge, the steep shore of the lake beyond the Wintinooski, and so around to the fine houses in Braisely Park and the smoke of the big city to the west.
In the midst of their exclamations there came a sudden jar through the heavily-timbered building that startled them.
“What’s that?” cried Mina.
“An earthquake!” laughed Frankie.
“It’s the sails!” yelled Dave, starting for the ladder. “What are you doing down there, Ferd?”
The groaning and shaking continued. The arms of the windmill were going round and round–every revolution increasing their speed.
“Stop that, Ferd!” shouted Dave again, starting to descend the ladder.
“Isn’t that just like a boy?” demanded Bess, in disgust. “He justhadto fool with the machinery.”
“What do you suppose the miller will say?” queried Wyn, anxiously.
The roar of the whirling arms almost drowned their voices. The wind had increased to a brisk breeze. With the sails so well filled the arms turned at top-notch speed. The tower shook as though it were about to tumble down.
“Oh, dear me!” moaned Mina, the timid one. “Let us get out of here.”
“Why doesn’t Dave make him stop it?” shouted Frankie.
“Why doesn’t the foolish Ferd stop it himself?” was Wyn’s demand.
The other boys were already tumbling down the ladder, and the girls followed as fast as possible. It was rather dark below, and when they came to the ground floor, it was full of dancing dust-particles. Dave and Ferd were busy over the machinery near the door.
“Can’t you stop it, Dave?” shrieked Percy.
“The confounded thing is broken!” announced Dave, in disgust.
“Goodness me!” cried Frank. “I want to get out of here.”
She started for the door; but Wyn grabbed her just in time. Past the open door whirled the sails of the mill–one after the other–faster and faster. And so close were the sails to the doorway that there was not room for the very smallest of the Go-Ahead girls to get out without being struck.
Dave stared around at the others. It was almost impossible to hear each other speak–and what was there to say? Each boy and girl realized the situation in which Ferd’s meddling had placed them.
Until the wind subsided they were prisoners in the tower.
Ferd Roberts subsided into a corner, and hid hisface in his hands. He had done something that scared his inquisitive soul to the very bottom.
He had started the sails, and then, in trying to throw out the clutch, he had started the millstones as well.Theymade most of this noise that almost deafened them.
Finally, however, Dave pushed the power belt from the flywheel, and the stones stopped turning; but there was no way of stopping the sails. To step outside the door was to court instant death, and until the wind stopped blowing it seemed as though there would be no escape.
“And the wind blows sometimes two or three days at a stretch!” cried Frankie.
“It’s lucky Tubby isn’t up here with us,” Dave said, grimly. “He would want to cast lots at once to see which one of the party should be eaten first.”
“Ugh! don’t joke like that, Dave,” begged Mina. “Maybe wewillbe dreadfully hungry before we get out of this place.”
“I’m hungry now,” announced Frankie.
“Itisnear time for luncheon,” agreed Wyn.
“‘Luncheon’! Huh!” ejaculated Dave. “I s’pose that’s the feminine of ‘lunch.’ I could eat a stack of pancakes and a whole can of beans right now. I’m too hungry for any mere ‘luncheon.’”
“Oh, dear! It’s so hot down here,” sighedPercy. “If we’ve got to stay, let’s go upstairs again, where there is some air stirring.”
“Let’s wave a signal from the window. Maybe somebody will see it and come to our rescue,” suggested Frank.
“And what could they do?” demanded Wyn, “These sails can’t be stopped from the outside; can they, Dave?”
“Not that I know of,” replied Dave. “If there was a tree near, a fellow might tie a kedge rope to it, and then throw the kedge over one of the arms. But that would tear the machinery all to pieces, I suppose, it would stop it with such a jerk.”
Just then Mina Everett uttered a shrill cry of alarm. “Look! Look!” she cried. “It’s afire! We’ll burn up in here! Oh, oh, Wynnie! what shall we do?”
The others turned, aghast Therewasblue smoke spurting out around the shaft above their heads.
“Fire!” cried Percy Havel. “Oh! whatshallwe do?”
“Well, your yelling about it won’t put it out,” snapped Frank.
But Dave Shepard had sprung up the ladder and immediately announced the trouble.
“The axle is getting overheated. See that can of oil yonder, Ferd? Come out of your trance and do something useful, boy! Quick! hand me the can.”
But it was Wyn who got it to him. Dave quickly refilled the oil cups and squirted some of the lubricant into the cracks about the shaft. The smoke immediately drifted away.
“The rest of you go up where it’s cooler,” he commanded. “I will remain here and play engineer. And for goodness’ sake, pray for the wind to die down!”
The situation was really serious; nobody among the prisoners of the tower knew what to do.
While the wind swung the arms of the millround and round, there was no chance to get out. Not that they did not all cudgel their brains within the next hour to that end. There were enough suggestions made to lead to a dozen escapes; only–none of the suggestions were practical.
It was less noisy, now that Dave had stopped the millstones; but the building continued to tremble, and the great wheel to creak.
“What a donkey the man was to let them cut his door right behind the arms,” exclaimed Frankie.
“And with no proper means of stopping the sails from inside, once the wind began to blow,” added Percy.
“No. That’s my fault,” admitted Ferdinand. “I broke the gear some way.”
“Well, if we only had an axe,” said one of the other boys, “we might cut our way out of the building on the side opposite the door.”
But Dave had already searched the mill for tools. There wasn’t even a rope. Had there been, they could have let themselves down from the high window to the ground.
“It should be against the law to build windmills without proper fire-escapes,” declared Frank, trying to laugh.
But it was hard to joke about the matter. It looked altogether too serious.
The wind continued to blow steadily–a little harder, indeed, as time passed; but the sun grew hotter. It came noon, and they knew that those at Green Knoll Camp had long since expected them back.
Finally a figure appeared upon the path far down the hill. They recognized Tubby Blaisdell trudging painfully up the slope in the hot sun, evidently an unwilling messenger from Mrs. Havel and Professor Skillings.
They began to shout to Tubby, although they knew very well it was useless. He couldn’t have heard their voices down there, even if the windmill hadn’t made so much noise.
But the girls fluttered their hats from the window and, bye and bye, the stolid fat youth, glancing up while he mopped his brow, caught sight of the signals. He halted, glared up at the window from under his hand, and then hurried his steps.
“Oh, you Tubby!” shouted Frank, at last, thrusting her tousled curls out of the window. “Can’t you help us?”
He heard these words, and looked more bewildered than ever.
“Say! what do you want?” he bellowed up at them. “Don’t ask me to climb up those ladders, for I can’t. And Mrs. Havel and the prof. sayfor you to come back to camp. They think a storm is coming. Besides–aren’t you hungry?”
“Hungry! why, Tub,” yelled down Ferd, “if we could only get at you, we’d eat you alive!”
Tubby looked more than a little startled, and glanced behind him to see that the way of retreat was clear.
“Well, why don’t you come down and get your lunch, then?” demanded young Blaisdell.
“We can’t,” said Wyn, and she explained their predicament.
“Can’t stop those sails?” gasped Tubby. “Why–why–Where’s the man who owns the old contraption?”
They explained further. Tubby went around to the other side and caught a glimpse of Dave playing engineer. The chums shouted back and forth to each other for some time.
Tubby wanted to see if he couldn’t stop the sails by making a grab at them.
“You do it, Tubby, and the blamed things will throw you a mile through the air,” declared Dave. “Besides, we don’t want to smash the farmer’s mill. We have done enough harm as it is. So, there’s no use in backing one of those heavy wagons into it and wrecking the sails. No. I guess we’ve got to stand it here for a while.”
They heard one of the girls calling, and Tubbylumbered around to see Frankie gesticulating from the window.
“Oh, Tubby! don’t leave us to starve–and we’re soawfullythirsty, too,” cried Wyn, pushing her friend to one side. “Get us a bucket of water from the well, first of all.”
“Gee! how am I going to get it up to you–throw it?” cackled the fat youth.
“You get the bucket–and a rope,” commanded Wyn.
“But if he can throw a rope up to us, we can get out of this fix,” Ferdinand cried. “Can’t we, Dave?” he asked of his captain, who had come up the ladders for a breath of fresh air.
“Tubby couldn’t throw a coil of rope for a cent. He couldn’t learn to use a lasso, you know.”
“And we girls could not get down on a rope,” objected Bess.
“We could lower you,” Ferd declared.
“It would have to be a pretty strong rope,” said Dave. “And maybe there isn’t anything bigger than clothes line about the farm.”
Which proved to be the case. At least, Tubby could find nothing else and finally brought the brimming bucket and the line he had found on the drying green behind the farmhouse.
“I can’t throw the thing up so high,” complained Tubby, after two or three attempts.
“Wait!” commanded Wyn.
“Hold on! Wynnie’s great mind is at work.”
“Everybody sit down and unlace his or her shoes. I want the lacings,” declared Wynifred.
“Hurray!” exclaimed Ferd. “Wait a bit, Tubby; don’t wear your poor little self to a grease spot trying to throw that rope over the mill.”
Tubby, nothing loath, sat down and breathed heavily. The daywashot in spite of the high wind.
Wyn got all the shoe strings and tied them together, with a bolt fastened to the lower end for a sinker, and let it down to the ground. There Tubby attached the end of the clothes line and they pulled it up. It was long enough, and strong enough, and Dave carefully raised the bucket of water–and oh! how good it tasted to the thirsty prisoners.
They were all provided with cups, for the Academy teachers and the Denton mothers were rather insistent on that point.
“But, oh, golly!” burst forth Frank, “if they’d only made us always carry an emergency ration.”
“We didn’t expect to be cast away on a desert island in this fashion,” said Dave.
But Wyn had another idea.
“There are melons on the back porch. I sawthem there this morning. Go get us a lot, Tubby. Send ’em up by the bucket-full. And there are tomatoes in the garden, and some summer apples on that tree by the fence corner. We’ll make it all right with Mrs. Prosser. Why, say! we sha’n’t starve.”
“I’ll get you some eggs if you want ’em,” suggested the willing youth. “I hear the hens cackling.”
But all objected to raw eggs and thought the melons and fresh tomatoes would suffice.
“You go back to camp and report,” ordered Dave, through the window. “The prof, and Mrs. Havel will be having conniption fits if these girls don’t show up pretty soon. Tell ’em we’re all right–but goodness knows we want the wind to stop blowing.”
It did not seem, however, as though the wind had any such intention. After Tubby Blaisdell departed it blew even stronger.
It was hard to keep the whole party in good temper. The imprisonment was getting on their nerves. Besides, the sky was growing darker, although it was not yet mid-afternoon; and not long after the fat youth was out of sight, heavy drops of rain began to fall.
Rather, the wind whipped the raindrops in at the tower window. Patter, patter, patter, theyfell, faster and faster, and in the distance thunder rumbled.
The picnicking farmers should be home ahead of this storm; yet, if they came, they could not stop the sails of the windmill. The shaft groaned and smoked, but Dave kept the oil cups filled.
Nearer and nearer came the thunder, and the lightning began to flash. Some of the girls were frightened. Nor was this a pleasant place in which to be imprisoned during an electrical storm. The tall, revolving arms seemed just the things to attract the lightning.
They all were glad–boys as well as girls–to retire to the ground floor of the mill while the elements shrieked overhead and the rain pounded upon the roof and the sails. It was really a most unpleasant situation.