1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511
10512
10513
10514
10515
10516
10517
10518
10519
10520
10521
10522
10523
10524
10525
10526
10527
10528
10529
10530
10531
10532
10533
10534
10535
10536
10537
10538
10539
10540
10541
10542
10543
10544
10545
10546
10547
10548
10549
10550
10551
10552
10553
10554
10555
10556
10557
10558
10559
10560
10561
10562
10563
10564
10565
10566
10567
10568
10569
10570
10571
10572
10573
10574
10575
10576
10577
10578
10579
10580
10581
10582
10583
10584
10585
10586
10587
10588
10589
10590
10591
10592
10593
10594
10595
10596
10597
10598
10599
10600
10601
10602
10603
10604
10605
10606
10607
10608
10609
10610
10611
10612
10613
10614
10615
10616
10617
10618
10619
10620
10621
10622
10623
10624
10625
10626
10627
10628
10629
10630
10631
10632
10633
10634
10635
10636
10637
10638
10639
10640
10641
10642
10643
10644
10645
10646
10647
10648
10649
10650
10651
10652
10653
10654
10655
10656
10657
10658
10659
10660
10661
10662
10663
10664
10665
10666
10667
10668
10669
10670
10671
10672
10673
10674
10675
10676
10677
10678
10679
10680
10681
10682
10683
10684
10685
10686
10687
10688
10689
10690
10691
10692
10693
10694
10695
10696
10697
10698
10699
10700
10701
10702
10703
10704
10705
10706
10707
10708
10709
10710
10711
10712
10713
10714
|
<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
<head>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
<title>The Polly Page Yacht Club—A Project Gutenberg eBook</title>
<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
<style type="text/css">
body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 8%; }
h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.4em; }
h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; }
p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; }
.sc { font-variant: small-caps; }
.large { font-size: large; }
.xlarge { font-size: x-large; }
.small { font-size: small; }
.lg-container-b { text-align: center; }
@media handheld { .lg-container-b { clear: both; } }
.lg-container-l { text-align: left; }
@media handheld { .lg-container-l { clear: both; } }
.lg-container-r { text-align: right; }
@media handheld { .lg-container-r { clear: both; } }
.linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: left; }
@media handheld { .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; } }
.linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; }
.linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; }
div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; }
.linegroup .in2 { padding-left: 4.0em; }
.linegroup .in4 { padding-left: 5.0em; }
div.pbb { page-break-before: always; }
hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom: 1em; }
@media handheld { hr.pb { display: none; } }
.chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; }
.figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; }
div.figcenter p { text-align: center; text-indent: 0; }
.figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; }
.id001 { width:423px; }
.id002 { width:10%; }
.id003 { width:425px; }
.id004 { width:421px; }
.id005 { width:420px; }
@media handheld { .id001 { margin-left:24%; width:52%; } }
@media handheld { .id002 { margin-left:45%; width:10%; } }
@media handheld { .id003 { margin-left:23%; width:53%; } }
@media handheld { .id004 { margin-left:24%; width:52%; } }
@media handheld { .id005 { margin-left:24%; width:52%; } }
.ic001 { width:100%; }
.ig001 { width:100%; }
.table0 { margin: auto; margin-top: 1em; margin-left: 6%; margin-right: 6%;
width: 88%; }
.nf-center { text-align: center; }
.nf-center-c0 { text-align: left; margin: 0.5em 0; }
.nf-center-c1 { text-align: left; margin: 1em 0; }
.c000 { page-break-before: auto; margin-top: 1em; }
.c001 { margin-top: 1em; }
.c002 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; padding-right: 1em; }
.c003 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; }
.c004 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 1em;
margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
.c005 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 0.5em;
margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
.c006 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; }
.c007 { margin-top: 2em; }
.c008 { margin-top: 2em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
.c009 { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
.c010 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 1em; text-indent: 0;
margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
.c011 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-right: 5.56%; text-indent: 0;
margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
.c012 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-right: 5.56%; }
.c013 { margin-top: 1em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 1em; }
.lg-container-b { text-align: center; margin-top:-0.5em; margin-bottom:-0.5em; }
.lg-container-l { text-align: left; margin-top:-0.5em; margin-bottom:-0.5em; }
.lg-container-r { text-align: right; margin-top:-0.5em; margin-bottom:-0.5em; }
</style>
</head>
<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 56834 ***</div>
<div>
<h1 class='c000'>THE POLLY PAGE YACHT CLUB</h1>
</div>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c001' />
</div>
<div id='ifpc' class='figcenter id001'>
<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
<div class='ic001'>
<p><span class='sc'>She Leaned Forward, Intent on Every Point</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c001' />
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center'>
<div><span class='xlarge'>THE POLLY PAGE YACHT CLUB</span></div>
<div class='c001'>BY</div>
<div class='c001'><span class='large'>IZOLA L. FORRESTER</span></div>
<div class='c001'><span class='small'>AUTHOR OF “ROOK’S NEST,” “US FELLERS,” ETC.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class='figcenter id002'>
<img src='images/illus-tpg.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center'>
<div>PHILADELPHIA</div>
<div>GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO.</div>
<div>PUBLISHERS</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c001' />
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center'>
<div><i>Copyright, 1910, by</i></div>
<div><i>George W. Jacobs & Company</i></div>
<div><i>Published November 1910</i></div>
<div class='c001'><i>All rights reserved</i></div>
<div><i>Printed in U. S. A.</i></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c001' />
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center'>
<div><span class='large'>CONTENTS</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<table class='table0' summary=''>
<colgroup>
<col width='15%' />
<col width='84%' />
</colgroup>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>I</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chI'><span class='sc'>The Launching Party</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>II</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chII'><span class='sc'>Glenwood</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>III</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chIII'><span class='sc'>Polly Ships Her Crew</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>IV</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chIV'><span class='sc'>Fitting Out</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>V</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chV'><span class='sc'>On Board the “Hippocampus”</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>VI</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chVI'><span class='sc'>Three Days at Sea</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>VII</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chVII'><span class='sc'>Landing at Lost Island</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>VIII</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chVIII'><span class='sc'>Dropping Anchor</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>IX</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chIX'><span class='sc'>The Captain Calls</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>X</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chX'><span class='sc'>A Home on the Rolling Deep</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XI</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXI'><span class='sc'>Smugglers’ Isle</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XII</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXII'>“<span class='sc'>Girl Overboard</span>”</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XIII</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXIII'><span class='sc'>Polly’s “Current Events”</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XIV</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXIV'>“<span class='sc'>Mr. Smith of Smugglers’ Cove</span>”</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XV</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXV'><span class='sc'>The Pearl Fest</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XVI</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXVI'><span class='sc'>The Captain’s Party</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XVII</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXVII'><span class='sc'>Polly Prepares</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XVIII</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXVIII'><span class='sc'>The Regatta</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XIX</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXIX'><span class='sc'>The First Event</span></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class='c002'>XX</td>
<td class='c003'><a href='#chXX'><span class='sc'>The Winner of the Junior Cup</span></a></td>
</tr>
</table>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c001' />
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c1'>
<div class='nf-center'>
<div><span class='large'>ILLUSTRATIONS</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c004'><a href='#ifpc'>She leaned forward, intent on every point</a></p>
<p class='c005'><a href='#i012'>“Girls, I’ve got it!”</a></p>
<p class='c005'><a href='#i162'>A happy, dripping lot</a></p>
<p class='c005'><a href='#i266'>“First batch of marshmallows ready!” called Ruth</a></p>
<p class='c005'><a href='#i292'>Combing their hair and chatting, girl fashion</a></p>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c001' />
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center'>
<div><span class='xlarge'>THE POLLY PAGE YACHT CLUB</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<h2 id='chI' class='c006'>CHAPTER I</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>THE LAUNCHING PARTY</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>“She was here just a minute ago. Wait till
I find her, girls. We can’t go ahead without
Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth Brooks dropped her bouquet of white
roses on the piano stool, and hurried out into the
long corridor. It was still crowded with people,
although Crullers had played the tenderest, saddest
strains of “Träumerei,” and “Blumenlied,”
to let them know it was time to go home. Ruth
paused on the lower staircase a minute to see
if Polly’s brown head showed anywhere below.
Between the square reception hall, and the
library, stood Miss Calvert, her figure tall and
imposing in its black silk gown of state, even
among so many. If there was one day in the
entire year, when she was radiantly happy, and in
her favorite element, it was Commencement day,
so her girls said.</p>
<p class='c009'>After the closing exercises, the members of
the H. S. Club had managed to slip away unobserved
during the reception. Polly had passed
the secret word around that a last meeting would
be held in the music room before school closed for
vacation time. Yet in spite of this Polly herself,
founder of the Hungry Six Club, and its president,
and chief cook, was now missing.</p>
<p class='c009'>Months before, when the fall term opened, the
H. S. had been formed as a mutually protective
association. Out of thirty-four pupils, twenty-eight
at Calvert Hall were out-of-town girls.
The other six were day scholars, and all lived at
Queen’s Ferry, Virginia. Therefore the six had
banded together, and stood by one another faithfully,
against the united force of the twenty-eight
“regulars.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What did Polly tell us to wait up here for?”
asked Isabel Lee.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Vacation,” came Sue’s matter-of-fact tone
from the curtained window, where she was watching
the long procession of carriages and automobiles
in front of Calvert Hall. “Polly has an
idea, and she wants us to sew buttons on it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, girls, who’s got the chafing-dish? Did
any one remember to get it at all?” Edwina,
which the girls cut short to Ted, looked dismayed
at the others, and nobody responded. It was a
serious moment. If the H. S. Club had possessed
a coat-of-arms, there would have been a
chafing-dish rampant on a field of fire as part
of its symbolism. It had been Polly’s Christmas
present to the club. She had smuggled it in, all
unknown to Miss Calvert or the other girls, and
had beguiled Annie May, the colored cook, to
hide it. On special occasions it made its appearance
at feasts, wonderful feasts, prepared with
the help of Annie May, when the Hungry Six
foregathered behind locked doors, with the chafing-dish
in the place of honor.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Open the door, just a little way, girls,” Polly
would always say, just at the crucial moment,
and the tempting fumes of some chafing-dish
decoction would float away down the long
dormitory corridor, until the noses of the twenty-eight
caught it, and there was an instantaneous
bombardment.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hold it open till the last minute when you
see them coming,” Polly would cry, her brown
eyes dancing with fun, as she presided in one of
Annie May’s huge aprons, and waved a big
spoon. “Just let them get a good whiff of it,
so the clans will gather, and then we’ll bar the
door.”</p>
<p class='c009'>And the clans always gathered. First from
one room, then another, in the upper dormitories,
the “regulars” would troop forth, and cluster
around the door where the day pupils ate their
luncheon. Polly always held that it was wise to
wait until twelve-thirty, as by that time the regulars
would have finished eating. Sometimes
they would catch murmurs from the corridor.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Smells like crab meat,” some one would
whisper, and from the inner shrine Polly would
declaim,</p>
<p class='c009'>“’Tis crab meat, with green peppers.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Then a deep groan would rise from the “regulars,”
and the Hungry Six would smile at each
other, for revenge is sweet. They could not forget
the midnight feasts which the “regulars”
held while they were away.</p>
<p class='c009'>Yet, at the very last minute, they had forgotten
the chafing-dish. Some of the people were
already leaving, and the imposing line of carriages
outside the stately old Hall was growing
thinner.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hadn’t one of us better go downstairs to the
kitchen, and find Annie May,” suggested Ted,
anxiously. “Polly’s probably talking to somebody,
and has forgotten all about us. I saw the
Admiral lift up his finger at her, and that signal
between them always calls Polly to attention.
Wasn’t it dear of him to come and talk to us!
What was it he said? Oh, I know. Look,
girls, like this.” Ted struck a dignified posture
in the center of the floor, her chin set deeply
in her lace collar, her brows drawn down in imitation
of the Admiral’s own bushy ones.</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Standing with reluctant feet,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Where the brook and river meet,</div>
<div class='line'>Maidenhood and—”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Girls, I’ve got it!”</p>
<p class='c009'>In the doorway stood Polly, her curly hair,
brown and glossy as a ripe chestnut, tied back
in a cluster of long curls that reached to her
waist, her brown eyes brimming over with mischief,
and in her hand, wrapped carefully in a
clean pillow case, was something the girls all
recognized by its outlines.</p>
<div id='i012' class='figcenter id001'>
<img src='images/illus-012.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
<div class='ic001'>
<p><span class='sc'>“Girls, I’ve Got It!”</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“I thought of it the very last minute,” went
on Polly, quickly, “Annie May hid it the last
time we used it, you know, and I forgot to ask
her where she had put it. And she’s down in
the back hall, crying over the girls who are leaving,
so of course I couldn’t disturb her. So I
hunted around the kitchen, in the wash boiler,
and up in her room, then I guessed. You know
the linen closet in the back hall. It was in there,
way down under some gray blankets on the bottom
shelf. Wasn’t she the wise old darling to
put it under the gray ones, so it wouldn’t show if
it should happen to get a spot on them! And
then I heard Honoria calling me.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Whatever did you do, Polly?” whispered the
girls, tensely.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I slipped the chafing-dish into a pillow case,
left it on the hall settee, and went to see what
she wanted. And afterwards, Mrs. Yates sent
for me to be introduced to her.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The Senator’s wife?” asked Isabel, eagerly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes’m. She used to be one of Miss Calvert’s
girls when she was young, and she wanted
specially to meet me for the sake of the Admiral.
It’s dreadful, all the things I have to go
through for the sake of that boy. She even said
I looked like him.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly’s low, rippling laugh was smothered by
a judicious toss of a sofa pillow from Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Be quiet, goosie, or you’ll have everybody
rushing up here to see what’s the matter. Put
the pillow case over the chafing-dish so it won’t
be seen, and tell us what happened. Why did
you tell us all to come up here?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly seated herself on the arm of the nearest
chair, and pushed back her hair from her forehead
with a gesture exactly like the Admiral’s.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ladies, and sisters, and dear colleagues,” she
began, in imitation of Miss Calvert’s Commencement
Day rhetoric.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t speechify, Polly,” ordered Ruth,
cheerfully. “Hurry up. It’s getting late.”</p>
<p class='c009'>But Polly went serenely on her own way, which
was characteristic of her.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We stand at the parting of the ways, don’t
we? The last year at dear, precious old Honoria’s
is over for Ruth and Kate. No more will
we six use the historic chafing-dish, no more battle
with the twenty-eight strangers who have
lingered within our gates.” She turned her
head, and smiled at Ted and Sue. “Am I on
the right thread of discourse, sisters? Does it
sound like oratory?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, bozzer,” said Sue, helplessly. “Play
ball, Polly, please, please, play ball.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’ll be good, and stop,” Polly retorted,
laughing. “Listen. All the rest of the girls,
excepting us, are going away on vacations.
Real ones, I mean. And for the next two
months, what are we going to do?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Nothing but rest,” Sue said, dismally.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s just it. We’ll stay around home the
way we always do, have a few picnics, and a few
lawn parties, and all that sort of thing. We
shan’t have any real vacation, anything that is
different from everything else we do the whole
year round, shall we?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Five heads shook in unison.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But, Polly, it would take so much money,”
began Ruth, picking one of her roses abstractedly
to pieces.</p>
<p class='c009'>“If we went any distance at all,” Kate Julian
laid down the book she had been looking over
while Polly talked. She met Polly’s eager
glance, and smiled. Kate was nearly eighteen,
but both Ruth and herself were firm, true
friends of Polly’s, and the Admiral said he approved
because Polly needed ballast now and
then to keep her steady on her course.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, it’s quite a distance,” exclaimed Polly.
“It wouldn’t be any fun to go along the shore
here.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Anybody’d think to hear you, Polly, that you
had a whole island to colonize, and an airship
to travel in,” Kate teased. “I think you’re just
blowing a lovely bubble.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Even Polly had to laugh, for at Calvert Hall
her rainbow bubbles that would float so beautifully
for a whole minute, then turn into air,
were a steady source of fun among the girls.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, you may laugh, but I have the island
even if I haven’t any airship,” she said.</p>
<p class='c009'>There was the soft rustle of silk outside, and
Miss Calvert stood in the doorway. She was not
the typical principal of a school for girls, Honoria
Calvert. There were too many “laughing
wrinkles,” as Polly called them, around her gray
eyes; and the corners of her generous mouth, and
the way the girls clustered about her, told more
plainly than words, how dear she was to them all.</p>
<p class='c009'>“The Admiral is asking for you, Polly, my
dear,” she said. “Won’t the girls excuse you,
now?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tell my commanding officer, ‘Aye, aye, sir,’
please, Miss Calvert,” Polly replied, rising at attention.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hurry, girls,” cautioned Miss Calvert, with a
warning uplift of her finger, as she went back to
her guests. Polly hurried.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls,” she whispered, “report for duty
Saturday afternoon, at Glenwood, all of you, because
if we are going to do this thing, it must
be started right away.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly,” pleaded Sue, “is it anything
where we can have the dear old chafing-dish
feasts?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly turned around as she reached the doorway,
and swung the pillow-case around her head.
Inside it, the chafing dish cover rattled.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Indeed it is,” she cried. “We’ll need it more
than ever. Will you all be sure to come Saturday?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sure,” echoed all of the girls, solemnly.
“Polly’s going to hold a launching party all her
own.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly laughed, and nodded mysteriously.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There’ll be something happening besides a
big splash if I do,” she said, and hurried out to
join the Admiral.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chII' class='c006'>CHAPTER II</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>GLENWOOD</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>The music-room was on the east side of the
hall at its farthest end. As Polly hurried along
the hall, she caught sight of a woe-begone figure,
and stopped short. The Admiral was waiting
for her just beyond the arched entrance to the
reception room. From where she stood, she
could just see his shoulder, and some iron gray
curls which shook a little, so she knew he must
be laughing. The Admiral’s curls were always
a weathervane of his mood. Polly hesitated,
then following her first impulse, she slipped into
the library, and put her hand on Crullers’ shoulder.
Such an unhappy, moist Crullers, though,
very different from the happy-go-lucky, easy-going
girl of the past term. She raised a tearful
face, and sobbed outright.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m not going back home.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’re not!” Polly checked herself. She
was not much given to expostulations. The
shortest way around any trouble was straight
through the middle, she always held. “Why
aren’t you?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The children are down with measles, so I’ll
have to stay here for weeks, and it spoils my
vacation.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly considered. It was not a very joyous
outlook. During the long summer vacation, the
big gray house was shrouded in darkness, and
Miss Calvert usually went to the seashore for a
rest.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe Honoria would take you with her
when she goes away,” Polly suggested, but Crullers
shook her head dismally.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, she won’t. She says she doesn’t want
any such responsibility as I would be. I am to
be left here with Annie May and Fraulein.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly frowned at such an outlook. Annie
May was not so bad. The big-hearted old colored
mammy who acted as cook at the Hall was
far preferable as a pleasant companion to Fraulein,
the teacher of German, with her neuralgia
and shaded eyeglasses. Polly had always said
that she believed those glasses were the whole
reason why Fraulein took such a dismal view of
life. Green glasses were enough to turn Harlequin
into an undertaker.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t you mind, Crullers, precious,” she said,
patting the round rosy cheek nearest her. “The
girls from our own crowd are coming over to
Glenwood on Saturday, and you ask Miss Calvert
to let you come along with them. I have a
plan ahead for the summer, and maybe you could
go with us. Who knows? Don’t cry. I never
cry except when things are all wrong, and I can’t
fix them right. We’ll find a way.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral called in the hallway outside,</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly! Time’s up.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aye, aye, sir,” answered Polly, promptly, and
with a final pat on poor Crullers’ head, she
caught up her cloak and the chafing-dish from
the hall settee, and joined the Admiral at the
door of the reception room.</p>
<p class='c009'>Miss Calvert was standing beside him, and the
tears came in her eyes as she looked at Polly,
slender and sweet in her gown of softest white
mull.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I shall miss her this summer more than any
of my girls, Admiral,” she said, half sadly.
“She has done more this year towards giving
the other girls the right point of view—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, Miss Honoria, I must insist that you
stop filling Polly’s head with such ideas,”
laughed the Admiral, his eyes twinkling proudly,
as he bent over Miss Calvert’s hand with the old-time
grace of a gentleman who could call Virginia
his home state.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t you believe him, Miss Calvert,” Polly
said severely. “He’s a great deal worse than
you are. If it wasn’t for mother’s good, sensible,
Massachusetts spirit in me, I’d be so puffed up
that I’d blow away with the first strong breeze.
But I do like to be praised, indeed, I do. I just
love to be loved and appreciated.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Miss Calvert kissed her, and stood in the doorway,
as the two went down the broad steps from
the veranda. The Admiral’s carriage was waiting,
with old Balaam on the box, smiling till his
face looked like a piece of shirred black satin.
The Admiral handed Polly into the carriage as
if she had been a duchess, and turned to bow
once again to Miss Calvert.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isn’t she a dear?” said Polly, with a sigh of
genuine comfort, as the carriage turned the
corner, and the broad riverside road lay before
them. “It doesn’t seem as though I had finished
my Freshman year at school, grandfather.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Finished?” repeated the Admiral. “Why,
bless my heart, girlie, you’ve just begun now.
Three more years at the Hall, then four years in
college, and then after that I rather think you and
I will tramp around some rare old corners of this
old world that I know of just to freshen up.
And when you come back your aunts will make a
society bud of you, and I shall lose my little messmate.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly’s eyes were grave in an instant. As she
put her head down on the broad shoulder nearest
her, and rubbed her cheek on it, very much like a
satisfied kitten.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’ll never lose me, grandfather. Don’t
you know what mother always said? We were
worse than twins, the way we always stood by
each other, and chummed together. Don’t you
remember?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral stared at Balaam’s back in front
of them. And then he coughed vigorously, and
patted the hand on his knee. It was nearly four
years since Polly’s mother had passed over the
mysterious bourne, from which, we are told, no
traveler returns. Polly had been ten then, and
four aunts had offered separately to bring her
up properly. But the Admiral had stood firmly
on his rights, and Polly had remained at home
with the Admiral, and her old mammy, Aunty
Welcome, to give orders. Welcome had been
in the family since Balaam was first made coachman,
but no one could even guess her age.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Doan’t ask me sech foolish questions, chile,”
she used to say to Polly. “I dun kept ’count till
I was ninety, den I lost track, and I ain’t had no
buffday since.”</p>
<p class='c009'>She stood at the entrance to the drive now,
when the carriage turned into the grounds of
Glenwood, the Admiral’s spacious home on the
river bank. Nearly as tall as the Admiral she
was, and spare and strong as some fine old
weather-beaten pine. In spite of newer fashions,
she wore her bandana folded turbanwise around
her head, and beneath it a few gray wisps of hair
could be seen. Her under lip protruded greatly,
“jes’ on account of making dat chile behave herself,”
she used to say. To-day, she was smiling
grimly, and her deep-set eyes sparkled like old
jet as she looked at the slender figure in white
sitting up so sedately beside the Admiral.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t you know ’nuff to raise dat parasol, and
pertect dis chile’s complexion, Admiral?” she demanded,
haughtily. “Has I got to watch over
her when she’s out of my sight? Ain’t she got a
terrible leaning towards freckles anyway?
Wouldn’t she look fine under her snow white
bridal veil all brown freckles? I declar’ I’m
ashamed of you, Admiral, I suttainly am.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly laughed as she stepped from the carriage
and, slipping one arm around the old figure, entered
the big house. But Welcome scolded
firmly all the way upstairs to the large, cool
south chamber that had been Polly’s special domain
ever since Welcome herself had carried her
into it, a wee baby.</p>
<p class='c009'>It was a delightful room, the dearest in all the
world, Polly thought. The south windows overlooked
the garden, and below the river gleamed
like silver through the thick foliage and clambering
vines. Over the old gray stone walls,
rambled Virginia creeper, pushing its tendrils
even around the window casements, and if one
leaned far out, one might pick a cluster of sweet,
old-fashioned climbing bride’s roses, from the
vine that wound itself around the trellis just
beneath Polly’s pet window.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aunty, don’t I look ’most grown-up?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly stopped for a moment before the long
mirror between the windows, and looked at herself
thoughtfully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“’Deed, you don’t,” Welcome responded, resolutely.
“Ain’t nuffin’ but a baby. Getting so
self-compinionated, dere won’t be any living with
you, chile, not a bit.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I want long dresses pretty soon.” Polly put
the idea suggestively, her brown eyes full of
mischief.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Long dresses! For mercy sakes. Hyar dat
chile talk. Don’t need long dresses any more’n a
toad needs a side pocket.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly laughed as she slipped out of her white
dress and into a simpler one for home use; then
ran downstairs to join her grandfather. On the
right hand side of the lower hall was the Admiral’s
own private retreat, from which Polly
herself was barred admission, save by special permit.
When she reached the foot of the stairs,
she hesitated, and listened. The hallway
divided the house equally, running its full length,
with great doorways at either end, opening on
broad verandas. Every evening before dinner,
Polly and the Admiral walked in the garden, and
told each other the happenings of the day. It
was an old sweet custom, that dated back to
Polly’s toddling days, and they both looked forward
to it as the happy climax to each day’s routine.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly took a golf cape from the hall rack, and
threw it around her shoulders. Although it was
the end of June, the evenings were still cool along
the river, and Aunty Welcome would scold if she
went out into the night unprotected.</p>
<p class='c009'>Stretched out at full length before the doorway
was Tan, the old setter. He lifted his head,
bent one friendly ear towards her, and beat his
long, silky tail lazily on the floor.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tan, you old goose,” said Polly, kneeling beside
him, “why don’t you make a fuss over me?
Don’t you know this is one of the golden days
of life for me? You might at least bark! I
suppose you’re waiting till I finish Calvert Hall
and college besides. Well, let me tell you, sir, it
is something to be through your Freshman year
at Calvert Hall. It is hard work, I’d have you
know.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tan dozed lazily off while she talked to him.
She rose with a little sigh, and went softly out
into the garden. On the top step she paused,
just for a minute, and lifted her face to the
evening light. Polly loved that old garden.
During babyhood and childhood it had been her
wonderland of enchantment, her play country of
mystery and make-believe. It was just sunset
now, and the mellow light turned the old gray
walls of the house into battlements of splendor.
The garden stretched primly before her, with its
beds of flowers, trimly-cut hedges and last of all,
four terraces sloping to the river. An old
cypress stood guard at the rustic steps leading
down to the boat landing. Polly hurried along
the narrow paths until she came to the spot the
Admiral loved best. In the old days she had
always called it the Wishing Seat, for if one
caught the Admiral there at the sunset hour, and
wished a really good wish, it was almost always
sure to come true. Beneath an apple tree it
stood, with banks of lilacs behind it. A rose
bush drooped over one corner, a bush of old-fashioned
musk roses that Polly’s mother had planted
there years ago, palest pink, and so fragrant that
even at twilight the humming birds fluttered
around them lovingly.</p>
<p class='c009'>There had been a sun dial near the old Roman
seat, but only the pedestal was left, and that was
overgrown with morning-glory vines. When
Polly’s brown curls had barely reached the top
of the dial, she had loved to climb the two steps
of the stone pedestal and pick off the little
trumpet shaped buds, and “pop” them. Didn’t
you ever do it? It’s lots of fun.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral sat as usual on the old seat, his
iron gray hair upcurling from his high forehead,
as Polly had told him once, for all the
world like a surprised cockatoo. He was resting
placidly after the unaccustomed excitement of
the Commencement exercises, and Polly looked
down at him with a certain secret pride before
she made her presence known. He was so altogether
right, she had decided long ago, this
grandfather Admiral of hers. He had been retired
from active service for years, and still she
never could understand how the naval forces of
the country managed to get along without him.
He was seventy now, but as tall and straight-shouldered
as a certain naval cadet in the full-length
oil painting over the mantel in the library.
His cheek was as rosy and clear as Polly’s own,
and his eyes like hers were as brown and bright as
a robin’s. He wore a moustache and long imperial,
both silver white, and there was an air of
distinction about him that was totally indescribable.
Polly declared that even the cab horses
standing around the Capitol grounds bowed
their heads when the Admiral passed by. She
slipped her hands over his eyes now, before he
had discovered her presence.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Guess?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Bless me, I couldn’t possibly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, please.” In Polly’s gentlest, most persuasive
tone.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I haven’t the remotest idea who it could be.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then you have to pay a forfeit.” She leaned
over and kissed his cheek, then slipped into the
seat beside him.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Admiral grandfather darling, listen to me.”
It was Polly’s regular way of opening up a serious
discussion. “The girls are coming to-morrow,
no, day after to-morrow, Saturday. There
are seven of us altogether, Sue Warner, Ruth
Brooks, Kate Julian, ‘Ted’ Moore, Isabel Lee,
‘Crullers’ Adams and my own self. Do you
think Aunt Milly will mind my bringing so
many?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral chuckled.</p>
<p class='c009'>“So many? Seven girls, with Welcome and
an old chap like myself to look in on you once
in a while to keep you out of hot water,—that’s
not many, Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly’s face brightened.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m so glad you think so. I was half afraid
we should be too many. And it wouldn’t do to
ask one or two or three, and leave out any, because
we are all mates. You understand, don’t
you, dear?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral said he understood perfectly, and
Polly paused long enough to hug him, before she
asked,</p>
<p class='c009'>“Have you ever seen the place at all?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“In a general way, but I don’t remember much
about it. It’s a quiet, pretty bay, and there’s a
village at one end and a row of summer cottages
along the shore. I went up there to attend a
regatta one year, the first year Milly joined the
yacht club. She did it for the sake of the boys,
because they were very enthusiastic over their new
boats.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But you’ve never been on Lost Island.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Never.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s got such a queer name, hasn’t it? Lost
Island. I wonder if it ever did get lost.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I believe it did. Seems to me that Milly used
to tell how the shore line shifted about with winter
storms, but you girls won’t be there in stormy
weather. If you catch a few heavy equinoctials
along at the end of August, it’s about all you can
expect. From what Milly wrote to me, it is altogether
sheltered from the open sea, and the very
best place you could possibly find for a club for
girls. Better figure on a good stock of life preservers.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I did put down life preservers, grandfather,”
Polly said seriously. “And I showed Aunty the
list, and what do you suppose she said? She told
me that Annie May’s doughnuts would make the
best ones she knew anything about. Isn’t that
delicious?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is you out in dat dew and damp, all uncovered,
chile?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Welcome’s resolute tones rang out from the
upper window, and Polly obeyed instantly. She
might coax and persuade the Admiral, but with
Welcome there was no compromise, and Polly
knew it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m coming right in-doors now, Aunty.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, I should say you was. Dis window
sill’s jest a-soppin’ wet now. Admiral, you ain’t
got any more common sense about dat chile’s
welfare dan if you was a stotin’ bottle.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral rose from the stone seat and tried
to argue the point, while Polly’s dimples danced
mischievously at the quick fire between the two.
Dearly did she love a bout between them.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aunty Welcome, I really must insist, I really
must, on your treating me with a little more respect.”
It was comical to listen to the Admiral’s
appealing tones. “I cannot stand such talk forever.
Even a worm will turn, Welcome, you
know, even a worm.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Pouf,” came from old Aunty’s indignant lips.
“Whoever heard of a worm’s a-doing anything
when it did turn? You come along in out of dat
night air, sah, or you’ll get de collywobbles you’-sef.
Come along, now.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The window closed emphatically, and Polly
meekly slipped her arm around the Admiral’s
elbow, and they went up to the house together.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chIII' class='c006'>CHAPTER III</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>POLLY SHIPS HER CREW</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>The following day Polly was very busy, mysteriously
busy, but not one word did she speak to
anyone of the household, regarding her purpose.
She pored over books in the library, and wrote
items down for future reference. But the Admiral
was able to guess her intentions, for every
once in a while, she would hail him with various
queries.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Grandfather, dear, what’s a cuddy?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Small cabin up for’ad,” responded the Admiral.
“Why, matey?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is it anywhere near the lobscouse?” asked
Polly anxiously, tapping her under lip with her
pencil.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral laughed till the tears came in his
eyes, and he had to blow his nose vigorously.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m sure I don’t see why that’s funny,” protested
Polly with dignity. “It says here that
they tackled the lobscouse in the cuddy.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I haven’t the least doubt of it,” laughed the
Admiral heartily, “and not one scrap did they
leave to throw to the porpoises, either, did
they?”</p>
<p class='c009'>But Polly refused to be teased, or daunted in
her purpose. When the girls arrived on Saturday
afternoon, she was prepared to meet them,
and very businesslike and imposing the library
appeared with the earnest faces gathered around
the old flat-topped mahogany table that stood in
its center.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We all came, Polly,” said Sue, fanning her
flushed face with a blotter, comfortably. Sue
rarely stopped for the fitness of things. If she
needed anything at all, she always took the first
substitute at hand, rather than go without. “It’s
getting pretty warm weather, sister clubbers,
know it?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sister clubbers?” repeated Isabel. “Sue, how
you do talk.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, it is hot, all the same, isn’t it, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly laughed, and stepped to the doorway to
receive from Aunty Welcome’s hands a generous
tray with ice-cold fruit lemonade in a tall cut
glass pitcher, covered with a snowy napkin, and
a plate of fresh honey jumbles.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You be suah and stir dat up well from de
bottom, chile,” cautioned Aunty. “Doan’t want
all juice when you got orange, an’ banana, an’
strawberries, an’ cherries, an’ mint leaves.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, you darling Aunty Welcome,” cried
Ted and Sue, and Ruth blew the old mammy a
kiss from her finger tips, while Isabel and Kate
smiled. They were all favorites with her, and
knew mighty well how to value her favor.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly set the tray at her end of the long table,
and poured out the luscious summer drink while
she went on talking.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There’s one more to come still, girls. I hope
you will all agree with me and be nice to her.
It’s Crullers.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Crullers! Why, she has gone home,” exclaimed
Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, she hasn’t,” said Polly, calmly. “Her
brothers have the measles, and everybody else’s
little brothers and sisters are likely to have it at
Sharon Hill, where she lives, so Crullers cannot
go home for a vacation. I found her crying
when I left you girls last Thursday, and I told
her to come to-day. Do you mind?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t,” Ruth spoke up cheerfully. “I always
liked Crullers, poor little thing.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Poor little thing,” Isabel repeated, dubiously.
“She’s heavier than I am, and can eat nearly a
whole pie at once.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The other girls broke into a peal of laughter
over the protest. Nobody dreamt of taking
Isabel or her protests at all seriously. She was
always the first to see the windmills waving their
terrible arms in the distance, and the first one to
plan the attack on them. Crullers was a favorite
with all the day scholars at Calvert Hall.
Her name was Jane Daphne Adams, but the
combination had proven too great a strain on the
Hungry Six’s sense of humor, so they had cut it
short to Crullers. Four times a month a large
box arrived for Jane Daphne, filled with crullers
from home, and she never failed to donate them
to the chafing dish feasts. Therefore she herself
had been named in honor of them.</p>
<p class='c009'>Before there was time to say any more, there
was a step in the hall, and Crullers herself appeared,
rather shyly, in the library doorway.
She was plump and rosy-cheeked, with deep
dimples and big blue eyes that seemed to question
everything, and if there was anything at all
in the way that Crullers could fall over, she always
took a tumble. At school the girls had declared
that Crullers would trip over her own
shadow any time. She was fifteen, and slow in
every way, slow to think, or act, or speak, or
learn, and awkward as some overgrown lamb;
but behind the awkward shyness there lay a
staunch, faithful nature that Polly knew and
loved. She had found out long ago that it was
far safer to depend on Crullers’ slowness, than
on Isabel’s hasty willingness that usually burnt
itself out like a pinwheel in two minutes.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I didn’t know you’d all be here,” said Crullers,
hesitating. “Hello, Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly kissed her, and seated her next herself
at the table, close to the pitcher of lemonade, for
she knew the surest way to Crullers’ heart.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We expected you,” she said, just as if all of
the girls had signified their intention of adopting
Crullers into their new circle. “Now I
think we may proceed with the business of the
afternoon. I want to read a letter to you girls,
first. It came from my Aunt Milly last week.”
Polly paused, and smiled, as she always did when
she mentioned the bevy of aunts who watched
over her from a distance. “Aunt Milly is grandfather’s
youngest daughter, and she’s a dear.
She lives in Boston, or at least just outside, in
Newton Centre, and she’s married and has four
boys.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What are their names?” asked Sue, promptly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It doesn’t matter, for they will not be there,”
answered Polly, firmly. “Here’s her letter.”
And she read it aloud.</p>
<p class='c010'>“<span class='sc'>My Dear Polly</span>:</p>
<p class='c011'>“I am writing this hastily, on the eve of our sailing
for London town. Your Uncle Thurlow was compelled
to go abroad this summer on business, and offered to take
the boys also, so we are all going to join him in London.
It has occurred to me that if you and father have not
already made summer plans, you would enjoy yourselves
at Eagle Bay. Lost Island has been the boys’ favorite
outing place for years, and I am sure you would like it.
It is on the coast of Maine, not far from Bar Harbor, but
somewhat out of the summer tourist’s beaten track. If
you get tired of roughing it in the boys’ bungalow on the
island, you could stop at the hotel on the main shore. But
if you care for the open, there is a good camp outfit down
there, and some boats, and perhaps you might turn it into
something worth while.</p>
<p class='c011'>“It is not really an island, except when the tide comes
in. There is a neck of land that connects it with the
main shore at low tide. The boys wish me to add that
the Captain will show you about everything, and that he
and Tom have the yachts down at their landing. I hope
you will go, and spend a happy vacation.</p>
<div class='lg-container-r c012'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Lovingly always,</div>
<div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Aunt Milly</span>.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c013'>“Who’s the Captain?” asked Kate.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly shook her head, and laid the letter on the
table. “I don’t know any more about it than
you girls do, but I want to go. Grandfather
is willing to act as consort, he says. You know,
a consort is the ship that trots along to look after
other ships. That means he will stay up at the
hotel near the telegraph office, and have regular
meals. I know him like a book. But Aunty
Welcome will go along as cook, and I suppose
we should have a chaperon.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, let’s don’t,” implored Sue, pushing back
her hair from her forehead, as she always did
when she was listening intently. “Ruth is seventeen,
and Kate is going on eighteen. Let’s do
it all ourselves. It will be ever so much more
fun.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And it won’t be as if we were wrecked on a
desert isle, Polly,” laughed Ruth. “There are
sure to be plenty other vacationers around with
whom we will get acquainted. I suppose there’s
a real house, isn’t there?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly nodded her head.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I guess so, from the letter. Aunt Milly always
lived at the hotel up the beach, and the boys
had an old fisherman’s cottage—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you mean a fisherman’s old cottage?” suggested
Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, anyway, it was a sort of bungalow,
where they camped out. Grandfather says he
remembers that much. We don’t want to take a
lot of things along, girls, just enough to get on
with. I can put all I shall need into a couple
of suit cases, and that will save bothering over
baggage.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But, Polly, what shall we do after we get
there?” Isabel asked, anxiously. “I’m afraid I
don’t quite understand. Are we going to camp
out?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’re going to do just what seems best to us
after we arrive,” said Polly cheerfully. “The
boys had a yacht club, I know, and if they had
one we can have one. I want to go ever so much,
and I want you girls to go too. If grandfather
goes, and Aunty Welcome, nothing can happen
to us, don’t you see it can’t? I suggest that we
organize, or rather reorganize, right now, and
start our first vacation club, and call it, call it—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The Squaw Girls of Lost Island,” said Sue
solemnly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Sue, don’t make fun of it,” said Kate reproachfully
as she leaned forward. “I think it
will be splendid, Polly. You can count me in,
and I’ll bring my kodak along, too, and perpetuate
our memory forevermore.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly,” asked Ruth, suddenly, her brows
meeting in a little frown of perplexity. “May I
say something, please?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, ma’am,” replied the chairman,
promptly, reaching for the lemonade. “Try
some of this, though, before you get strenuous.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I only want to say that I’m afraid I can’t
go, because—” Ruth hesitated.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Ruth, you must go,” cried Polly, anxiously.
She dreaded long explanations. She
knew that Ruth was going to tell right before
the girls that it would cost too much, and that
she felt it her duty to get ready for her kindergarten
training.</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth seemed to read her thought as their
glance met across the table, and instinctively she
shook her head, with its close bands of brown
braids, bound around like a laurel crown.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But we really need you, Ruth,” persisted
Polly. “Kate will be the ship’s husband—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The what?” laughed Kate. “This is all news
to me. Isn’t it just like Polly, girls, to arrange
all our destinies, and then placidly break the tidings
to us at the last minute.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Miss Calvert says I am a born organizer,”
Polly declared, decidedly, “and how on earth can
one organize if one lets every member have her
own way? Ruth, you must go along. As I
said before Kate will be the ship’s husband. I
notice that no one present has the least idea what
that means. I didn’t myself until yesterday.
When a ship is in port fitting out for a cruise,
the ship’s husband is the person who attends to
all repairs, and fits her out for the new voyage.
I like it better than steward, don’t you? So I
want Kate to manage that part of our club
business. Keep an eye on general supplies, and
profit and loss, and all that sort of thing. You
know what I mean, don’t you, Kate?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aye, aye, sir,” said Kate, saluting with uplifted
finger. “Seems to me, though, if I am to
be a ship’s husband to a yacht club, I’ll be a
Mormon, won’t I?”</p>
<p class='c009'>As the laughter subsided, Polly went on.</p>
<p class='c009'>“So if you look after that part of the club,
and I take care of the general business, Ruth
ought to be in charge of the bureau of knowledge.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly,” exclaimed Sue. “Do talk so we’ll
understand you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am,” answered Polly, emphatically. “If
we go to the seashore, we shall do something besides
sail boats, and lie in the sand, shan’t we?
We’ll study shells and seaweeds, and swim, and
fish, and all that sort of thing. Ruth is the only
one among us who has studied up and knows
about such things, and she could take charge
of all that part of the vacation, show us
how to make collections, and preserve them, and
so on.” Polly hesitated. Out on the veranda,
behind the honeysuckle vines and creepers, dozed
the Admiral, with Tan at his feet. Polly wondered
whether he had heard the discussion, and
if he had, why he didn’t come to the rescue. He
always did when there was rough weather or any
breakers ahead.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Would you go, Ruth, if you could?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth weakened. Polly’s eyes were eloquent,
and her tone persuasive.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I should be very glad to, Polly,” she replied
quickly. “It’s splendid of you girls to want
me—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We couldn’t get along without you,
Grandma,” laughed Ted and Sue together.
“Will you surely go?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well,” promised Ruth. “I will go if I can,
and maybe I won’t be glad to.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We need you,” Kate put in, in her steady,
serene fashion. “I’ve never been to the shore.
It must be glorious. The Potomac is dear to us
all, of course, and old Chesapeake seems like an
ocean in itself, but I mean right on the banks of
the real sea—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“‘Old ocean’s grey and melancholy waste,’”
quoted Polly. “That’s where we’re going, Kitty
Katherine.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Neither have I,” Isabel put in reflectively.
“Of course we’ve been to summer resorts, and
stayed at hotels, papa and mamma and the boys
and I, but I mean to go to a stretch of shore
where you couldn’t find a single peanut shell, or
old tin can around. I hope there are great rocks
and plenty of shells, Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“There will be along the Maine coast,” Ruth
explained. “When you get south of Cape Cod,
you rarely find beautiful shells. I forget the
reason myself, but it is something about the tidal
currents. Between Cape Cod and Cape May,
the shells are more common, and there are not so
many washed up along the shore.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Didn’t I tell you that Grandma’s knowledge
would be valuable,” Polly cried, triumphantly.
“Every time we get stranded on any point of information,
we can appeal to our Bureau, and find
out the facts. Crullers, dear, you take the last
jumble. We’ll make you the cook’s assistant,
and you shall eat until your eyelashes have to be
done up in curl papers, and your finger nails
crack.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Crullers smiled at the prospect, as she adjusted
her wide brimmed, dark blue sailor hat, with her
class pin fastened to the band in front.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am willing to help any way I can, if I may
go with you,” she said.</p>
<p class='c009'>“How much do you figure it will cost each of
us, Polly?” asked Kate, practically. “As ship’s
husband, I have a right to know.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Only what we eat and possibly, repairs on the
boats,” answered Polly. “Grandfather says he
will take us up to Portland by sea, and we are to
be his guests. From there we go by train to
Eastport, the nearest village, and then to the
island some way. You figure out how much it
will cost to feed us all per week for eight weeks,
and leave a margin on fish and canned goods.
We can catch the fish when we get there, and
grandfather says he will ship a box of canned
goods up from New York.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I think the Admiral is too kind to us,” protested
Ruth, but Polly frowned at her.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isn’t it my plan?” she asked. “If I am to be
commodore of a yacht club, I must look after
things, mustn’t I? Talk it over at home, now,
and meet here again Tuesday, if you all can.
We want to leave within two weeks, and less, if
possible.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I say the end of next week,” said Kate, judiciously.
“It can be done, Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And don’t forget to bring along the chafing
dish,” added Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly walked down with them to the wide entrance
gates, where Aunty Welcome waited, with
a bouquet of fresh cut roses for each girl.</p>
<p class='c009'>Up on the veranda the Admiral surveyed the
scene with a good deal of satisfaction.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They make me think of a lot of butterflies,
Tan,” he told the old setter. “Or flowers, Tan,
that’s the best simile, a garden of girls. It keeps
the heart young just to listen to their laughter,
old fellow.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tan beat his tail on the floor gently to show
he had caught the sentiment, and approved, and
the Admiral’s face still wore a smile of pleasure
when Polly came up and dropped into the chair
beside him.</p>
<p class='c009'>“How’s she bearing on her course, matey?” he
asked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Handsomely, sir, handsomely,” laughed
Polly. “I am sure they’ll all go. I wonder if
they can sail boats.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Best find out before you start them off for a
yacht club,” advised her grandfather. “Don’t
ship any crew on false premises. You let them
know what is ahead of them before they sign
articles, or you’ll have foul weather as sure as
you’re afloat.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That may be right, grandfather, dearest,
when you’re really shipping sailors, but when
you’re only taking a lot of land lubbers, you have
to explain things to them by degrees, or they’ll
run away.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And how about yourself?” The Admiral
reached down, and pulled at the long, brown
curls that were tied loosely at the nape of his
shipmate’s neck. “Does the commodore of the
yacht club know the difference between a skip
jack and a cat boat?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe she doesn’t now,” responded the commodore
stoutly, “but she will. Just you wait,
and see. And anyway,” she added in a softer
tone, with one of her quick side glances of coaxing
merriment, “if she doesn’t, she’ll have her
consort handy, right over on the hotel veranda.”</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chIV' class='c006'>CHAPTER IV</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>FITTING OUT</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>The following week was filled with what
Aunty Welcome called “doings and makings.”
Every day found some of the girls at Glenwood,
or Polly making diplomatic visits around
to the various families, winning over fathers and
mothers to the project. And she did not go unprepared,
nor unarmed. Not Polly. Whenever
Polly took up a new plan in earnest, she
went at it thoroughly, and gave it a complete
overhauling before she accepted it herself. Mrs.
Lee was the hardest of the mothers to win over,
perhaps because Isabel herself viewed Lost
Island rather doubtfully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you think it is quite safe, Polly?” asked
Mrs. Lee for the twentieth time, as Polly sat beside
her on the long, cool veranda at the Lee
home. “Isabel cannot swim a stroke, and I am
half afraid to trust you girls around the sea.
Does the Admiral really approve?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, indeed, he does, Mrs. Lee. He says he
cannot think of any better way for us girls to
spend vacation after the winter at the Hall. It
will mean the sea air, and bathing, and plenty
of exercise. I think Isabel really needs a
change. She took her mathematics quite hard
this year.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Mrs. Lee smiled at the flushed, eager face
bending towards her. Twenty years back, when
she had been a girl like Polly, she could remember
just such an eager, happy face at Glenwood,
the Admiral’s only boy, Phil, Polly’s father.
Even with four sisters to spoil him, he had remained
the same frank, chivalrous character all
his life.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, you’re a splendid pleader,” she said.
“I suppose I shall have to let Isabel go. Shall
you go by rail or steamer?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“By steamer, grandfather says. To New
York, then to Boston, and then up to Maine.
We will have to take it in sections. And Aunty
Welcome is going with us, and grandfather
too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Are you certain this island is suitable for you
to live on? Perhaps there is only a boathouse
there.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ll just have to wait and find out,” said
Polly, hopefully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Have you figured out the cost at all?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, it won’t be much over two dollars a week
for each of us, Kate says. Lots of people have
house parties, you know, so grandfather says
this is to be my yacht club party. As soon as we
get there, we will organize properly, and see
what the place is like. Isn’t it comical,” went on
Polly, with one of her swift characteristic
swerves in the conversation, “every one of the
girls, Mrs. Lee, has gone at the plan in her own
way! Ruth is designing our yachting suits.
What do you think they are? Dark blue duck,
with middy blouses, and big white collars with
blue anchors on the corners; and for best, white
duck suits with dark blue collars. We’re going
to take two kinds of hats with us: big, rough
straw sun hats to wear on the beach, and white
duck hats for yachting, with turned down brims.
Isn’t that a good idea? Ruth’s aunt is a
dressmaker, and offered to do all the cutting
and fitting for us, and Kate can run a sewing
machine, so there we are. I tell you, this commonwealth
plan is a splendid one when it comes
to saving money.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Mrs. Lee joined in her laughter, and asked
about how much luggage they were going to
carry.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No trunks at all,” answered Polly. “I think
we can manage with suitcases. Two of the
Seniors we know at Calvert Hall did Belgium
and Holland last year with suitcases. It saves
a lot of bother if you have to change cars, or
boats, as we will. Ruth says she doesn’t care
what she wears. She’s going to have morning
classes for the rest of us, on shells, and fishes, and
mermaids, and all that sort of thing, and Kate
has her kodak, and we’re going to develop our
own snapshots.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, I suppose Isabel will have to go, but I
shall add as my contribution to the outfit—life
preservers and water wings—just to be sure you
will be safe.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Water wings,” thought Polly all the way
home. “I wonder what those are. I’ll ask
Ruth.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Sue came down to Glenwood that afternoon,
and the two sat on the box couch up in Polly’s
room, a “Ways and Means Committee of two,”
so the Admiral said.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you know, Polly Page,” said Sue, with
emphasis, “here we are planning to start a yacht
club, and I never was even on a sail boat in all
my life. Ted has been, though. She says she
knows how to sail a ‘cat,’ because her brother
Bob had one at Lake Quinnebaug last year, and
she watched him.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly looked at her meditatively.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What’s a ‘cat’?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“A boat. Ted says it’s a boat built as near
like a box as it can be, and it won’t sink. I guess
even if it happened to turn turtle, you could
climb up on the outside, and sit there till things
cleared up a bit.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly broke into one of her quick peals of merriment.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’d stick like postage stamps, wouldn’t we,
in a good rolling sea on the outside of a boat like
that. I want a thin one, Sue, one that just clips
through the water. The trouble is that most
girls are as afraid of the water as cats. Yes,
they are. Why, even Ted is afraid! She saw
her brother sail a boat, but what does she know
about it herself. We girls won’t have any boys
around to sail our boats for us. We’re going to
learn how to manage our own craft, and it will
do us good too. I had a letter from Aunt Milly
again. She says there are five good sail boats
up at Eagle Bay that the boys left in charge of
the Captain, and they won’t need much overhauling
this year because Uncle Thurlow had
them all repainted and caulked last spring.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Where do they stick the cork?” asked Sue, interestedly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Goose, caulk the seams, I mean, put a kind
of wadding or interlining between the seams in
the hull. And she says if we should need any
more boats, the Captain has several at his landing
of the same build, and uncle left word with
him to take care of us. I don’t know whether
we had better sail in pairs, or each have her own
boat.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, can’t I sail with you, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You would do better with Kate, and let me
have Crullers.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“She can’t sail one bit.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, but she’d make lovely ballast.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isabel says we must have club colors,” Sue
exclaimed, with one of her mental somersaults.
“She wants pale pink and green.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Too much like shrimp salad,” said Polly
gravely. “We want something distinctive, and
yet simple, that will stand sea and sunshine.
Let’s see, sea and sunshine, blue and gold. A
golden sun on a field of blue for a pennant, and
for club colors, blue and gold. How would that
do?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I like that,” assented Sue. “Can I make
them up, Polly? Let me take care of the colors.
I haven’t anything to do for the club specially
as yet. Ted’s making up lists of rare shells and
says she’ll bring the marshmallows.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Marshmallows?” laughed Polly. “What
are they for?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“To toast over a driftwood fire, nights on the
beach. Ted says they’ll come in very handy,
when we’re all gathered around telling stories.
You take a long stick, put a hatpin through one
end, stick a marshmallow on the end of the hatpin,
and toast it. It’s just like broiled whipped
cream.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I know,” Polly leaned her chin on her
palms, and spoke confidentially, “we’re going to
have a dandy time, know it, Sue? Ruth has her
guitar, you, Ted, and I have mandolins, and
we’ll keep up a glee club. The dear old book of
class songs went into my suitcase first thing.
You just ought to see Aunty Welcome’s outfit.
She has a medicine chest that must go even if
everything else gets left behind. Arnica, and
quinine, and ginger, and bandages. Oh, I don’t
know what she isn’t taking along. She says
she’s prepared for any emergency except the end
of the world, and if that happens, she’ll just fold
her hands together, and hope for the best.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe it will all come in handy. Have you
thought about a swimming suit?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly nodded.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Gray flannel,” she replied enigmatically.
“Four yards double width. Short sleeves, low
neck, skirt and waist joined together, and bloomers.
All trimmed up cute with wash turkey red
braid. I bought a pattern, and Aunty Welcome
and I made it our own selves. She says it’s too
pretty to get all wet. Ruth made hers too from
my pattern. Why don’t you buy the kind of
flannel you want, and let her cut it out for you,
and we’ll all help.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Why not hold a sewing bee, and get everything
all done up at once?” Sue’s eyes sparkled
at the notion. “I’ll tell the rest, and we’ll all
come over to-morrow.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Go ahead,” agreed Polly. “I don’t care, so
long as we get all through this week. It won’t
be any fun finding ourselves in the middle of
July, with only a month and a half for vacation.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So the following day, the entire delegation
waited upon its commodore, with raw materials
for bathing suits and caps. Polly turned the
big upper spare chamber into a sewing-room,
and with Kate at the helm, they started out in
earnest. Ruth cut and fitted, under Kate’s directions,
and Kate ran the sewing machine. At
about four o’clock they finished, and on the bed
lay the rest of the suits completed.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s what I call getting swift results from
good intentions,” said Kate, with a sigh of relief.
“Polly, can’t we have some jumbles?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aunty’s fixing something, but I don’t know
what it is, and I wouldn’t dare disturb her till it’s
all ready,” answered Polly. “Come down into
the library, and let’s look at the time-tables
again.”</p>
<p class='c009'>There was no one in sight, as they trooped
down the broad staircase, and the library was
shady and still. They pored over time-tables of
steamers and connecting trains for a while, and,
as Polly said, made the trip twenty times before
they had started.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But we really must be serious, and look after
all these points,” she added. “We’ve had fun
all winter with the Hungry Six. This club has
a real reason for its existence, a purpose, and we
must make it worth while. It always seems to
me as if girls could do so much better if they
would hold hands, and work in unison—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Co-operate,” suggested Ruth.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, that’s just the right word,” Polly
agreed, earnestly. “Boys always co-operate in
their clubs. They seem to have the real feeling
of fellowship. You know what I mean, Kate?
Where all work together for the honor and glory
of the whole, not just for yourself as a member.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Fraulein called it the <i>esprit de corps</i>,” said
Ruth. “It means the spirit of the body, or
brotherliness.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sisterliness, too,” Polly added. “But it
means more than that. It stands for trueness to
one another, and pride in the honor of the club,
don’t you know. You don’t do anything wrong,
and you don’t let any other member do anything
wrong, if you can keep them out of it, for the
honor of the club. Anyway, it’s what we girls
want in our club, and plenty of it. Don’t you
all think so?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Six heads nodded emphatically.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I think we should draw up a set of ironclad
rules, and sign them,” said Ted, solemnly.
“Polly, I’ll prick my finger if you say so, and
sign with real red ink.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’d better not make fun of this, Ted,” protested
Sue. “Polly’s commodore, and you’ll
find yourself blithely walking the plank, if you
aren’t good.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Indeed, she won’t,” said Polly. “I know
you’ll all stand by me. If you weren’t the
truest, dearest lot of girls I ever heard of, I
wouldn’t go to Lost Island at all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here too, Polly,” echoed Kate, with her quick
smile.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Three cheers for Commodore Polly!” Ted
stepped up on a chair, and waved a newspaper
as the girls rose, and joined her.</p>
<p class='c009'>Just at this point the heavy portìeres parted,
and Welcome’s turbaned head appeared in the
doorway.</p>
<p class='c009'>“For de mercy’s sake, ain’t you ’shamed to
make sech a hullabaloo, and de Admiral entertainin’
company.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Who is here. Aunty?” asked Polly,
cautiously.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Senator Yates,” said Welcome. “He dun
traveled clar down from de Capitol on purpose,
and he’s talking business. Doan’t you let me
hyar any sech commotion again. Shoutin’ like
you all’d found a teehee’s nest. What you
s’pose my mammy’d done to me if I’d made a
shoutin’ noise like dat when she had company
folks ’round? If I hyar any more of it, you
can’t have any banana fritters and whipped
cream. No, sah, not one. Sound like a pack
ob geese and guiney hens, all tied in a bag.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, please, Aunty, we’ll be good.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Seven pairs of young arms clasped themselves
around the tall old figure, their owners promising
absolute quiet, if only the banana fritters
would be forthcoming, and Welcome was holding
out with dignity, when all at once the Admiral
strolled along the hall from the garden,
and with him was Senator Yates.</p>
<p class='c009'>“My,” whispered Crullers, as she caught sight
of them. “I never saw so many titles, Polly, as
you have here in Virginia. Seems as if every
one of you girls has a major or a senator or a
general in the family.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“So dey have,” said Welcome, proudly.
“Virginia’s wah dey makes ’em, chile. I
wouldn’t give two cents for a gentlemun who
couldn’t wear some kind ob a uniform, ’deed I
wouldn’t. I wouldn’t take any stock in his pretensions
at all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Senator was taller than the Admiral, and
smooth-shaven. He was one of the youngest
men in the Senate, and was a power in the Old
Dominion. Polly had seen him at Glenwood
often, but to the other girls he was a stranger.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I trust we are not intruding, young ladies,”
said the Admiral pleasantly, as they entered the
library. “This is a business meeting, isn’t it,
Polly? Senator Yates wishes to address the
club on a matter of interest to you all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Senator’s eyes twinkled, as Polly sedately
performed her duty as hostess, and presented
him to the girls in turn.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I can tell you about it briefly,” he said.
“The Admiral understands the details fully, and
will explain them to you later. Mrs. Yates and
myself are greatly interested in your summer
project. We believe in outdoor sports for girls
and boys, and we’d like to see our young girls as
healthy and rosy as wind and sun and fresh air
can make them. It happens that we are immensely
fond of yachting ourselves, although
ours is only a steam yacht, and we miss half the
fun you will have with sailing craft. At all
events, this is the reason for my errand to Glenwood
to-day. Saturday we sail on a short cruise
up to Nova Scotia, and around the coast to the
mouth of the St. Lawrence. If you can get
ready in time, and would care to be our guests
as far as Lost Island, Mrs. Yates and myself
would be delighted to have you and the Admiral.
It is only a family party, Mrs. Yates, Marbury,
and myself. As she told you on Commencement
Day, Mrs. Yates was a Calvert Hall girl,
not so many years ago but what she is interested
in the old school still, and she feels in extending
this invitation to you, that it will be a mutual effort
at reviving the school spirit. What do you
think of the plan, Miss Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly’s dark eyes were a-shine with surprise
and quick, radiant happiness. She almost
caught her breath at the idea.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I—I think it’s just splendid, Senator Yates,”
she cried. “I don’t know how we girls can ever
thank you for your kindness.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Shan’t we be too much trouble?” asked Ruth,
anxiously.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not one bit of trouble,” replied the Senator
heartily. “Seven girls in all, did you say, Miss
Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, sir, seven in all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And do you think you can get ready by Saturday?
Only two days more.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls looked at one another, a little perplexed
at the brief notice, but Polly waived all
doubts aside.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We will be ready,” she said, positively. “We
must.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I will send the motor boat up the river after
you at seven in the morning,” continued the Senator.
“The <i>Hippocampus</i> weighs anchor at
eight. You had better make your arrangements
to meet here at Glenwood, and go aboard at the
Admiral’s landing. It will save time. And I
am very, very glad that I am able to take back
the news of your acceptance to Mrs. Yates.”</p>
<p class='c009'>When they were alone once more, Polly sank
down in a Morris chair, and smiled blissfully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls, have you ever seen the <i>Hippocampus</i>?”
she asked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s a steam yacht, isn’t it?” said Sue, while
the rest listened eagerly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s a dream afloat,” said Polly, solemnly.
“All shining brass, with a white hull, and silk
curtains—silk curtains at the cabin windows,
children—and tufted leather walls, and—”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ted perched herself on the window-seat, and
sang softly, with a comical lisp,</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“I saw a ship a-sailing, a-sailing on the sea,</div>
<div class='line'>And it was filled with pretty things, for Polly and for me.</div>
<div class='line'>There were raisins in the cabin, sugar kisses in the hold,</div>
<div class='line'>The sails were made of silk, and the masts were made of gold.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Goose,” exclaimed Polly, tossing a sofa pillow
at the scoffer. “Wait until you see it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“There’s one thing certain,” said Ruth, “we
shall appreciate our own little flotilla all the
more, when we have seen this queen of the seas.
I think we should send Mrs. Yates a united vote
of thanks.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’ll do it,” Polly declared, reaching for note
paper at once. “I’ll do it now.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Aunty Welcome put her head in at the door.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Anybody hyar want banana fritters, an’
whipped cream?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The meeting was broken up instantly, and the
girls followed Welcome out to the arbor where
the feast was spread. But Polly lingered until
she had written the note of thanks to Mrs. Yates,
and when it was completed she went to find the
Admiral and get his opinion.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is that right, grandfather?” she asked, with
one arm around his shoulders, as she knelt beside
him at his desk.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Seems to be all shipshape,” answered the Admiral,
heartily. He smoothed Polly’s head
tenderly. “How is the Naval Board of Special
Inquiry?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Eating banana fritters, sir,” whispered
Polly. “We’re going to sail Saturday morning
sure.”</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chV' class='c006'>CHAPTER V</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>ON BOARD THE “HIPPOCAMPUS”</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>The morning of the sailing came quickly, it
seemed to the little band of voyagers. Polly
was up, and fully dressed by five, making her
final arrangements, and the Admiral was “on
lookout,” as he said, with Aunty Welcome’s
nephew, Stoney, carrying the luggage down
from the house to the boat-landing.</p>
<p class='c009'>When the girls began to arrive, Polly was
busy pinning and hooking Aunty Welcome’s collar
and belt at the last minute, and it was a labor
of love.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t squoze me, honey, don’t squoze me a
particle,” cautioned Aunty, puffing over the unusual
exertion. “’Deed, I feel as if I had de
equator twined around me now. Whar’s dat big
palm leaf fan? Stonewall! You, Stonewall
Jackson U. S. Grant Brown, you bring me dat
fan instanter, sah, hyar me?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Stoney grinned, and slipped off the Admiral’s
steamer trunk with the fan. Stoney was proud
of his name. Aunty had been strictly neutral
during the war, and when Stoney had been
born, she had been his sponsor, and had perpetuated
her neutrality in his name, with a slight
leaning towards the South.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You had better go ahead with the trunk now,
Stoney,” Polly told him. “Here come the girls.
You go too, Aunty, and that will give you a
chance to rest in the launch a minute.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ain’t you most ready, you’ own self, chile?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“All ready,” laughed Polly, as she took her
long gray cloak over her arm, and her mandolin
case. “I want to say good-by to Mandy and
the rest.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So while Stoney and the others trudged ahead
down the path that led to the little landing by
the riverside, Polly ran to the kitchen, and
kissed the black, shiny cheek of old Aunt Mandy,
the housekeeper, and shook Uncle Peter’s hand.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Keep out of deep water, honey lam’ chile,”
cautioned Mandy, the tears running down her
cheeks fast. “And may de good Lord hol’ you
in de holler of his hand safe from de fury of
tempest, and leviathan, and—and cramps when
you’s in swimmin’.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Amen, praise de Lord, oh, mah soul,” added
Uncle Peter, fervently, and Polly went out into
the garden, with her own lashes wet with tears,
for they had been kind to her ever since she
could remember toddling to Mandy after raisins
and sticks of cinnamon.</p>
<p class='c009'>As Polly left the kitchen, she saw the other
girls coming up the broad walk from the gates,
with suitcases, wraps and parasols, for the morning
was a still, close one, and the latent heat of the
day seemed to lie about the horizon in a golden
haze.</p>
<p class='c009'>The motor launch was waiting for them when
they reached the landing. A sailor in white
duck, with the name <i>Hippocampus</i> in gold letters
on his cap, stood on the little dock, and the
Admiral assisted them on board.</p>
<p class='c009'>“’Deed, Marse Bob,” Aunty Welcome protested,
as she hesitated to take the step into the
launch. “’Deed, I know I’ll swamp you, I
know it. I don’t trust dat lil toy boat no more’n
I would a tea tray. Nevah see sech a shiny lil
baby boat in mah life. Well, for mercy sakes, if
I ain’t in it all safe.”</p>
<p class='c009'>And she laughed till Polly warned her she
would surely burst the equator, as she settled
down in the stern of the little launch, and they
left the landing for the open river.</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls said very little. With flushed
cheeks, and eager, sparkling eyes they were too
much engaged in watching all the new sights
that unfolded as the launch sped along. On one
side were the hills of Virginia, gray green in the
morning light like grass with the dew on it.
Dense patches of wild rice glimmered through
the morning haze to the left. About a mile down
the river lay the <i>Hippocampus</i>, spotless and
silent, like a water lily on the river’s surface.
None of the girls had ever been on a steam yacht
before. They watched this one with eager interest
as they drew nearer and nearer to it.
Everything on board was quiet. A gaily striped
awning was spread up forward. The pennon
of the Chesapeake Yacht Club, of which the
Senator was a member, fluttered lightly from the
mast head, in the gentle breeze. As the launch
came alongside, the Senator himself, in white
flannels, appeared on deck, and greeted them
warmly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I thought you always had to climb a ladder
of rope, when you went over a ship’s side,”
whispered Sue to Polly, as she saw the neat
gangway of steps that led easily from the launch
to the deck of the yacht. “This is much better,
isn’t it?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Indeed it is,” smiled back Polly, holding to
her cap, as the wind blew freshly up the river
from the bay. “Did you notice the figure-head?”</p>
<p class='c009'>It was turned fairly to them, so they had a
good view of the prow with its figure-head, a
great golden sea-horse, curving proudly up from
the waves.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But its head looks like a dragon’s instead of
a horse’s. I wonder how they travel through the
water?” asked Ted.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just as easily as a jelly fish,” laughed Polly.
“They don’t seem to help themselves at all, just
go along with their heads held up high, as if
they thought they owned the whole ocean. And
they are such tiny things, that it seems comical.
Think if a sea horse and a sea cow were to get
into a quarrel. A sea cow could eat a peck of
sea horses at one gulp, and then ask for some
dessert.” And Polly added on the spur of the
moment:</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line in2'>“Whenever you see</div>
<div class='line in4'>A Manitee,</div>
<div class='line'>A Hippocampus said to me.</div>
<div class='line in2'>Be sure and treat,</div>
<div class='line in4'>Her awful sweet,</div>
<div class='line'>Or she’ll gobble you up, from head to feet.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>Polly repeated the lines sedately, but her eyes
were brimful of fun, as she stepped from the
launch, and followed Ruth up the brass railed
gangway. The latter had rubber-padded steps
to prevent feet slipping.</p>
<p class='c009'>It took the united efforts of the Admiral and
two sailors to get Aunty Welcome up that narrow
flight, but they succeeded. Mrs. Yates was
awaiting their coming, forward beneath the awning.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am so very, very glad to have you with us,”
she said cordially, as she clasped each girl’s hand
in hers, and smiled at their happy faces. “Both
the Senator and myself feel indebted to you all
for consenting to be our guests as far as Maine.
This is Aunty Welcome, isn’t it?” She turned
to a broad-shouldered lad beside her. “Marbury,
won’t you take Aunty into the cabin and
introduce her to Dido, so that she will feel at
home?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Marbury obeyed, willingly, for under the
united fire of seven pairs of eyes, he began to feel
somewhat uneasy. In the door of the forward
cabin stood the stewardess, Dido, bowing and
smiling broadly, in her snowy dress of white
linen, with a white cap on her head, and Aunty
Welcome was glad enough to find a kindred
spirit.</p>
<p class='c009'>A cabin boy carried the suitcases and various
wraps away and the girls seated themselves in the
cosy wicker-chairs under the wide awning, and
tried to think it was not all a dream.</p>
<p class='c009'>All about them lay the beautiful river, broadening
out as it approached Chesapeake Bay.
To the east the water glittered like quicksilver
under the sun’s rays, and gulls darted back and
forth with graceful, wide spread wings. Sometimes
they rested on the water and rocked lazily
to and fro like wild ducks. Standing on one leg
on a stretch of marshy land, where the wild rice
grew thickly, a sleepy crane watched them weigh
anchor. The yacht hardly made any more effort
about it than the little motor launch had,
and before the girls realized they had started,
they heard the signal bells and felt the gentle
vibration of the engines.</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth touched Polly’s hand lightly with her
own, as it lay on the arm of her chair. Her face
was turned seaward, and her chin was uplifted,
as if she were drinking in the delicious air.
There was a faint glow in her cheeks, and a smile
on her lips.</p>
<p class='c009'>Tony, the cabin boy, came back, and deftly
spread a square of snowy linen on the green
wicker table, then returned, bearing a huge tray
laden with iced chocolate, strawberries served on
crisp lettuce-leaves like eggs in a nest, buttered
waffles, broiled fresh mackerel under a
silver cover, and lyonnaise potatoes.</p>
<p class='c009'>“The Senator and Admiral will take their
breakfast below together,” Mrs. Yates said. “I
thought perhaps you girls would enjoy it better
on deck, as the view down the river is beautiful
at this hour of the morning. Polly, you may
serve in the Senator’s place, while I pour the
chocolate.”</p>
<p class='c009'>That was a memorable morning for the girls.
Polly said in her impulsive way:</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here we had expected to ‘rough it,’ as the
boys say, camp out, and learn how to sail boats,
and do our own cooking on a deserted island,
and just look at this. I declare it’s enough to
spoil us for the island camp. Who would want
to bother over sails and rudders, and jibs and
booms, and things, when you can manage the
whole ship this way, just by touching an electric
button.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Where’s the button, Polly?” asked Crullers,
dreamily. “I didn’t see any button.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“There are a whole row of them up in the pilot
house,” Polly returned. “I saw them as we came
past. But still,” with a wave of loyalty towards
the unknown island and its yacht club, “I think
I would rather have to fight my way against the
waves. It must be glorious to feel like that gull
over there, as if you had wide spread wings and
were flying low before a gale.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just wait till Polly tries it,” laughed Mrs.
Yates. “It sounds so much easier than it really
is. I remember my first yachting experience
when I was your age, Polly. My father bought
a winter bungalow on the Carolina coast, not far
from Charleston, and it was my first winter in a
warm climate. I had three big brothers, and the
dearest possession they owned in common was a
sailboat that they built themselves. I think they
used to call it a knockabout, and the name of it
was the <i>Say When</i>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isn’t that a dear name for a boat?” cried
Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We went out one day in it, and were running
along with a beam wind on a smooth sea, when
all at once a puff of wind hit us, and before the
boys could start the sail, to jam her down, she
was over on one side, and we all scrambled up
on the planking, to windward, and hung on until
the squall was over, when she righted herself,
but we bailed out over thirty buckets of salt
water.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I hope we shan’t have any such accident at
Lost Island,” said Polly. “Won’t a yacht sink,
Mrs. Yates?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I cannot answer that positively, but I hardly
think one will. Its canvas and the shape of
the hull too, I believe, usually buoy it up; while
a heavy boat that carries machinery will sink
quickly. By the way, have you thought to bring
any buoys or life preservers?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We have some water wings and life preservers
that Mrs. Lee gave us, so we shan’t sink
when we’re learning to swim,” said Sue hopefully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“And Aunt Milly says there is a life-saving
station only a mile and a half up the beach, and
they have a coast-guard service that passes
within hail of us through the night. I think
we’ll be safe.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Mrs. Yates smiled at Polly’s assured tone.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I should feel pretty confident myself with
such protection close by,” she said. “Still it is
just as well for you to take precautions yourself,
in case of sudden danger. Go down to the station
as soon as you conveniently can, after you
are settled, and watch them at their drill.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You mean in giving first aid to the injured?”
Ruth asked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, and in learning how to behave in case
of a boat’s capsizing, or if one of you should fall
overboard. You want to know how to act to
help yourselves. How many in the club can
swim?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly glanced around and took stock of her
crew.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ted and Kate and myself.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’ve only tried swimming in fresh water,”
said Ted.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You will find salt water easier. It is buoyant,
and invigorating. But don’t be venturesome
or foolhardy in strange waters. Have you
any idea of taking up a course of summer
study?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, yes,” cried Ruth. “Every morning we
shall have regular class work, and I am teacher.
I brought several books with me, Mrs. Yates, but
do you know, they all seem so far advanced for
beginners. I mean, they take it for granted that
the reader knows all about shell life, and sea
flora, and they talk about it all so scientifically,
arranging them in groups, and using the Latin
names. I wish I could find a book telling the
intimate family side of beach life. I’d like to
be on real friendly terms with every starfish
and crab I meet, not just have a bowing acquaintance,
and say, ‘Ah, good morning, Monsieur
Crustacean, are you a king crab, or a hermit?’”</p>
<p class='c009'>Everyone laughed, even Marbury, who had
come on deck after breakfasting below with his
father and the Admiral. The girls had finished
also, and Mrs. Yates suggested that Marbury
show them over the yacht.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Come back to me when you have seen everything
you care to,” she told them before they left
her, “and I will show you my sea-going library
and my collection of ocean treasures. I started
them both years ago, when Marbury was a baby,
and we took our first ocean voyage. It may help
you in forming collections of your own, and in
trying to classify them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Marbury and Polly led the way over the yacht.
It was as large as the revenue cutter they met
coming up the bay, and quite as smart in its
white and gold hull, and clean-cut smoke-stack
and rigging, outlined against the cloudless sky.
The forward cabin was the Senator’s special domain.
Walls, lockers, and chairs all were covered
with buff leather, and it was fitted with a
broad center table, and desk, with wall brackets
supporting cabinets containing all manner of
ocean curios. The dining-room was next to it,
although there was a smaller one below used for
breakfast by the Senator. The main cabin
was a delight to the girls. Ten staterooms
opened off it, and they were not like the little,
narrow “cubby-holes” generally found on steamers.
Daintily furnished little rooms, with lounging
chairs and couches of willow, covered with
apple green chintz sprayed with pink blossoms.
Curtains of the same were looped back from the
white berths. Four of these rooms were given
up to the girls, and they “paired off” accordingly.
Polly and Crullers took one, Sue and
Ted another, Isabel and Ruth a third, and Kate
was all alone in the fourth, as befitted the
chaperon of the party.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly,” asked Mrs. Yates, after dinner that
evening, “didn’t I notice a mandolin with your
luggage?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes’m,” answered Polly, who in spite of her
“nearly fifteen” years, still clung to the old-fashioned
mode of speaking to a person older than
herself. “We girls have a glee club of our own.
Sue, and Ted, and Ruth, and myself. Ruth
plays the guitar, and the rest of us mandolins. I
thought it would be fun to take them along and
play nights when we felt lonely.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I hope you will feel lonely to-morrow night
then,” Mrs. Yates replied, smiling. “I won’t
ask you to play to-night, for you must be tired,
but to-morrow evening we will have a concert.
I dearly love the sound of music on the water,
and so does the Senator. We have a piano on
board, you know, and Marbury has his banjo,
although I tell him it always makes me think of
the old riddle ‘what makes more noise than a
pig going under a gate?’ You know the answer.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls laughed, all except Crullers, who
puzzled and pondered over the riddle all the rest
of the evening. Crullers always pondered over
anything she could not see through. That night,
when they had retired to their berths, and only
the light from the cabin shone in the stateroom
over the doorway, Polly heard a sleepy voice
across the room say,</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, I know. Two pigs!”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly sat upright in bed, and threw a pillow
with telling force at the figure in the other berth,
but there was only a stifled giggle in answer, and
she cuddled down under the blanket, and fell
asleep.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chVI' class='c006'>CHAPTER VI</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>THREE DAYS AT SEA</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>The three days out at sea passed all too
quickly. The weather kept clear and cool up the
coast, and the nights were perfect. In spite of
Crullers’ unwillingness to rise early, the other
girls were on deck at sunrise the first morning,
and were rewarded by an invitation to the bridge
with the Captain and Senator Yates. Polly
made friends with the Captain at once.</p>
<p class='c009'>“His name is Captain Sandy Saunders,” she
told the girls. “And he sailed first of all from
the Hebrides, he told me, when he was a bit of
a laddie.”</p>
<p class='c009'>As Kate had remarked teasingly, Polly had a
terrible weakness towards panhandle names, just
the same as Aunty Welcome, and this was really
a very interesting Captain.</p>
<p class='c009'>“He looks quite a good deal like a moon fish,”
said Ruth, thoughtfully, the first time she had
seen him. “They are found in West Indian
waters, girls, and look just like decapitated
pirates, round, and pink-faced, with little round
mouths and round eyes, and a tuft of fin like
hair on top.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t think that is one bit complimentary,
Ruth,” Polly had declared, indignantly. “My
captain doesn’t look like a decapitated pirate.”</p>
<p class='c009'>And yet the next time she glanced up at the
pilot house, and saw the captain standing beside
the wheelsman, she had to smile. He wore a
blue coat, with brass buttons, tight to his neck,
and a high white collar, and white duck trousers,
with a stripe up the sides. And his face was
round, and smooth shaven, and very sunburned,
with round eyes, so blue that they seemed like
glass marbles. But before that first day was
over, Polly and he were firm friends and shipmates.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral did not rise until six o’clock. As
he had remarked the night before, he had watched
the sun rise from nearly every body of salt water
on the globe, and now he was convinced that it
could get up without his help, and he needed
his beauty sleep badly.</p>
<p class='c009'>To the girls, it was a wonderful sight, that
first sunrise. The clouds turned to flakes of
radiant gold and rose and violet, shot through
and through with silver lights. When the sun
rose over the horizon line, every wavelet caught
its glory in miniature, and the whole wide sea
looked like “gloryland,” as Aunty Welcome
said. Isabel leaned over the rail at the stern,
looking out at the widening wake of pearly foam,
that glittered and sparkled like countless diamonds
in the sunshine.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wonder whether that isn’t what makes the
pink tint inside sea shells,” she said musingly to
Kate. “Maybe they caught some of the color
and imprisoned it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly came hurrying along deck, her cheeks
aglow, her cap on the back of her head, and
hands deep in her reefer pockets, for the early
mornings were cool.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls, there’s a school of porpoises moving
off shore,” she called, excitedly. “You can see
them around the prow plainly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>They hurried after her, and reached the extreme
point of the prow, beyond the neat coils
of rope and the capstan.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly laughed over the latter.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I used to call that the captain,” she said.
“There was a song grandfather sang to me,
something about ‘We’ll heave the capstan round,
my boys,’ and I always said, ‘We’ll heave the
captain round, my boys.’ I remember he told
me such things never happened on well-regulated
ships.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, forevermore, girls,” exclaimed Sue, as
she leaned over the prow, until she could have
reached down and touched the gilded crest of the
<i>Hippocampus</i> itself. “There are a lot down
there, and they’re going as fast as we are!”</p>
<p class='c009'>It was strange to watch them. There seemed
to be a dozen or more, about three or four feet
long, and as they played and frolicked in the
leaping spray from the cutwater, they would roll
and toss and turn half over like kittens. Underneath,
their bodies were a deep shell-pink, and
the rest was brownish-green.</p>
<p class='c009'>While they were watching them, Marbury
came along deck holding something in his hand.</p>
<p class='c009'>“One of the sailors found it back there on the
aft deck while he was swabbing it just now,” he
called. “It’s a flying fish.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls examined it with eager interest, pulling
out the delicate, bat-like wings that folded
close to its sides, just like a junk boat’s sails, as
Polly said. Then they had the fun of letting it
go over the side of the boat, and it sank out of
sight.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But it’s half dead now,” said Marbury.
“There’s not much use in putting it back.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, there is,” answered Polly, cheerfully.
“It will have the fun of telling all the other fish
its wonderful adventure, and will die happy. I
can see a ridge of land way off there to the west,
can’t you?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Barnegat, and the Jersey coast, I think,”
Marbury told her. “There’s bully yachting all
along there, on account of the inlets. I camped
out near Cape May one summer with a crowd
of boys from the naval ‘Prep.,’ and we had fine
fishing and sailing. The beaches are long and
shallow. Up in Maine you’ll find them short
with plenty of rocks.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Short around where the rocks are, you mean,”
said Ruth. “There are long, flat reaches of
sand up there, too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Anyway, we like rocks,” put in Polly, comfortably.
“I don’t think a long, shallow beach
is good for yachting. Where are you at low
tide? Up in the sand somewhere. And where
are you at high tide? Swamped.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Marbury laughed at her, heartily. He was a
tall, stalwart naval cadet of nineteen, with the
Senator’s own merry eyes and quick gift of understanding.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That makes me think of one of father’s
stories,” he said. “Uncle Joe, an old darkey
down home, used to say he’d a heap rather be
killed on land than on water, ‘’case if dey’s an
accident on land, why, dar you is, and if dey’s a
blow-up in de middle ob de ocean, whar is
you?’”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t care,” persisted Polly, even while she
laughed at the story with the others. “Most
people are afraid of rocks when they’re boating,
but rocks won’t hurt you if you know how to
manage them. I’d rather have rocks along shore
with some water around them, deep enough to
let a three-foot draft boat slip in, than half a mile
of wet sand to climb over after you’ve anchored.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You won’t get any three-foot draft on a catboat
unless your centerboard’s down,” Ted said.
“I know because I’ve heard my brothers tell
about theirs. It hasn’t any more keel than a
washbowl. I like a ‘cat’ myself, because you jam
her down against the wind, and lie back and rest.
In a yawl or knockabout, you have to change
around, and shift about, and fuss every time you
tack. I don’t think that’s any fun.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly’s brown eyes sparkled, and she stuck her
hands deep in her reefer pockets, and looked out
at the wide ocean as if she wanted to clasp hands
with it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I do,” she said. “I’d like to have a boat that
was nearly all sail, and just me sitting on a
plank. I love to feel the wind in my face, and
reach out to it. A catboat’s a regular tub.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, it isn’t, Polly, truly,” Ted protested.
“There’s a picture in my Tennyson of the passing
of Arthur, and the three queens came after
him in a catboat. You can tell it is just a catboat
by looking at it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Everyone laughed, but Ted stood her ground
sturdily.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not a catboat, goose,” explained Ruth, merrily.
“It must have been a ‘shallop flitting,
silken sailed, skimming down to Camelot.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>“There,” cried Sue. “I’ve been wanting a
boat all along, that would be different from those
the other girls sail, and now I have it. My boat
shall be the only unique one in the yacht club.
I shall get me a shallop.”</p>
<p class='c009'>They trooped in to breakfast with rosy cheeks
and laughing lips. Mrs. Yates was awaiting
them. The Admiral and she were talking over
old Virginia days, and the girls were glad to
listen to some of those tales of long ago, while
they partook of deliciously-fried scallops, crisp
bacon on toast triangles, corn fritters, and fried
sweet potatoes, served as only the Senator’s plantation
cook could serve them.</p>
<p class='c009'>After breakfast, Ruth said that Kate and she
were going into the cabin to study Mrs. Yates’s
sea library and collections.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ll all go,” proclaimed Polly at once. “It
will never do to let these two know so much more
than the rest of us.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So all the forenoon they pored over the pressed
seaweed folios, excepting the hour for morning
service, when the Senator called all hands into
the cabin and read the dear, familiar words they
all loved.</p>
<p class='c009'>After dinner they went back to the collections
and the library, and this time Mrs. Yates herself
joined them, and explained many things
they did not know about. Besides the seaweed
folios, there were glass cases hanging against
the walls, containing shells and all manner of
sea curiosities. Ruth was in her element. With
her eyeglasses clipped firmly in place on her
nose, she traced the pedigree of the rarest specimens,
and told the other girls all about sea
urchins, Japanese trumpet shells, chambered
nautili, and jellyfish, that Mrs. Yates called
the phosphorescent mushrooms of the sea.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just wait till we reach our island,” Ruth told
the rest. “Every morning early I shall hunt
along the beach and in the enchanted gardens
the tide leaves in the rock hollows, and I shall
get results.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What sort of shells are those, Ruth?” asked
Crullers, in her slow sleepy way. “I don’t remember
hearing about them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Results, Crullers, results,” repeated Ruth,
patiently, but forcibly. “The effects of a cause.
The shells and things left by the tide. Then
after we have classified, and studied them, we’ll
arrange them for preservation. Which tint
would the sea weed look best against, Polly? I
brought brown cards and gray and green, for
mounting.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Brown,” Polly told her, “biscuit brown.
Don’t you know what beautiful colors the seaweed
dries to, purples, and lavenders, and deep
maroons, and woodsy browns. Save your green
boards for ferns, and shore flowers, and your
gray ones for the mosses and lichens.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And, by the way, Polly,” added Mrs. Yates,
“here is a hint that may prove useful. Don’t
use any glue or mucilage to fasten your seaweed
or other vegetation to the boards. Marbury has
some fine wire brads that answer the purpose
admirably. They are sharp and flexible, and
nearly invisible after they are fastened to the
boards, and your specimens are held securely in
place.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s a splendid idea, Mrs. Yates,” cried
Kate and Polly in one breath. “We wondered
how we could fasten them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What is the best way to preserve shells, Mrs.
Yates?” asked Ruth, eagerly, leaning her chin
on her two palms, and bending forward.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, that depends on the size. Your large
ones must be packed separately—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But we shan’t find very large ones along our
coast, shall we?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Indeed, you will, especially along the Maine
shore. Even the large periwinkles, that are pink
and brown mottled, are too large to put in bottles.
You will find as I did, that the easiest and
simplest way to dispose of shells is to make
things out of them during the summer. It
passes the time, and is very enjoyable. Have
you seen the portìere that hangs between my
stateroom and Marbury’s? It is made entirely
of shells, strung on silken cords. Marbury collected
the shells and I made it one summer when
we took a cottage near Greenwich, Conn. There
is a dearth of dainty shells along the Long Island
Sound shore, but these are very pretty, and are so
soft that you can pierce them easily with a needle.
I don’t remember their name, but Marbury used
to call them in fun, Neptune’s finger-nails.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls wanted to see the portìere at once,
and they followed Mrs. Yates along the cabin
to her own special quarters, a cool, commodious
stateroom that was her very own, as Polly said.
Next to it on one side slept Marbury, and on
the other was the Senator’s apartment. The portìere
of shells was exquisite, the girls agreed.
The shells were hardly larger than finger-nails,
in fact, and as delicate, and translucent as sea
foam. Some were palest pink, and others clear
amber, and still others were a faint pearl, or
vivid green.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It makes me think of those funny wind harps
that the Chinese use to scare away evil spirits,”
said Kate. “Listen how the shells tinkle when
the wind sways them to and fro. I’d love to
carry one back to Miss Calvert, girls, as our
summer gift.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ll do it,” said Polly at once, “if there are
any of these shells at Lost Island. Mrs. Yates,
what is this stretched over your walls, please?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just everyday fish net,” answered Mrs. Yates,
smiling as Polly and the rest examined the
tightly stretched, dark green net that covered
the stateroom walls, taut and snug. “It was
Marbury’s idea. He told me the boys at the
naval academy used it on their walls when they
camped out, to hang specimens on, or any odds
and ends. I wanted something that would not
deface the woodwork, and Marbury put it up
for me. It is very handy to slip pictures in, or
ornaments of any kind.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It would make good window curtains too,”
said Kate. “Perhaps we may be able to get
some from the fishermen, Polly. It would come
in handy somewhere, and if we didn’t do anything
else with it we might even use it to catch
fish in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The next day Marbury showed them his lines
and fishing tackle, and gave them general hints
on the gentle art of landing cod and mackerel
and other fish.</p>
<p class='c009'>“And what about lobsters?” asked Crullers.
“I like lobster all cooked up in cream the way
Polly makes it in the chafing dish. How can we
catch them?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here you are, Crullers,” called Ruth, from
the other end of the cabin. “You sit down here,
and read all about it. I have just finished, and
I feel as though I could set any lobster pot along
the coast, now.”</p>
<p class='c009'>That evening was the last they were to spend
on the yacht. It was Monday night, and the
captain promised that if all went well they should
waken in harbor the following morning. So
after dinner they gathered in the cabin, and Mrs.
Yates played for them on the piano, while out
in the moonlight the Admiral paced the deck with
the Senator, and put his head inside the door every
now and then to suggest some favorite.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isn’t it queer, Polly?” Isabel said softly, as
she watched them, the Senator in his white flannels
and Mrs. Yates all in white too, with her
soft, fair hair worn in a single coronet braid
about her head. “Isn’t it queer that the nicest
people are always the simplest in their ways,
and the most unaffected. It’s only the others—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The nobodies,” assented Polly, quickly, nodding
her head. “I know just what you mean.
They act as if they had swallowed a pound of
starch. Grandfather told me that Mrs. Yates
was the only daughter of the old Arnold family,
in Washington. He said he remembered walking
one day along the street, and meeting three
colored nurses in a solemn procession. There was
one to carry a parasol over the oldest one, and
another to carry the baby’s wraps, and finally
the baby herself in the arms of the chief mammy.
Just think of it. And that was Mrs. Yates when
she was Peggie Arnold.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Mrs. Yates,” came the Admiral’s round tones
from the doorway, “do you happen to know
‘Billy was a Bo’sun’?”</p>
<p class='c009'>In answer Mrs. Yates’s fingers ran off a little
prelude, and she sang, while all the girls clustered
around the piano to listen to the brand new song:</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Oh, Billy was a bo’sun, bold and brave,</div>
<div class='line in2'>William was a gay young sailor,</div>
<div class='line'>Sailed upon the south sea wave.</div>
<div class='line in2'>Oh, William was a gay young tar.</div>
<div class='line'>His ship was called the “Mary Ann,”</div>
<div class='line in2'>William was a sailor,</div>
<div class='line'>And down the African coast she ran,</div>
<div class='line in2'>For gold and i-vor-ee!</div>
<div class='line in2'>For gold and i-vor-ee!</div>
<div class='line'>Oh, Billy was a bo’sun, bold and brave,</div>
<div class='line in2'>William was a gay young sailor,</div>
<div class='line'>Sailed upon the south sea wave,</div>
<div class='line in2'>William, he was a gay young tar.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“That’s the one,” applauded the Admiral,
gaily. “I sang that chanty before now in a fo’cas’le
on a trading ship bound for the Straits,
when I wasn’t much older than Polly there.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Mother knows all the sailor songs and fisherman
croons of the seven seas,” said Marbury, as
he leaned towards his mother, turning pages when
she needed help. “I’ve kept count to-night, and
in the last half hour she has skipped from an
Iceland lullaby to a Greek rowing chorus we
boys used to sing when we were at shell practice
on the bay. Then that rippling one was a gondolier
song we heard at Venice, way out on one
of the small canals around the islands. And
just before this last, Mother, wasn’t that the little
lullaby you heard at Iona?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“This?” Mrs. Yates ran over the simple, soft
melody, and Polly caught the words.</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Day has barred her windows close, and gaes wi’ quiet feet,</div>
<div class='line'>Night wrapped in a cloak of gray, comes saftly doon the street,</div>
<div class='line'>Mither’s heart’s a guiding star, tender, strong, and true,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Lullaby, and lulla-loo-oo—</div>
<div class='line in4'>Sleep, lammie, noo, sleep, lammie, noo.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, that’s a darling,” cried Polly. “Please,
please, sing some more.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’re going out on deck, now,” said Mrs.
Yates, rising, with one arm around Polly. “The
moon is rising, and I want to hear the Polly
Page Glee Club this last night we will be together.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“If a mere banjo player may join in too,” suggested
Marbury, his eyes twinkling with fun,
“we’ll show the sharks and mermaids what real
talent can do.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls often looked back on that evening.
It seemed almost too happy and perfect to be
quite real, Polly said. The night was wonderfully
calm and clear, a night when all the stars
looked nearer than usual, Sue declared.</p>
<p class='c009'>Even the Admiral’s rolling basso was frequently
heard, and the Senator hummed contentedly, when
they happened to strike a special favorite of his.
All the old college songs and heart-throb tunes
that are handed down over cradles of nations
were touched up by the glee club that night, and
last of all, Polly’s clear soprano started up the
Admiral’s favorite, “Tom Bowling.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just leave that one to the echoes,” he said,
as the sweetly-plaintive old melody died away on
the still night air. “And now, to your bunks,
every girl Jack of you, for you’ll wake up to-morrow
with Maine under your noses, and Lost
Island to shake hands with before breakfast.”</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chVII' class='c006'>CHAPTER VII</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>LANDING AT LOST ISLAND</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>“Polly! Polly!” came a sleepy, anxious call
from Crullers’ berth the next morning, and
Polly sat up drowsily. It was still dark in their
stateroom, but between the narrow shutters at
the window, there stole a gray gleam of dawn.
Polly sprang out of bed, and let down the shutter.
And she half smiled as she did so, remembering
how the first morning Crullers had tried
to do so, and had started to cry because she had
let the shutter fall down the side of the boat.
Everything on the yacht was silent. The engines
had stopped. There was no throbbing, no
vibration, nothing, except stillness. Even to
Polly’s practical mind there came a vague sense
of danger, as she looked out of the window.
Then she laughed.</p>
<p class='c009'>Crullers was already out of bed, a blanket
wrapped around her, as she dropped on her knees
and peered under the berth.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What are you doing?” asked Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Looking for the life preservers,” came
back Crullers’ half-smothered tones. “Are we
wrecked, Polly? Oh, I wish I had stayed at
home.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, do get up from there, goose,” Polly
laughed. “We are on the coast of Maine, that’s
all. Hurry up and get dressed. It’s half-past
three. Let’s go out on deck and watch the sunrise.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, I’m so sleepy,” pleaded poor Crullers.
“If it isn’t a wreck, I’m going back to
bed.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Indeed, you’re not,” cried Polly, as she
brushed out her heavy curls vigorously. “I’ll
throw pillows at you if you dare to try it. If I
had a clothespin handy, I’d stick it on your nose.
Oh, Crullers, that makes me think of something
funny. Now listen, for it may wake you up.
Stoney was bound he’d sleep mornings, and
Aunty Welcome marched upstairs one day and
stuck a clothespin on his nose, sure enough. She
says it’s the greatest discourager of sleepiness she
knows of, and Stoney got up fast enough after
that at first call.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s awfully cold, isn’t it?” shivered Crullers,
groping around after her stockings. Polly
turned on the electric light overhead.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Cold? The second of July. Fiddlesticks!”
She put her head out of the little, narrow window,
trying to discern the shore outline. “I can’t
see anything but dark, hilly-looking bumps.
We’re in a bay. There’s a big light way off
over there, blinking. It’s a lighthouse.”</p>
<p class='c009'>There came a light tap on the door.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Who is it?” asked Polly. “We’re up.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s me,” said Sue, intimately, but without
regard for grammar. “I’m so glad you’re
awake, Polly. Ted and I got up as soon as we
heard them dropping anchor. Oh, it’s glorious.
The sunrise is just breaking through the clouds,
and the tide’s way out, and we’re in a big bay,
Polly, with a lot of little islands scattered
around, as if some giant boy had been throwing
giant pebbles. We just saw a lot of fishing
smacks go by on their way out to the banks.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ten minutes later the four stood on deck.
Marbury was the only one there to greet them,
except Captain Sandy Saunders and one lone
sailor. It was quarter of four.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We got in earlier than grandfather expected,”
said Polly after the good-mornings had
all been said. “Just look at all those islands.
How will we know which is Lost Island among
so many?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You don’t call every rock with a clump of
pines hanging to it, an island, do you?” Marbury
asked, teasingly. “I don’t know which one
of those is your island, but I think it must be
larger than these dots of land. Do you see that
inlet in the main shore over east? The mate
tells me that the village lies around there, about
quarter of a mile up the river. Eastport is the
name of it. All along the north shore of the
bay are summer cottages, and that big building
where you can see lights is the hotel. It stands
between two bluffs. That other large building
with the two rows of verandas is the Orienta
Yacht Club. Father says he knows the commodore
of it, Mr. Millard.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t see how you found out so much about
it, while we have been asleep,” said Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t you?” Marbury’s eyes were full of
mirth, as he turned to her. “I don’t know
whether I had better tell you or not, but I will.
Our mate’s home is at Eastport, and he told me
all about the place.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Doesn’t he want to go home for a little visit
while you are at anchor?” asked Sue, quickly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t know. There will hardly be time, for
we’re to sail as soon as we put you ashore and
find you are safely located. Perhaps he’ll send
a message by you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Nobody but Sue thought any more about it,
for the Admiral appeared on deck just as the rim
of the sun appeared above the horizon.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Good-morning, everybody,” he called, in his
deep, cheery tones. “God bless us all, what a
morning this is! Wind’s due south, isn’t it,
Cap’n? Bears the fragrance of a thousand
shores and sea-girt flowering isles upon it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Grandfather, you’re getting as poetical as
Isabel. She has been declaiming, ‘Build thee
more stately mansions, oh my soul,’ ever since we
first called her, and she isn’t all dressed yet. If
you didn’t have me to stand by you for a good
shipmate, you’d be the most rollicking old tar
that ever trod a deck.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I declare, Polly, I’ll appeal to Mrs. Yates
the instant she appears,” quoth the Admiral,
laughing. “I am dignity itself.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly slipped her arms around his neck, and
kissed him, her brown eyes brimful of mischief,
and they went over to where Captain Saunders
stood.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s four thirty-five now,” he said. “Breakfast
for all hands at five are the Senator’s orders,
and ashore at six.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Are we to go direct to the island?” asked
Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No,” the Admiral spoke up. “I have talked
it over with Mrs. Yates, and she agrees with me
it would be better for you girls to put up at the
hotel first, until you find out how the land lies.
I always had my doubts about Robinson Crusoe’s
comfort, and I want you to be situated comfortably,
before I leave you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I thought you were going to remain up here
right along, sir?” said Marbury.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not exactly. This yacht club opens for a
couple of months, and I cannot put in all that
time with the rocking chair fleet over yonder on
the veranda of the hotel or boat club, can I? I
shall stay around within hail, until they get their
bearings, and are fairly on their course, then I
am going South until the regatta in August.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Who is that man over yonder?” asked Sue
suddenly. She had been far up in her favorite
seat in the prow, as close to the <i>Hippocampus</i> as
she could get, watching the outline of the shore
shape itself clearly from the shadows. A dory
was just coming in from the channel that led
to the open sea, with one man in it, and a lot
of lanterns for cargo.</p>
<p class='c009'>“One of the men from the station,” Captain
Saunders explained. “You can see the lighthouse
out on the Point yonder, can’t you? Those
buildings at its base are where the light-tender
lives, and farther along shore you can see the
roof of another building, with a tall spar on it.
That’s the life-saving station. Every night and
morning one of the men goes out to hang the
signal lights on the piling that marks the channel
to the inlet yonder. It’s a narrow passage,
and there’s a bad ledge of rock off to the
southeast. That arm of land to the south they
call the Sickle.”</p>
<p class='c009'>He pointed to the stretch of shore that extended
from the mainland for several miles, and
curved around Eagle Bay like a half moon.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Why didn’t they call it the Crescent?” asked
Isabel, meditatively. “It’s so much more expressive.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“So is Sickle,” laughed Polly, waving her
handkerchief towards the dory. “Maybe this
one gathers in the harvest of the sea.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, don’t do that,” exclaimed Ruth.
“They’ll see you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I hope they do,” responded Polly, delightedly.
“I wasn’t waving at the boat, goosie.
There,” as one figure in the dory lifted an oar
in salute to her, and waved his cap. “I’ve made
one friend, anyway, on this foreign coast of Barbaree.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The breakfast gong struck. It was one other
thing in the daily life aboard the <i>Hippocampus</i>
that pleased the girls. At each meal the steward
would strike a musical Chinese gong with two
muffled sticks, and the sweet, vibrating chimes
would sound clearly through the cabin.</p>
<p class='c009'>“When we get settled in our club house,” Polly
said, as they started for the dining-room, “we’ll
have one of those gongs if I have to make it
myself.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, do you realize,” said Isabel, regretfully,
“that after all this splendor we are going
bang on a desert isle?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“‘Quoth the Raven, Nevermore,’” Polly said
in a deep, mournful tone that matched Isabel’s
exactly, and made them all laugh.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not that I mind it,” added Isabel, hastily. “I
expect Polly’ll have us all in sou’westers and oilskins
before we get through, patrolling the beach
with the life-guard. I wish I could swim. Is
it hard learning, Senator Yates?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not very.” The Senator’s face wore a reminiscent
smile. “I was about seven when I
learned. Tad Newell was my chum those days.
He was my cousin, and about twelve years old,
and he could swim like a tommycod. So he undertook
to teach me. We went down to the old
swimming hole on Tad’s place, and I took off
my clothes, while Tad tied a rope around my
waist. ‘Now, all you need do, Charlie, is to let
yourself go,’ he told me, ‘and I’ll hang on to the
rope till you learn to swim.’ So I jumped from
a rock into the water, and let myself go, but that
rope parted. Tad yelled to me to strike out and
tread water. I did as I was told, and the first
thing I knew I was swimming around the old
pond all right. ‘Golly Ann,’ Tad called out,
‘I’ll bet a cookie if that old rope hadn’t given
way, you’d have been trailing around here on the
end of it for an hour.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ll remember that story, and provide good,
strong ropes,” Polly said, laughing. “Crullers
declares she will put on a life preserver, but
I like the water wings the best. I do hope we
may be able to see the island to-day, and the
bungalow, or club-house, or shack, whichever it is.
Ruth brought a flag along to raise as soon as we
land, and our own yacht club pennant, golden
sun on a sea of blue.”</p>
<p class='c009'>By six the girls were through their breakfast,
and ready to go ashore. Marbury stayed with
his mother, but the Senator went with them as
far as the hotel landing. Another trip brought
their camp kit and suitcases, and finally,
about nine, they all stood on the broad veranda
of the shore hotel, waving handkerchiefs in farewell
to the Yates family, as the <i>Hippocampus</i>
left the little bay and steamed out beyond the
point of the Sickle, on her way up to Nova
Scotia and Prince Edward’s Island.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But they’re certain to stop and see us on their
way back the end of August,” Polly said cheerily.
“We’ve had a fine trip, and I think it was
mighty lucky we had it at all. So now it’s over,
let’s not sit down and weep. Isabel’s wiping her
eyes now. Face about the other way and be
happy. Where’s grandfather?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Down at the far end of the veranda he sat in
a comfortable armchair, chatting with another
elderly gentleman.</p>
<p class='c009'>“He has joined the rocking-chair fleet so soon,”
Kate exclaimed. “And Aunty Welcome’s upstairs
telling the chambermaids all about Virginia.
Let’s go and find the captain who knows
all about the island and the yachts.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But we don’t even know his name,” said
Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We shall, though, soon,” Polly replied. Her
eyes were bright with excitement. “I am going
to ask everyone I meet, very nicely, if they can
direct me to the captain, and you see if we don’t
find him.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Up the boardwalk they started, going towards
the village. The hotel was a low, two-storied
frame building, with broad verandas
around it, and tall, rocky bluffs on either side.
Behind it, through a break in the bluffs, could
be caught a glimpse of hills, blending one into
the other, and rising higher and higher against
the skyline, until they seemed to become a part
of the clouds themselves.</p>
<p class='c009'>The crescent-shaped shore was rocky also.
Before the hotel was a long stretch of smooth
beach, and the island shores looked sandy from
a distance, but for the rest, rocks seemed to predominate.
Not the smooth, shelving sandstone
the girls were used to seeing, but great, rough
masses of brownish green, that appeared to have
the hardness and weight of iron slag.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just look at that group way out yonder in
the bay,” Ruth exclaimed. “Aren’t they like a
herd of hippopotami under water? I expect to
see them rise up, and start away any minute.
And, see, girls, every single one of those islands
has trees on it. I wonder which is Lost Island?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Seems to me,” said Isabel, critically, “that a
sandy beach would be much better for our sailing,
than those rocks. Suppose we bump into
them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t worry, Dame Isabel,” Polly slipped
her arm around her, happily. “If we bump into
them, we’ll at least have the satisfaction of knowing
they didn’t bump into us, won’t we? Here
cometh a native of this wild and rocky shore,
mates. I think he’s Boy Friday.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Swinging leisurely along the beach was a tall,
long-legged, stoop-shouldered boy of fifteen
years or so. He wore overalls, turned up around
his bare legs, and a huge straw hat hid his face
in shadow. Sue declared that he resembled the
crane they had seen away back in the wild rice-fields
along the Potomac. But he was a friendly-looking
native, at all events, and he carried a
pail of freshly-dug clams, and over one shoulder
a hoe with a broken handle.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t scare him, girls,” cautioned Polly; but
she had scarcely spoken before the boy waved
the hoe at them in a neighborly salute, and sent
out a hail.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hello!”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hello!” shouted back Polly and Sue, but the
more sedate members of the club waited until
he caught up with them before delivering any
greeting.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I saw you come ashore this morning,” he said,
smiling at them frankly. “I was out with father
taking in the lights, and we saw somebody wave
at us from the yacht—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I did,” smiled Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Did you? I waved back. And father said
he guessed you must be the folks we was looking
for, so I’d better stop over at the hotel this
morning on my way back, but I went clamming
first. Got some whoppers too, regular quahaugs.”</p>
<p class='c009'>He held out the pail for their admiration, and
the girls duly admired, but it was not with the
thought for those particular clams. As Kate
said afterwards: “I thought right away that if
he could get them, so could we, and what dandy
clam frys we’d have in the dear old chafing-dish.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly looked at him steadily for a minute more
before she hazarded a guess.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is your father the captain?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The boy nodded, smiling until his mouth
looked like the Cheshire cat’s.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes’m. Cap’n Ben Carey, formerly of the
schooner <i>Mary</i>, now on duty at the station down
yonder on the Point. They call our end of the
bay Fair Havens. It’s in the Bible, too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is it?” Polly and the others were now interested
fully. Even Marbury, with all his cadet
training back of him, had been somewhat shy
with all seven girls around him, plying him with
questions, but this boy was not.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What’s your own name?” asked Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tom Carey.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Can you sail a yacht all by yourself?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I can sail anything,” answered the clam digger,
modestly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“The captain is in charge of Lost Island, isn’t
he?” Polly inquired. “I am Polly Page, Mrs.
Holmes’s niece.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom nodded, and put out his hand.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know. We’ve been looking for you any
time. We’ve got five of the Holmes boys’ boats
down at our place. Father got a letter from
London telling him you was coming, and he
gave me the stamp to keep. Going to look at
the place this morning?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We want to go over as soon as we may,”
Polly said. “How far is it?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom pointed to the opposite shore of the bay,
about midway between the Point and the hotel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s right over yonder, where the beach looks
flat all to once, then it hunches up into a big knob
of land. It isn’t a whole island. There’s a ridge
of land joins it on the main shore. It’s a good
beach for sail boats. There’s five of them all
together, and father’s got a lot more. He rents
them for the season to the cottage folks along
shore. He owns a sloop, too, and he lets that out
to folks who want to sail clear out to the banks
and fish. And Nancy has her own boat too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Who is Nancy?” asked Ted.</p>
<p class='c009'>“My sister,” Tom’s head lifted a trifle higher
than ordinary, as he said it. It was easy to see
the estimation he had of Nancy. “They’ve got
a junior yacht club over at the Orienta, and not
one in the lot can sail as well as Nancy. Look
over there.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Around the shore at the inlet came a trim
catboat, tacking and beating down across the
bay as a puff of wind hit her as easily as a gull
swerves from its course.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s Nancy,” Tom said proudly. “She’s
been over to the village, most likely, for mother.
She don’t like the walk around the shore road.
Guess she’s bringing back something from my
aunt’s.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How old is she?” Isabel’s tone was quite
respectful, as she watched the single figure in
the boat, just a mere dark speck, half hidden by
the sail.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Thirteen. I’m going on sixteen. We look
after things at Fair Havens while father’s on
duty down at the Point.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is he a real life-saver?” asked Polly, eagerly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes,” said Tom, simply, adding, “He’s got
some medals. He’s a coast guardsman. Do you
want to go over to your place right now? I’m
going along home, and it’s only a step from
there.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly considered. It was nearly noon, but
they all wanted to see Lost Island so very much
that she knew they would not mind giving up
their luncheon at the hotel for the trip.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Have you got a boat that will carry us
all?” she asked, doubtfully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We won’t need a boat. I said they only
called it an island, didn’t I? It isn’t a whole
one. It’s a sort of knob that sticks up out of
the water, with a good bit of beach, and at high
tide it’s pretty well surrounded, except for a
ridge of hummocks you can walk over. If we
follow this shore road, it leads right to our house,
and your place, and then straight along and
minds its own business till it gets out to the
Point.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then we’ll be neighbors, won’t we?” said
Ruth. “I guess we’ll be very glad to have good
ones within hail before we get through.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ll all be good neighbors to you,” Tom returned
quite seriously. “We’re mighty glad
some real folks are going to live near us all summer.
It gets lonesome way out there on the bay
shore, and the village is two miles away. It’s
just exactly one mile from our house to the hotel,
then another mile on to Eastport.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you walk it often?” asked Ted, her hands
deep in her sweater pockets. “We’ll have to go
over after our mail, and I’m going to be post girl.
I love to walk, miles.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We don’t walk it much,” returned Tom, stolidly.
“You won’t either, after you find you can
clip across the bay in a ‘cat’ in quarter the time.”</p>
<p class='c009'>They had turned about, and were walking
slowly back along the boardwalk towards the
hotel. The Admiral saw them coming, and came
down from the veranda to meet them. Polly
managed the introduction in her own way.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Grandfather, dear, this is Tom Carey, the
captain’s son. He knows all about the island,
and takes care of the yachts for his father. And
may we, please, please, walk right over, and see
it all now?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral referred the question to his watch.
Polly loved that watch. It was really an old
friend of the family. It was a thin watch, of
old gold, with a dull gold face, and black hands
and figures on it, and more than that, it struck
the hours, in a queer, high-pitched little ring.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Eleven thirty-five it is, Polly. Will you be
back by one sharp?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, sir,” promised Polly, and off they went,
Indian file, along the two-plank walk, with the
tall, awkward figure in overalls leading.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Seems to be an able seaman,” commented the
Admiral, comfortably to himself, as he went back
to his easy chair and the budget of mail that
awaited him, and if Tom could only have heard
him, he could not have asked for higher praise.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral’s opinion was verified by the girls
before half an hour had passed. In that brief
time, Tom had subdued even Polly with the
breadth and depth and height of his knowledge
of boats and sailor craft. One mile from the
hotel they came to the Carey house. There was
a good-sized boat dock, with a dozen or more sail
boats moored alongside, and several row boats.
A large signboard nailed up on crossbeams notified
the passing world that it had reached the
port of “Fair Havens.” A boardwalk led up
from the dock over the beach to the house. It
made the girls think of a house built of cards
that first time they saw it. Not but what it was
solid enough, but it seemed to be in sections, and
one part leaned comfortably over for support on
all the other adjacent parts. Once upon a time
it had been painted red, but wind and storms and
the drifting, beating sand had scraped off nearly
every vestige of paint, and left the boards smooth
and clean as a freshly-scrubbed oak floor. On
the south side of the house around the kitchen
door was a little garden enclosed by a paling
fence, and hollyhocks grew nearly to the eaves,
in tall, regular rows like grenadiers. A honeysuckle
vine climbed over the side wall, and there
was the sweet fragrance of stocks and sweetbrier
over all, with sweet peas reaching out loving
tendrils through the palings.</p>
<p class='c009'>“My sister takes care of our garden,” said
Tom, proudly. “She can do anything she sets
her hand to. Mother says she’s just like Aunt
Cynthy over in Eastport. She tried to paint
the fence white, but it didn’t last. When winter
comes, the sand just beats up here, and eats
it off clean. Don’t you want to stop in, and
get acquainted?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Indeed they did want to, Polly replied
promptly, so up the plank walk they went to
the side door. Tom pointed out the arching
framework above it, and its crimson rambler.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I nailed that portico up there,” he told them.
“And Nancy transplanted the rambler.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s ever so pretty,” the girls said heartily,
and Tom picked some of the sweet red roses for
each of them. Inside the house some one was
singing, but when they tapped on the door it
ceased, and Nancy herself came to greet them.
She was tall and tanned, this Maine shore girl,
and though she was only thirteen, her head topped
Kate’s. Her long fair hair was bound around
her head in two braids, and her eyes were as
frank and as blue as Tom’s; as Polly said afterwards,
her fair hair and blue eyes looked out of
place in contrast with her tanned arms and face.
But they saw at a glance that here was a neighbor
worth having, and one to be cultivated. Mrs.
Carey welcomed them warmly. She was just
Nancy grown plumper and older, and she even
wore her hair in the same way, two long braids
wound around her head like a wreath. Isabel
tried to do hers up that way the very next day,
but gave it up.</p>
<p class='c009'>While they talked of their summer plans, and
Polly went down to the landing with Nancy to
look over the boats there, the girls watched Mrs.
Carey fry fish balls, and it was a ceremony. Not
in any ordinary frying pan did she fry them, but
in a deep kettle, just as Aunty Welcome fried
doughnuts, and when the balls came out they
were laid in a draining pan, all cooked to a delicious
golden brown, until your mouth watered
just to look at them.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t you girls want to sit right up to the
table and have a bite before you take the walk
over to the Knob?” asked Mrs. Carey suddenly.
“You’ll be famished before you get back to the
hotel. Of course you will. Guess I knew all
about girls and their appetites before you were
born. Nancy, you get some plates, and those
fresh-baked biscuits covered over on the bread
board there, and I’ll get a bottle of my Chili
sauce. I wouldn’t give two cents for fish balls
unless I could trim them up with Chili sauce.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Taste good? The girls hoped all along the
road to Lost Island, after it was over, that Mrs.
Carey made fish balls often.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tom says she can make clam pies, too, girls,”
Crullers said, eagerly. Crullers was always
radiant when the subject came up of feeding the
inner girl. “And clam chowder, and fritters,
and Indian puddings.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What are Indian puddings?” asked Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hush,” warned Polly. “Don’t ask questions,
Isabel. You make Indian puddings out of cornmeal,
and cream, and molasses, and spice. Anybody
knows that. Whenever I used to feel sad
after Aunty Welcome had scolded me, she’d
always turn around and coax Mandy to make me
an Indian pudding just piled full of raisins.
Oh, girls, look! There it is.”</p>
<p class='c009'>She stopped short, and pointed ahead of them.
They had come to a path leading up over the
rocks. The high-water mark could be plainly
seen, where the tide had left a little fringe of
shells, and driftwood, and seaweed. There were
pools here and there, too, and these were half
full of water. Tom was striding ahead down
the rocks to where a narrow neck of land joined
Lost Island to the mainland. But the girls
paused for a minute on the rocks, and looked
down with happy eyes on the future haven of the
Polly Page Yacht Club.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chVIII' class='c006'>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>DROPPING ANCHOR</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>“I told you it was just a knob of land sticking
out from the shore,” said Tom. “It’s nearly
a quarter of a mile long.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly lifted her head, and drew in a deep, long
breath of the cool, salty air that blew in from
the southeast. She looked down at the “Knob,”
as they soon grew accustomed to calling the
island. There was a fine incurved beach for
bathing, with a great, tumbled mass of rocks at
the farther end that rose higher and higher at
the end pointing towards the bay. Young willow
and scrub pine grew short and thick wherever
they could get a footing in the rock crevices, and
there was plenty of grass, but it was tall and
sharp pointed and tinted queer colors from the
tide.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You can walk away out yonder into the water
at low tide,” said Tom. “The beach is a fine
one, better than we’ve got at Fair Havens.
There ain’t any deep holes at all. That’s a pretty
good landing too. It lops over some, but that
won’t hurt anything. You’ll get used to it, and
it’s easy to moor to.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls scrambled after him down the rocky
path, and followed him as he picked his way over
the sand bar, stepping from one grass hummock
to the next.</p>
<p class='c009'>“This is high and dry at low tide,” called back
Tom. “Guess you’ll have to jump some places
now.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Some places!” repeated Sue, holding up her
clean linen skirt in dismay. “I’m hopping like
a frog now, and my shoes are wet. We’ll need a
balloon or an air ship when the tide comes in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here’s the house,” came Tom’s cheery voice,
beyond a sand dune, his bare feet having carried
him swiftly over the places where the girls had
to pick their way. And all at once they saw it,
the place they had dreamed of, and talked of,
and hoped for, for nearly two weeks. It was
gray, and lopsided like the landing place, and as
weatherworn as the Carey’s paling fence. Some
fisherman had built it years ago, and shielded it
from the northwest winds by putting it close
against the sand dune; facing south, it looked
out over the Sickle. He must have had a variable
mind, that first fisherman, for he had started out
with two rooms, then added a lean-to, and yet
another lean-to, and then had built a third one
that leaned fairly over on the original lean-tos.
The lean-to portion of the house then leaned all
together on the sand dune, but the front part was
up on a rock foundation, and there was a fair-sized
porch across it that Mrs. Holmes had built,
when the boys had taken it for a summer camp.</p>
<p class='c009'>But in spite of the new supports under the
flooring, it had a decided tilt to leeward, from
generations of storms that had whacked it, and
battered it, and all but demolished it. A tall flag
staff still reared itself squarely in front of the
steps, and at sight of it Polly ran ahead of the
others.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What is it, Polly?” called Ruth, holding to
her hat.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know what she’s going to do, I know,” cried
Sue. “Salute the colors!”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly reached the flag staff, and took the “colors”
from her reefer pocket, where they had been
safely tucked away, against the time appointed.
She had made that flag herself. It had been her
special contribution to the general belongings of
the club, and as Polly ran it gallantly up to the
top of the pole, the girls sent up a good, round
cheer, and even Tom threw his cap high in the
air.</p>
<p class='c009'>“’Rah! ’Rah! ’Rah!” he shouted. “She’s
a-flying a good one.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s a blue triangular pennant,” explained
Sue. “It’s a golden sun on a field of
blue.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“A golden sun rampant, isn’t it?” Crullers
put in.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, dear, couchant,” Sue laughed. “Why
will you talk about heraldry when you don’t
know anything about it. I’ve studied it all
up.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The sand had drifted up around the porch base
in regular hillocks, nearly to the railing.</p>
<p class='c009'>“When we get too tired to use the steps,” Polly
said, “we can just step over the railing, and slide
down.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I can’t find a door,” said Isabel, doubtfully,
as she came around the house from a tour of
inspection, and Kate began to chant, teasingly,</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Oh, I wish my room had a floor,</div>
<div class='line in2'>I don’t care so much for a window or a door.</div>
<div class='line'>But I wish my room had a floor!”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“What’s that funny little cupola up on top?”
called out Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s the lookout,” explained Tom. “Lots
of houses alongshore have them. It’s so the
women folks at home can climb up there in foul
weather, and look out towards sea through
glasses, to see if the ships are coming home.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I like that,” Polly said. “I’ve got ever
so many ships that are coming home some day,
and when I get discouraged after this I shall
build a lookout in my heart and climb up there
with a spy glass and see how the weather is out
to sea, and maybe I’ll see a sail.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, you sentimental goose,” laughed Kate,
slipping one arm around the commodore. “You
never see things just as they are.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I see them the way they ought to be, and
that’s better,” Polly smiled back. “Where’s
Tom?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Prying off the planks that are nailed over
the doors and windows,” Sue called, and presently
they all went inside.</p>
<p class='c009'>There were no plastered walls or ceilings. All
the rooms were finished off like the interior of
a cabin, with narrow boards nailed close together,
and there was a spicy, pungent odor through the
house, like spruce woods. One thing the girls
hailed with delight. Right up through the center
of the house rose a great, old-fashioned round
rock chimney. Three fireplaces opened into it,
and you could stand in any one of them and look
up at the blue sky. Long shelves stretched
across the tops of the fireplaces, and there were
iron cranes on each side on which to hang pots.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Where are the grates?” asked Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aren’t any grates,” responded Tom. “You
just lug in an armful of driftwood and pile it
on those rocks and start her up. We piled rocks
around outside for fenders, ’cause father thought
maybe the sparks would hit the flooring some
day.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Won’t we just pile on wood there on chilly
nights, girls?” Ruth exclaimed, kneeling down
and holding out her hands, as if she could feel
the blaze even then.</p>
<p class='c009'>“And sit around on cushions, and tell stories,
and eat toasted marshmallows, and Aunty Welcome’s
hermits,” added Ted.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, poor Aunty,” cried Polly, in sudden dismay.
“I never told her where we were going,
and she’ll think we’re drowned sure. Let’s
hurry, now, and be businesslike. How much
furniture is here, Tom?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ain’t any at all,” said Tom, cheerfully.
“Just some chairs, and a table, and some beds,
and dishes.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, that’s all we’ll need,” Polly told him.
“Did you think we wanted pianos or consoles?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Those aren’t furniture,” said Tom. “Those
are just fixin’s.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Where can we get fresh water?” Kate asked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There’s a well at our place. I’ll bring you
up some twice a day, and oftener if you need it.
You can freshen the salt water for cooking.
Mother’ll show you how.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I think it’s splendid to have near neighbors
like you,” said Polly. “Maybe we’ll be able to
do something for you before the summer’s over.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom poked his bare toes into the sand sheepishly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, that’s all right. Mother and Nancy are
mighty glad you’ve come. It gets pretty lonesome
way out here on the Sickle. I don’t mind
it so much, because I’m going into the coast
service with father as soon as I’m old enough,
but Nancy wishes she had some girls to talk to.
There’s plenty over in the village, but that’s too
far off, and the crowd at the Orienta or the hotel
and cottages, we folks don’t see much of. My
Aunt Cynthy says she’ll take Nancy any time
over in the village and bring her up, but mother
says she guesses she’ll hang on to her only girl.
Nancy likes you girls, because she says you seem
different.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How do you mean?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, you’re not all starched up the way the
others are over at the hotel.” He squinted one
eye at the sun. “It’s half-past twelve, and more
too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Regretfully the girls took leave of their new
kingdom, but as they walked back along the bay
shore road to the hotel, they turned every now
and then, and saw the little blue and gold pennant
streaming valiantly in the breeze, and as
Polly remarked, it certainly did look home-like.</p>
<p class='c009'>They did not stop at the Carey cottage going
back. It was a good mile around to the hotel,
and the Admiral was waiting for them on the
veranda.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, you go up and calm Welcome,” he
said, the first thing. “She’s been down to me
about sixty-nine times to ask me to send the life-savers
after you. You run up before you have
your lunch and show her there are no bones
broken.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly obeyed gladly enough. The old colored
mammy was very dear to her, and her arms
had been the only shelter she had known when
the Admiral was away from Glenwood ever since
her own mother died.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Deed, chile, if I ain’t powerful glad to see
you!” Welcome exclaimed, as soon as she set
eyes on her. “Praise de Lord, oh, mah soul!
Has you been way off in dat blazin’ sunlight and
no parasol? If you ain’t de carelessest chile I
ever did see. You’ll get so freckled dere won’t
anybody know you under your bridal veil, you
mind what I say, now.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, I won’t, Aunty, truly. Listen. It’s
just the happiest sort of a place, and I know
you’ll love it. There are big fireplaces and a
wide porch to sit out on, and you can see way
out over the ocean and over the bay too. I don’t
see why we can’t go over as soon as we have
finished luncheon.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How do you intend totin’ me through all dat
sand?” asked Aunty with dignity.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’re not going to tote you at all. We’re
going to roll you,” laughed Polly, as she reached
up, and took the wrinkled brown face between
her fresh young palms. “Listen, you old dear.
Just you go down and have your dinner, and
then make out a list of what we need to cook
with, and I’ll send Tom over to the village after it
this afternoon.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is dere anything to cook <i>in</i>?” asked Aunty,
still unmollified.</p>
<p class='c009'>“One iron kettle, one spider, a baking pan,
and two sauce-pans,” enumerated Polly. “And
some dishes.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, it’s a mighty good thing I packed up
plenty in de boxes,” said Aunty solemnly, and
with deep gratification. “I felt it in mah bones
it was a desert isle, and I’ve done kept mah eye
on dose boxes ever since we left Ole Point Comfort
behind us. I’ve watched ’em, and I’ve sat
on ’em, and I just know dey’s safe.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly said nothing, but she thought hard. She
had forgotten all about the two big packing-cases
that contained their bedding, and general
camp outfit. The last she had seen of them, they
had been stowed away on the lower deck of the
<i>Hippocampus</i> for safekeeping.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t you fret one bit, dear,” she said at last,
“I’ll ask grandfather where they are, and if
they’re not here, then they must be there. Stoney
told me when I lost my cap overboard, a thing
is never lost as long as you know where it is.
Just make out that list, Aunty, for us, and we’ll
hurry up with luncheon, and coax grandfather
to let us go over this afternoon to the club-house
for good.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It didn’t require very much coaxing. Polly
herself broached the subject at the table down
in the long, shady dining-room, and the Admiral
told her she might do as she pleased.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m not going to interfere except when it’s
absolutely necessary. I’ll just stop here for a
while till you’re on your course, then I’ll go
South again until the regatta. You manage
your own fleet. I’ll be on that veranda for a
week longer, though, and if there’s any mutiny
or danger, just send a couple of rockets and I’ll
come alongside.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Wireless, Admiral Page, wireless,” Kate
corrected, in her amusing way. “We’re strictly
up-to-date, you know. Polly will have a wireless
apparatus over there sure as can be, and
you’ll get many a ‘C.Q.D.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Grandfather, dear,” began Polly, suddenly
remembering, “where are the two big boxes with
all our things in?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“On the way to the island this minute,” answered
the Admiral. “That is once I forestalled
you, young lady. But here’s one question I cannot
solve, so I shall have to put it before the
club. How are we to get Aunty Welcome to
the island?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly meditated. So did the rest, but Ruth
solved the problem.</p>
<p class='c009'>“When the wagon comes back from taking
the boxes over, send Aunty back in it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly hugged her joyously.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Whatever should we do, Grandma,” she
cried, “without you to solve things for us. Here
I’ve been thinking we’d have to blindfold her
the way they do elephants to coax them on board
a ship. No, thanks, I don’t care for any shortcake,”
this to the pretty waitress, as she was
about to place a goodly slice beside her plate.
“I must hurry. Crullers, dear, you may have it
all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly,” whispered Isabel, as they were leaving
the long dining-room, “those two girls at
that little table, over near the veranda doors, have
been looking at us ever since we came in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe they like us,” Polly said, happily.
She always took the cheeriest view of everything
as a matter of course. As the Admiral and his
fleet of clipper builts, as he called them, passed
the table Isabel had mentioned, Polly looked at
the girls seated there, quite frankly and interestedly.
There was no doubt but what they were
sisters, and Polly liked them at first sight. The
elder was about sixteen, and the younger seemed
to be about Polly’s age.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wonder who they are,” Isabel said, when
they were up in the long, cool, double parlors.
“I like them and I wish we could get acquainted
with them before we leave. They’re very well
dressed, Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly laughed at the serious, earnest tone.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isabel always judges people by their raiment,”
she declared. “I know if she met John
the Baptist in camel’s hair, and Peter Pan in
white flannels like the Senator wore, she would
drop Peter a gracious courtesy, and not notice
anyone else at all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, I would,” cried Isabel. “I am
not as bad as that, but I do believe that clothes
show character, just as cleanliness or good manners
do. I have seen ever so many persons whose
clothes may have cost lots of money, but they
looked like patchwork quilts. These girls didn’t.
They were dressed with taste, and their dresses
were hand embroidered linen too. I do wonder
who they are. I like the way they do their
hair, braided, then tied up Dutch fashion with
two big bows.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you want yours that way, you blessed old
looking-glass?” Polly crossed over to where
Isabel sat, and began to arrange her long fair
braids in the same fashion. “It’s easy enough.
All you do is cross them over, so, and then tie
your ribbon on, and let it flutter a little, like a
butterfly bow. You need very wide ribbon to
make it look right. There, now observe yourself,
Lady Vanitas.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Just then Crullers whispered: “Here they
come.”</p>
<p class='c009'>While Isabel was trying to balance herself on a
bamboo tabourette so that she could catch a
glimpse of herself in the mirror above the mantel,
the other girls entered from the corridor leading
to the wide staircase, and hesitated.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Dorothy,” called a pleasant voice from the
hall. The elder girl looked over her shoulder,
caught Polly’s glance, and smiled, then they
both went on down the hall.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ready, mates?” asked the Admiral just then
and Polly inquired who the other two girls were.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Commodore Vaughan’s daughters from the
Orienta Club,” answered the old Admiral.
“And very mannerly children they are, too.
You will meet them later. I was talking to the
Commodore just a few minutes ago.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, I’m glad we shall know them, anyway,”
said Polly, as she went up to where Aunty
Welcome was waiting for them. “I wonder,
girls, whether grown people speak of us as
‘children.’ I feel half-way grown-up now. I
don’t think I’m a child.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Listen to her,” laughed Ruth. “And she’ll
be fifteen next December. Don’t you remember,
Kate, in the ‘Mikado,’ where somebody tells the
three little maids they are not young ladies, they
are only young persons.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Has you been a-finding dat teehee’s nest
again?” asked Aunty Welcome, severely, as they
all trouped into the room the Admiral had reserved
for them. “Ain’t you ’shamed to come
along a hotel corridor giggling like geese. And
you-all from Virginny, too. Ain’t you got any
State pride?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, we will be good, Aunty,” pleaded Sue
and Ted. “Don’t scold us. Just wait till we
get out on an entire island all our own.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I speck you’ll bring my hairs in sorrow to de
grabe before you get done,” Aunty prophesied,
but her eyes twinkled, as she looked around her
at her charges.</p>
<p class='c009'>It was past three o’clock before the caravan
started. First a wagon was sent around by the
shore road, with Aunty Welcome and the luggage.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s a pretty hefty load, son,” the Admiral
told the sunburned youngster who had agreed
to do the hauling down to the Knob, as all the
shore people called Lost Island. He laughed,
and slapped the reins on the horses’ backs.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Guess the colts will get there all right, sir,”
he said. “They can both of them swim.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ll be there right away, Aunty,” Polly
called, receiving a reassuring wave from a large,
dark green cotton umbrella.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, I begin to feel as though we were getting
down to business,” Kate said, decidedly, as
she came from the telephone booth in the hotel
office. “I’ve arranged for our groceries, and
they say they can send a team over about four,
because they deliver goods every morning and
afternoon to the hotel and cottages, and we might
as well receive ours that way, too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Did you order stuffed olives and plenty of
chocolate, Kate?” Isabel asked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, ma’am, I did not. We must have solid
food, the Admiral says, and no nonsense. Plenty
of fresh vegetables and fruit.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, I like the incidental trimmings myself,”
mourned Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ready?” asked Polly, and the caravan
moved, Polly and the Admiral bringing up the
rear.</p>
<p class='c009'>Just then the two Vaughan sisters came down
the hotel steps dressed in dark blue linen yachting
suits, and as they passed, girl fashion, they
smiled at the strangers without the formality of
an introduction. Polly could not wait for time
to ripen the acquaintance, but paused and spoke
to them in her impulsive way.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I only wanted to say,” she began, as the
other girls walked on with the Admiral, “that
we are from Virginia, from Queen’s Ferry, and
we belong to a—a—our yacht club. You can
see the flag flying over yonder where the shore
curves before you get to the Point. We’re going
to live there all summer, and we’d be ever so
glad if you would come down and see us.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’d love to,” Dorothy spoke up, warmly.
“This is my sister Bess. We’ll try to come over
some day next week.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“If you do, we’ll show you how to sail a
yacht,” Polly said encouragingly, but the girls
laughed.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, we go out every day on the bay in our
yacht. You can see her from here. We belong
to the Junior Sailing Club at the Orienta.”
Bess pointed eagerly down to the hotel landing.
“She is named the <i>Nixie</i>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly followed the direction in which she
pointed, and saw a slender, close-reefed yacht lying
just below the boat landing. It was clean
and looked well-dressed, the same as its owners
did. From where she stood Polly caught a
sparkle of polished brass work around the cockpit.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We have plenty of boats, but we haven’t
learned how to sail them yet,” she said. “As
soon as we do, we’ll race you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s a challenge, remember, and we take it
up,” returned Dorothy, laughing, and Polly hurried
ahead to join the others, feeling that she had
won two friends who seemed very much worth
while keeping.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chIX' class='c006'>CHAPTER IX</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>THE CAPTAIN CALLS</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>They reached the island about four-thirty,
and the remainder of the day was crowded with
things waiting to be done.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Right now, in the beginning, let’s start with
some system,” said Kate. “If we don’t we’ll all
be getting in each other’s way. Polly, come in
here and stop gazing at the water. Help me
plan the house. There are three rooms upstairs,
just plain boarded chambers, but they’ll
do to sleep in if the nights are not too hot. I
ordered a bolt of mosquito netting, and we must
start in to-morrow to tack it up. There are five
cots upstairs, but only one bed downstairs, in the
bedroom off the kitchen. Can you figure out
where we are all to rest our weary heads? I
give it up.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly considered.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let’s give Aunty the full grown bed, because
she’s old and will have all the cooking and washing
and ironing to do. I guess we’ll have to get
two more cots. When grandfather goes back to
the hotel, we can ask him to send them up to us.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Where will you put them?” asked Kate, quite
calmly. “On the porch?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, ma’am. Right in this room. Daytimes
we can turn them into divans.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isn’t she a wonderful schemer?” Sue put her
head in at the open window and laughed.
“Where did you pack the chafing dish?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“In my little suitcase. Why?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aunty says we may have supper out on the
porch and save trouble.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then I’ll fix lobster <i>a la</i> Newburg in a jiffy.”
Polly forgot all about beds and such ordinary
things, and rose at once, but the majestic form
of Welcome appeared in the kitchen doorway and
waved a cooking spoon in her direction.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Deed, an’ you ain’t a-going to eat any sech
mess before bedtime,” she said firmly. “Yo’ keep
your patience in evidence, chile, and your obstreperousness
in subjection, and I’ll have some frizzled
eggs ready before you know it, and some
toast and marmalade.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral had declined staying for tea that
first night. He had looked the entire place over,
and, as Polly remarked, noticed points they never
would have thought of, the drainage, the shingles,
and the condition of the cellar. He even went
down to the boat landing, and examined its supports
and noted the high tide marks along its
piling.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Seas went all the way over there, didn’t they,
Tom?” he asked, casually.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, yes, sir,” acknowledged Tom. “They
always do slosh over some in heavy weather.
Ours do too. When the February gales hit the
Sickle, I tell you, we all jam down pretty close
to keep from being blown clean off.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How about the bay? Do you get many bad
puffs out there? It looks fairly well sheltered.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom nodded his head with comradely understanding.
As he told his father that night, the
Admiral and he were good mates, and understood
each other perfectly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, it blows up now and then, but if any
storms should hit us, don’t you worry. Father
and I’ll keep a weather eye on the Knob. You
see the beach patrol passes about six hundred
yards over to seaward. Sometimes I tramp it
with the men from the Station, because I’m going
as soon as I’m old enough.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You couldn’t do a braver thing, my lad,” responded
the Admiral, thoughtfully. “I feel
like saluting every time I see one of the boys who
wear the fouled anchor on their sleeve. They
are a courageous lot.”</p>
<p class='c009'>While Aunty Welcome was busy preparing
supper, the girls went off down the beach, hatless
and happy, with sweaters buttoned to their
chins, for the evenings were chilly along the
shore.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly and Sue were ahead, and the rest followed
as they pleased. The tide was in full and
high, and they laughed and shouted to see the
long, foamy swirls of water slip up the beach, up
and up, each time a little bit farther, till they
all sprang back for fear of wet feet.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Doesn’t it make you think of all the sea
stories you ever read?” cried Polly, her eyes shining,
her long curls blown back by the wind.
“When I feel the wind like that in my face, I
want to be a viking, and stand right up in the
prow of a boat, and sail, sail right out into the
sunset.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’d look like the Winged Victory,” called
Kate. “But I know what you mean. Like
this?” She opened her white sweater coat, and
held it wide to the wind, like wings. “It makes
you feel like a gull.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, my feet are wet, girls.” Ted sat down
on a rock, and deliberately took off her low tan
shoes. “What’s the difference? I’m going
barefooted and have some fun.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Five minutes later Aunty Welcome looked
out of the kitchen door and saw a sight that made
her fairly gasp. Carrying their shoes and stockings,
a line of barefooted girls clambered up the
mass of rocks at the Knob.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, for de land’s sakes,” cried Aunty.
“Who’d believe dose wasn’t a pack ob gypsies?”</p>
<p class='c009'>But the girls waved back to her, and she had
to laugh over the sight after all.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Those rocks up there are the highest part of
the island,” said Polly. “Let’s go clear up to
the top.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls clambered after her, over the slippery
rocks, rocks that were gray with barnacles
down along their sides. The water had filled
up all the little hollows, and Polly bent down
over one to examine it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just look, girls,” she said. “These are limpets,
the kind that open their shells to the tide, as
if they were thirsty. You know them, Ruth.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“<i>Patella pellucida</i>, semi-transparent, sticks to
fronds of seaweed,” responded “Grandma,” in
her deliberate way.</p>
<p class='c009'>She lifted a long, wet strand of seaweed, and
waved it in the air. Something fell off.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s a crab,” said Ted. “Look at him play
’possum.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth poked at the shell diligently, until she
turned it over on its back.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s a horse-shoe crab,” she said. “They call
them king crabs too. They shed their shells, and
then they are the soft shelled crabs. They’re
regular fighters unless you catch one with a new
shell, then he’s tame enough.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What are hermit crabs, Ruth?” asked Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t know why they call them hermits, unless
it’s because they steal other shells and live in
them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hermits don’t do that, Ruth. They’re just
people who isolate themselves from the world.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, these crabs like to live all by themselves.
They hunt up snails, and eat the snail
and steal its shell. Sometimes two crabs will
fight over the same shell.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just like people,” Sue said. “I think it’s
awfully queer how much people and animals and
fishes and everything look and act alike. Maybe
we’re much closer related than we think.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, Sue, I refuse to have this crab’s pedigree
traced to mine,” laughed Kate. “Throw
him back into the sea.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s good,” said Crullers, solemnly.
“Maybe he’s the father of a large family.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly tossed it back into the next upcurling
wave, and they all made up some poetry on the
spot, and chanted joyously.</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Oh, I am a family crab, so treat me quite tenderly.</div>
<div class='line'>There are generations down below, and they’re all awaiting for me.</div>
<div class='line'>I’ve sisters and cousins and aunts, and some great-grand-children too.</div>
<div class='line'>So I beg you not to cook me into crab <i>a la</i> Newburg stew.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>Suddenly a hail came from the main shore, and
they were silent. It was past sunset, and a soft
twilight afterglow was settling over the world.
Coming along the ridge of sand from the Point
was a lone figure, and from where they stood it
looked immensely tall, outlined against the clear
orange of the southern sky. Even while they
hesitated, wondering who it could be, Nancy’s
clear voice called far down the shore,</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ahoy, dad, ahoy!”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s the Captain,” said Polly, starting to put
on her stockings instantly. “Hurry, and catch
up with him. Nancy says she goes to meet him
every night.”</p>
<p class='c009'>They slipped on shoes and stockings quickly,
and ran back to the house just in time to see
Nancy and the Captain crossing the hummocks.
Polly never forgot that first look she had of Captain
Ben Carey of the Sickle Point Life Saving
Station. Tom was a pretty good reproduction
of him, but there was something in the Captain’s
expression that Tom lacked, a curious look in
his deep blue eyes, as though they had always
gazed out over wide distances. He was tall
and broad shouldered and mighty, the girls
thought. His face was smooth-shaven, but
tanned and weather-beaten and crisped into innumerable
fine wrinkles, until Sue declared it
made her think of a baked apple. His hair was
thick and curly like Tom’s, and his closely shut
lips seemed to be ever smiling out at a world
that even its Maker could still pronounce good
as He had at its first dawning. But it was his
voice that Polly loved best. Such a rich, hearty
voice it was, with a rollicking roll to it when it
burst into a sailor boy “come—all—ye,” and a
deep, resonant tone in speaking that simply won
your heart.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ahoy, there, ahoy,” he shouted back, as they
called to Nancy and him, and then Polly saw
that he was to be their best friend all that long
happy summer.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s this way, you see,” he told them all, when
they had led him up on the porch of the cottage,
and gathered around for good advice. “I’ve
told the Admiral that he may leave you here alone
any time, and we’ll all keep an eye on you. Tom
and he were down to the Point awhile back, and
had a talk.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And he told us he was going back to the
hotel,” said Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, he changed his course. He says to me,
‘Cap’n, do you think they’ll be able to handle a
lot of yachts alone?’ And I told him, ‘Leave ’em
to me, sir, with an easy conscience. I’ll keep my
mind on them, and so will Mrs. Carey, and so will
the children. And as for handling the boats,
why, Lord love you, there ain’t nothing over fifteen
foot in the lot.’ My Nancy here runs all
over the bay in Tom’s knockabout, the <i>Pirate</i>,
and her own catboat. She’s been out around the
Point too, alone, in fair weather. And she’s
only thirteen. Tom is going on sixteen, and
I guess betwixt the two of them, you’ll turn into
able seamen, and learn how to handle a boat.
If you don’t, they won’t sink anyhow. You
want to learn how to swim, every girl jack of
you, first of all. What would you do out in the
bay if the boat took a notion to stand on her
beam ends, and ship a lot of water clean over into
the cockpit? I’m a believer in swimming. It’s a
good deal like unto the Kingdom of Heaven, I’m
thinking. Learn how to swim first, and all these
things shall be added unto you.” He smiled
around at the circle of young faces, and rose.
“Come on, Nancy. Mother’ll have supper piping
hot, and she’ll give us pickles if we’re late.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, please wait just a minute,” begged Polly.
“We have so much to ask you, you know. You
believe in prevention first, don’t you?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Prevention first,” answered the Captain, a
trifle gravely. “Indeed I do, indeed I do;
with over a thousand youngsters dying off
every year at our summer resorts, just from carelessness
in swimming and handling boats when
they don’t know how to do either one right.
Why, if I had my way, I’d take every land lubber
in the lot, and put them through a course of
sprouts, so they could qualify for a volunteer life
saver ever after. Yes, I would.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I can’t swim,” said Sue, ruefully. “And
Polly and Kate and Ted can only paddle around
a little, and they think they could save all of us.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then not one of you can go out in a yacht
alone until you can all swim like a school of
tommycods,” said the Captain, positively. “If
I’m to be responsible for this station, I’m going
to have things shipshape and seamanlike. To-morrow
morning every one of you be ready at ten
sharp, and Nancy and I’ll be over and teach you
how to keep your chins out of water, anyway.
And not one boat shall Tom bring over until you
have learned.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Captain,” asked Polly, seriously, leaning forward
with her chin on her palms, “Did anything
ever happen to make you feel that way?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Captain eyed her whimsically.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Found me out, didn’t you? Well, I don’t
care. I’ll tell you about it, and maybe it will
make you keep an eye on the buoys and signal
lights. I used to have a knockabout called the
<i>Three Widows</i>—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What a funny name for a boat!” exclaimed
Crullers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“She was named before I got her, by a skipper
out of Noank, down on the Connecticut coast.
Pretty light she was, too, and frisky in a gale.
Tom and I could haul her close, but I didn’t let
her out to any of the summer folks. Cats and
flaties are the best for them, and then they can’t
drown unless they jump overboard. But, anyway,
this day I had been on duty down at the
Point all night, and it was late before I got
home. It was in September, and we’d had a
regular run of nor’westers with thunder storms
and general equinoctial cut-ups. Most of the
summer folks had gone home except a few down
at the hotel, and while I was on duty they persuaded
Tom they could sail the <i>Three Widows</i>.
And they didn’t know when to stop.” The Captain
paused to let this part of his narrative sink
deeply into the memories of his listeners.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They sailed clear out around the Point, and
when the big sea hit her just outside the channel
in the open, she keeled over like a pasteboard
box. We’d seen them by that time. Billy
Clewen, the keeper at the station, sings out to
us, and we got the boat out. There were five
aboard, three lads and two of their sisters.
Three went down while we were getting to them,
two boys and a girl.” The Captain cleared his
throat, and before he continued he looked out
over the bay for a minute to where a lone star
had lighted its signal fire in the eastern sky.
“The last one of the lads managed to get his
sister where she could get a grip on the centerboard,
and the two of them clung until we took
them off.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And the rest?” asked Polly, softly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s what I’m telling you. There wasn’t
any rest left. None of them could swim an inch,
and they went down. And that night their
fathers and mothers came down along the Sickle
yonder, and they walked the beach with us men,
walked hour after hour, and sometimes the
women folks would break down and cry. I
found one of the lads myself, and brought him
back to his mother, and while my heart sympathized
with her, my common sense asked why in
tunket she hadn’t taught the lad to swim and
manage a boat right before she’d let him come
nigh salt water. There won’t be any boys or girls
that I have dealings with go into it till they can
swim like a tommycod. That’s all. To-morrow
at ten.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ll be ready, Captain Carey,” Polly
promised. After the captain and Nancy had
gone, the girls were rather subdued for a while,
thinking over the Captain’s words, and as they
stood out on the porch after supper, and looked
seaward, they thought of what that night’s vigil
along the lonely shore must have been, waiting
for the bodies of the loved ones to be washed up
by the waves.</p>
<p class='c009'>It was strangely quiet away out there on the
little island. They could hear the running feet
of the surf along the shore, and its steady break
against the rocks up at the Knob. The darkness
seemed to fold itself around them like a
tangible presence, but it brought no sense of fear,
rather of peace and restfulness.</p>
<p class='c009'>Over on the bay shore there were plenty of
lights to keep them company. As Ted said, the
hotel looked like a Mississippi steamboat with its
triple rows of bright lights. Far out on the end
of the Sickle, they could see the Point light
blinking like some great eye.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, look, Polly,” cried Isabel. “Isn’t it
beautiful?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly leaned on the veranda railing and nodded
absently, her eyes half closed like the Captain’s,
as she watched the bay.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It makes me feel as though somebody were
watching us,” she said. “Doesn’t it seem queer
to think that while we are all asleep, the life
savers patrol the beach, taking care of things.
Grandfather’s a sort of a coast patrol. He’s on
the retired list, Rear-Admiral Robert L. Page,
you know. He cannot go to sea any more on
active duty, but he’s our coast patrol, and he sees
that all wrecks are looked after, and relief sent.
I think he’d make a good one.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You don’t mean that really, do you, Polly?”
Isabel never could catch a figure of speech until
it had been fully explained to her. But Polly
only smiled and straightening up she started to
sing, her full, young soprano voice floating out
clearly on the still night air.</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Sunset, and evening star,</div>
<div class='line in2'>And one clear call for me!</div>
<div class='line'>And may there be no moaning of the bar</div>
<div class='line in2'>When I put out to sea.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>Softly the other girls came from the inner
room, and joined in the old, sweet words.</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“But such a tide as moving seems asleep,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Too full for sound and foam,</div>
<div class='line'>When that which drew from out the boundless deep</div>
<div class='line in2'>Turns again home.</div>
</div>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Twilight and evening bell.</div>
<div class='line in2'>And after that the dark!</div>
<div class='line'>And may there be no sadness of farewell,</div>
<div class='line in2'>When I embark.</div>
</div>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“But though from out our bourne of Time and Place</div>
<div class='line in2'>The flood may bear me far,</div>
<div class='line'>I hope to see my Pilot face to face</div>
<div class='line in2'>When I have crossed the bar.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>There was silence for a few minutes, then
Aunty Welcome’s voice came from the kitchen,
in agonized accents,</p>
<p class='c009'>“For de mercy sakes alive, he’s got me by
mah toe!”</p>
<p class='c009'>Sue was the first to grasp the situation, and
she made a frantic dash for the door.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s my pet crab,” she exclaimed. “I found
him down on the rocks after you girls had gone
away, and I brought him back and put him
into a tin can in the kitchen so we could tame
him.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tame a crab, you goose,” cried Polly, and
she followed at headlong speed, for Aunty’s
wails rose higher and higher.</p>
<p class='c009'>The crab had managed to wriggle out of the
tin can where Sue had left him to meditate, and
had started on a leisurely examination of the
kitchen floor. Aunty Welcome’s big toe had
proved a happy diversion, as she was going to
bed, and he had caught at it instantly. Polly
disconnected him with difficulty, took him down
the beach, and threw him out into the water.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, you stay there, you family crab,” she
cried.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, how cruel, when I wanted to tame
him and study his construction,” Sue protested.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I reckon that was what he was trying to do to
Aunty, study her construction,” laughed Polly.
“Let’s turn in now. And, say, girls,” she paused
a minute, her face suddenly sober and earnest.
“I don’t know just what it is, but doesn’t it truly
seem as if we were nearer Heaven away out here?
I wonder why? And didn’t you notice that the
Captain and Tom speak of God as if they almost
knew Him, instead of just worshiping Him?
Did you hear them singing ‘Pull for the Shore,’
as they walked down the shore road to-night?
While we are all here, let’s say our evening
prayer together out on the porch, and put in the
one about ‘all perils and dangers of this night.’
You know, Ruth.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So out there in the darkness the girls knelt,
with their heads bent on the railing looking seaward,
while Ruth’s voice led them in the beautiful
old evening prayer.</p>
<p class='c009'>“‘Lighten our darkness we beseech Thee, O
Lord, and of Thy great mercy save and defend
us from all perils and dangers of this night; for
the love of Thy only son, our Saviour, Jesus
Christ.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>And from the far corner of the veranda, they
heard Aunty Welcome’s deep-toned response,
“Amen, chile, Amen.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So ended the first day on Lost Island.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chX' class='c006'>CHAPTER X</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>A HOME ON THE ROLLING DEEP</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>At ten o’clock sharp the next morning the girls
saw the Captain’s dory round the curve of the
bay shore from Fair Havens, and make for the
Knob. Nancy waved her hand to them, her face
shaded by a pink sunbonnet. The girls were already
in the water, paddling around in their new
swimming suits, and splashing one another.
Ted, Kate, and Polly, could just manage to keep
their chins above water, and float, but the rest
kept at waist-deep limits.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We brought along some ring buoys,” said
Nancy, as she stepped out of the dory, and
helped run it up the beach. “That’s how I
learned to swim. If you just hold on to one and
start out with your feet, you can learn to use one
arm at a time.”</p>
<p class='c009'>That they were very willing and obedient
pupils, even the Captain had to admit. Nancy
was the teacher, while the Captain stood by in
case of trouble, and gave orders.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let yourself go,” Nancy urged Sue, as the
latter clung closely to her in the deep water.
“Just let yourself go, and you’ll find out you’re
floating.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Sue obeyed, willingly enough, and the next instant
a pair of stockinged feet waved in the air
above the water. As Nancy pulled her up,
spluttering, she laughed, and insisted on going
ahead, and before she realized it she was making
the stroke properly and could keep herself afloat.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly had caught the stroke almost at once, and
was swimming around helping Nancy. Ruth
and Kate went about it practically, counting their
strokes, and trying first in water up to their armpits.
But Isabel waded in and sat down at ease
in the water, just where the waves could curl up
around her comfortably. Then she proceeded to
loosen her hair, and give it a good wetting.
Then back on a rock she climbed, and sat there,
letting it dry in the sun.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Come on in,” called Polly, splashing her with
water. “You mustn’t sit up on that rock and
play you’re a nixie or a mermaid while we have
to work so hard. Come on in, and swim.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, I don’t think I want to,” said
Isabel, anxiously. “I can’t keep the water out of
my eyes.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Fiddlesticks,” cried the Commodore; “come
and splash her, girls,” and they drove Isabel
back to work like the rest.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now then, now then,” shouted the Captain in
his rolling bass. “Keep at it lively, keep at it
lively. Tom’s coming with the boats at noon if
the wind holds fair, and you must learn how to
keep your heads out of the bay.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So they kept at it diligently, and when it was
over they went up on the beach. While they
lay around in the warn sand, the Captain took
Nancy and gave a regular life-saving drill to
show them what to do in case of danger.</p>
<p class='c009'>“First aid to the injured class,” Polly called
it, and it was a good name.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t scream and get excited. That’s the
first and last rule I want to give you,” he told
them, emphatically. “What would you think of
a boat crew of life-savers whooping at the top of
their lungs when they were going out at a call?
If you do happen to fall overboard, or you see
one of the others in trouble, don’t run and call
for help. Keep cool, and get right down to
business.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t people who are in danger of drowning
try to catch hold of any one who goes to rescue
them, and they both are lost?” asked Isabel,
doubtfully. “I should think it would be better
to throw them a buoy or a life preserver or something.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s something you don’t worry about,”
the Captain told her, comfortably. “I guess if
people had always been thinking of that sort of
thing, there would never have been any life saving
apparatus at all. I sorter feel that we must
leave a whole lot to Him who holdeth the sea in
the hollow of His hand. Now, remember what
I did just now, and how I did it. I’ll drill you
on it next week. You never can tell when it will
come in handy. Don’t start giving a drowned
person strong black coffee or clam chowder the
first thing to brace them up, do you mind me?
’Tain’t done by real life savers.” The Captain’s
eyes twinkled. “Just roll them over a barrel, or
your knee, and get the water out of them; then
take hold of their tongue, using a piece of clean
cloth, and get somebody else to work their arms
up and down, and if there’s any beat left in their
heart it’s going to start up again. And when
you do start them going, then it’s time enough to
give them coffee, or hot ginger tea, or anything.
Mother’s great on hot ginger tea, and I don’t
know but what prayer and ginger ought to be
counted in with the first aid to the injured. I
use them both myself in strong doses.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Promptly at eleven they all straggled up the
beach, a happy, dripping lot, running in to dress
and get luncheon over before Tom came with the
boats.</p>
<div id='i162' class='figcenter id003'>
<img src='images/illus-162.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
<div class='ic001'>
<p><span class='sc'>A Happy, Dripping Lot</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Do you think we’ll do, Captain?” asked Polly,
when she reappeared.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do? Of course you’ll do. I’ll come over
every morning on my way to the Point for a
week and drill you until you can swim. Now you
take Nancy and Tom out with you this afternoon.
It’s calm and easy, with a light breeze
blowing off shore. Better try going out in two
of the boats for a few days with Nancy and Tom
to show you how to handle them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Sue ran upstairs to the “lookout,” to see if their
fleet was in sight.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sister Anne, Sister Anne, do you see anyone
coming?” called Ted, merrily.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here’s Tom,” Sue cried. “Oh, I wonder
how soon I can make a boat act like that.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom came around the bay from Fair Havens
beautifully. He was showing off his sailor craft
freely, and the fifteen-footer was as tame to his
touch as a horse to the rein. Polly watched him
eagerly, as he brought it gracefully to the landing.
The name on the prow was the <i>Tidy Jane</i>.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s the best sail boat in the lot,” the Captain
declared, as he left them. “Nancy named
her after the first fishing boat I sailed on up to
the Banks of Newfoundland. And she’s a good
one. She’s shapely as a sloop-o’-war, and twice
as slippery.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then she ought to be the flag ship,” said
Kate. “Why don’t you take her, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly’s face fairly glowed with pride and
pleasure. Although in a way the whole club
owed its existence to her, and she was the ruling
spirit, yet she never allowed the girls to give her,
as Crullers said flatly, “the best of everything.”
In a hundred ways she showed a steady, loving
generosity and unfailing thoughtfulness and
courtesy to her “crew,” as the Admiral called
the rest of the club, but Polly said he was wrong.</p>
<p class='c009'>“A crew mans one boat or vessel, but we are an
independent club of yacht racers.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So to-day when the <i>Tidy Jane</i> was handed
over to her, she hesitated, saying that it didn’t
seem fair to the rest. But the rest insisted and
Polly consented.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Why, I’d love her just on account of her
name,” she said, as she ran down to the landing,
and stepped over into the cockpit. “You go
back and get the other boats, Tom, please. We
shall want to look this one all over till we know
the name of every part of her and just what it
is for.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’ll bring up a knockabout next,” said Tom.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What’s the difference between a catboat and
a knockabout?” asked Ted.</p>
<p class='c009'>“A cat’s different from all other yachts because
her mast is set right up in the eyes of her,”
explained Tom. “And she’s broader beamed,
and wider, and has only one sail.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“She’s a beauty,” Sue exclaimed, and Polly
nodded.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know it,” she laughed.</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom made six more trips, and finally the last
of the boats lay close to the little landing. It
was a long-remembered afternoon, as under
Tom’s guidance the girls had their first lesson in
sailing them. The day was a perfect one. A
southerly breeze came up, just enough to bear
them lightly on their course over the bay. The
Admiral had come down during the afternoon
and had given much valuable advice; but as Polly
said herself, as she stood on the porch at sundown,
her face already tanned and sleeves turned
back to the elbows:</p>
<p class='c009'>“All the advice in the world won’t help us to
sail these boats till we know all about them ourselves,
know every bit of wood in them, and
every inch of sail, and every cleat and bolt and
pin—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t they call them pintles?” suggested
Kate, but Polly never noticed the interruption.</p>
<p class='c009'>“And we know what they’re going to do next
in all sorts of weather. But I like it, don’t you,
girls?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s glorious,” cried Ruth, enthusiastically.
Her hair was hanging down her back, while she
brushed it vigorously, trying to get the salt water
harshness out of it. “I’ve named my yacht the
<i>Iris</i>. It means a rainbow.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Mine’s the <i>Patsy D.</i>,” Sue said complacently.
“I’ve always wanted a boat named the
<i>Patsy D.</i>”</p>
<p class='c009'>“<i>Patsy D.</i>,” exclaimed Polly, laughing.
“Why do you want to call her that?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Because,” said Sue, firmly, “I want a name
that will be simple and vigorous, and easy to say,
and besides the only boat I ever had a really
happy sail on was named the <i>Patsy D.</i> It’s the
excursion steamer that runs around Chesapeake
Bay for Sunday-school outings, and last year
she bumped into something and spoiled the shape
of her lovely nose, and now she’s a barge down
at Newport News. So I shall perpetuate her
memory and call my yacht the <i>Patsy D.</i>; and
you may name yours after all the rainbows and
other beauties in creation. I believe that names
should be suggestive of pleasant memories.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hurrah for the <i>Patsy D.</i>,” sang out Ted
from the couch corner.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t care if you do make fun of it. She’s
the <i>Patsy D.</i> all the same,” said Sue, stoutly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“How can she be the <i>Patsy D.</i>?” asked Polly,
teasingly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, she is,” retorted Sue. “Maybe her
real name’s Patricia.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“My boat is the <i>Witch Cat</i> and Kate’s the
<i>Hurricane</i>,” said Ted slowly; “so we shall not
have the trouble of naming ours.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tom says my boat is called the <i>Spray</i>. Do
you like that, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, I do,” said Polly. “Don’t you?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not very much. I thought I’d change it to
the <i>Lurline</i>, or <i>Lorelie</i>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I like the <i>Spray</i> the best. The name of the
yacht Dorothy and Bess Vaughan sail is the
<i>Nixie</i>. You don’t want to get too near to that.
Crullers, have you named yours? It’s the smallest
one in the lot, isn’t it?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes. Her name is the <i>Yum-Yum</i>. The sail
is like a junk boat’s,” Crullers announced,
thoughtfully; “or a bat’s wing.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tom says the boys fitted it out that way, just
for a novelty. It’s broad, and deep, and wide,
and positively unsinkable.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’ve got two life preservers, and three ring
buoys in the lockers,” Crullers said. “Tom and
the Captain put them in there so I’d feel perfectly
safe and easy.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Safe and easy? Safe and easy?” Aunty
Welcome’s voice came from the kitchen. “Dey
ain’t nuffin on earth could make me feel easy
a-sailing round on de face ob de deep like a leviathan.
You couldn’t get me on dat waste of
waters in sech a li’l’ boat for all de gold in de
bowels ob de earth. No, sah.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, but, Aunty, you’re going in swimming
with us some day,” coaxed Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Deed, I wouldn’t any more’n I’d step into an
open grabe and pull de cover in after me,” protested
Welcome. “Last night I couldn’t sleep
a wink a-listening to de rolling ob de waves.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls, just look out there,” cried Kate suddenly,
as she rose and pointed over the bay towards
the Point Light. It was past sunset, the
purple hour, as Polly always called it, and the
whole world lay wrapped in softest violet.
From somewhere beyond the Point, a deep,
long-drawn whistle sounded, then another, then
another. A faint sound of music drifted to them
on the night air, and as the steamer rounded, they
caught a glimpse of her cabin lights, a row of
gleaming diamonds against the gloom of the
twilight. Then a search-light sent a quick arm
of radiance flashing over the bay, and for a second
the little group on the porch were right in
its path, before it swept on.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I didn’t know any steamers ran in here,” said
Polly. “Isn’t that splendid? Perhaps it comes
often, and it’s really company just to see it go
by.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It must be the Portland boat,” said Kate.
“There’s one that makes a landing at Eastport,
Tom said, and stops first at the hotel pier, before
it goes up through the inlet.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then that must be the steamer that grandfather
meant, when he said he would go back by
boat. He’ll go from Eastport to Portland, then
down the coast to Boston, and so on straight
south.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then we’ll be alone away off here,” said Isabel,
sadly. “Doesn’t it seem deserted? Think
of it when there’s a storm.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And the thunders roll from pole to pole,”
groaned Polly, mischievously. “Sue, get your
mandolin, quick. Let’s play something that will
‘soothe this restless feeling and banish the
thoughts of day.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>Across the inlet made by the Knob’s projection
into the bay, the sound of music floated even
to Fair Havens, and Nancy stopped her evening
task of washing the supper dishes to listen
at the open door. The girls over at the Knob
were singing, with the three mandolins and
guitar giving a splendid accompaniment.
Across the water the melody seemed indescribably
softened and enhanced, as the gay, girlish
tones rang out:</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Oh, a life on the ocean wave,</div>
<div class='line'>A home on the rolling deep,</div>
<div class='line'>Where the scattered waters rage,</div>
<div class='line'>And the winds their revels keep.</div>
<div class='line'>And the winds (bing, bing),</div>
<div class='line'>And the winds (bing, bing),</div>
<div class='line'>And the winds their revels keep.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“I just love that bing, bing part,” said Nancy,
drawing in a deep breath. “May I go over some
evening, mother, and hear them play?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Indeed, you may,” Mrs. Carey replied
heartily. “For they seem to be as warm-hearted
and well-mannered a lot of girls as I ever did
see, and the Captain, your father, agrees with
me.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“They’re not like those Vaughan girls from
the hotel,” Tom said, stopping his whistling long
enough to join in the conversation. “They had
that knockabout of theirs out on the bay to-day,
and when I sent out a hail at them they never
even waved a hand. Some folks haven’t any
more sociability than a mosquito.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“They waved to Polly, Tom,” Nancy said;
“but then I do believe the fish would stand up on
their tails and waggle their fins at her, if she sang
out to them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What was it that father said about her?” asked
Mrs. Carey, smiling till her blue eyes were almost
hidden in wrinkles, as she stopped her mending
a moment, and leaned back in the big, red
rocker beside the south window where the roses
climbed.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Said she carried the starriest top-lights he ever
saw on a craft under her t’gallant eyebrows.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Mrs. Carey laughed as she turned to her sewing.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, she has a pair of the brownest eyes,
seems to me, I ever saw. And she’s lively too.
I’d a sight rather have those girls than a pack
of boys raising hob over there on the island all
summer long. I hope nothing will happen to
any of them.” She looked out of the window towards
the Knob. Its outlines showed up darkly
against the night sky, but the music had died
away and no light was to be seen. “I think I’ll
tell the girls to put a lamp in that side window
every night, so I’ll know they’re safe and comfortable.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So after that first night, all summer long
while the Polly Page Yacht Club held forth on
Lost Island, a beacon light was placed at the side
window to assure the Careys all was well.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXI' class='c006'>CHAPTER XI</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>SMUGGLERS’ ISLE</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>For the first two weeks hardly anything was
done, except steady, earnest lessons in swimming
and sailing. The excitement and novelty of it
made the sport a delightful one to the girls, and
they were out whenever the weather was good.
During the morning hours the bay held many
bathers, over on the hotel shore, and on the strip
of beach at the Knob likewise. Afternoons the
white sails spread and dipped like gulls out on
the water, and the <i>Tidy Jane</i> was usually the
first out and the last one in. After the first
week or so, Tom and Nancy helped only occasionally,
but the girls were doing so well they
did not need much direction now.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral returned south at the end of the
second week, but promised to run up for the regatta
in the latter part of August, and make sure
they were getting along.</p>
<p class='c009'>“If it wasn’t for the Careys I’d feel as though
it were risky, my leaving you girls up here with
just Welcome to see that you have plenty to eat
and don’t come down with croup—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We don’t have croup, grandfather,” Polly interposed,
that last day, when he dined with them
in state at the little cottage.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, never mind, whatever you should be
threatened with, I know that the Captain has you
on his mind, and you’ll be looked after and made
to behave if you get too headstrong.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What will he do to us?” Ted and Sue leaned
eagerly forward.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Put you in irons down below,” laughed the
Admiral, and he sang a line or two of a rollicking
sailor song,</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Down below, down below.</div>
<div class='line'>Sailors often go below,</div>
<div class='line'>Storms are many on the ocean.</div>
<div class='line'>Sailors have to go below.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>But they missed him until the duties and excitement
of the yacht club made them even forget
his departure. Like everything else she
undertook, Polly went into the thing heart and
soul, with both feet and hands and her sleeves
rolled up, as Sue said. She was up at five and
down on the beach with Ruth, hunting over the
last tide’s treasures for new specimens for their
collections. Although Ruth was seventeen and
Polly not quite fifteen, they had been such
staunch, firm friends at school that the summer
vacation seemed to draw the ties of friendship
all the closer.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ruth always understands just what I mean,”
said Polly. “Everybody else thinks I am too
quick-spoken and changeable. But I’m not,
truly I’m not; am I, Ruth?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, you are, too,” Ruth answered, in her
placid way. “But I like you for it. You’re
like a sea anemone. They can change their
colors, you know, to match their surroundings.
And I think it’s a good plan, the same as the
chameleon. Somebody, Emerson or Thoreau, I
forget which, says we should all keep our natures
in tune with the harmony of the spheres. What
does that mean but adapting yourself to your
immediate environment—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Cut out the big words, Grandma,” Polly said,
briefly. “It makes me think of Honoria, and
I’ll get homesick if you don’t stop.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, you know what I mean, Polly, don’t
you? It’s why you’re always a favorite with us,
even your very first year you could sit down
at Calvert Hall and listen sympathetically to
Miss Calvert’s detailed description of how much
she had suffered from neuralgia; then you’d go
right down to the kitchen and cheer up poor
Annie May and tell her the sun was surely coming
out right away, and her ‘rheumatuz’ would
be better. Then upstairs you’d fly, and help
Crullers with her Algebra, Sue with her English
Literature, and me with my Civics, and still have
time to get your own work done before class-time.
And you never grumbled one bit.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, but I lose my temper all at once,” said
Polly dolefully, as she picked up a starfish out
of a tiny pool left by the tide and straightened
out its arms. “Never mind me now, though.
Let’s not talk psychics. Look at this fellow,
Ruth. Wonder if Sue would want to tame him
to walk a tight-rope.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly lay flat down in the sand, despite her
fourteen years, and examined the starfish at
close range, in true youngster fashion, while
Ruth poked it over gently with a long splinter of
wood.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They say if one of its arms breaks off, another
will grow in its place,” said Ruth.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Will it? I wish ours would. Think how
nice it would be for all the cripples if their arms
and legs would only sprout again. Can starfish
see, Ruth?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Indeed they can. See that tiny red speck at
the end of each arm? That’s the eye. Its
mouth is underneath, and look at all the feet on
the under side of the rays, Polly. They say a
starfish is like a sieve, all tiny holes that the water
runs through.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, this one is going to be dried, neatly
dried,” said Polly. “It’s a shame to do it, but in
the interests of science he must be dried.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t show it to Sue, then,” Ruth suggested.
“She’ll want to tame it, surely. She wants to
tame everything we find and make a pet of it.
Tom brought her two turtles this morning, besides
a tin box half full of periwinkles. She’s
trying to train them to come out of their shells
when she whistles to them; think of it, Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ruth, what’s a chambered nautilus?” Polly
picked up a round shell, white and fragile, with
little raised dots on it like lace work.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That is not,” laughed Ruth. “That’s a sea
urchin, I think. You can find the nautilus only
in the tropics. They call them Argonauts too,
did you know it? I think it’s pretty, for they
say they can rise to the surface of the sea and
spread a little sail.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly leaned back her head, her hands clasped
behind it, and repeated softly:</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“This is the ship of pearl, which poets feign</div>
<div class='line'>Sails the unshadowed main.</div>
<div class='line'>The venturous bark that flings</div>
<div class='line'>On the sweet summer winds its purple wings,</div>
<div class='line'>In gulfs enchanted where the siren sings,</div>
<div class='line'>And coral reefs lie bare,</div>
<div class='line'>And the cold sea maids rise to sun their streaming hair.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I love that,” Ruth exclaimed, pushing
back her hair from her face, as she, too, leaned
back to listen. “Say it all, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not now,” Polly shook her head, “wouldn’t
it be a good idea, though, for us to have a sea-poetry
night while we’re here? Build a great
driftwood fire on the beach, and invite everybody
we know, and toast marshmallows, and each one
recite or sing her favorite piece about the sea.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Fine, Polly, fine,” Ruth nodded her head emphatically.
“The Vaughan girls might come
over, and Nancy and Tom and maybe Mrs.
Carey. Let’s.”</p>
<p class='c009'>They wandered away, then, towards the long
line of rocks that appeared at low tide at the
head of the Knob. Polly said they looked like
the Aleutian Islands in miniature, and she felt
like a lady Colossus stepping out over them. By
hunting very closely around them, one could find
what Ruth called “the enchanted gardens of the
sea;” little pools in the rocks, with sea moss that,
when turned over, was full of life, crawling,
sprawling, atomic life. The finest strands of
seaweed were away out there also, great loose
bunches, some like fern fronds, others like live
moss, and some like chains of big brown beads or
beans.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Have you found any limpets yet, Polly?”
called Ruth. “They’re the wisest ’possums you
ever saw. They shut their shells up closely when
they know the tide has gone, and then when it
comes in, they lift up the top like a little tent, and
let the water in to take a drink.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly had taken off her shoes and stockings,
and she paddled intrepidly about in the water, and
poked after new things. There had been a heavy
sea the night before, and the beach was strewn
with strands of seaweed, and driftwood, and a
fringe of shells at the high tide mark.</p>
<p class='c009'>Among the odd things they found were oysters
fastened in all sorts of strange shapes to bits of
rock and wave-worn stones. Polly found a
smooth white one, nearly a perfect oval, with two
shells opening upward from it, like wings, and
she called it Mercury’s slipper. Another flat,
green rock had ten tiny baby oysters clinging to
it, the shells overlapping one another like barnacles.</p>
<p class='c009'>So it went every day. When they had a
good-sized collection, they would go up on the
porch, to sort out, and share, and trade. The
prettiest ones they saved for paper weights, but
Isabel and Kate refused to declaim over the
oystered rocks. With pails they hunted up and
down the shore for the pink and green and opal
tinted shells that Marbury had nicknamed Neptune’s
finger nails. These shells were very shy
of the land. You had to walk along the very
edge of the water, and watch each incoming
wave, then catch the wisps of shells before they
slipped back into deep water. Some were pale
green, some a cloudy pearl like opals, and others
were deep salmon pink. Some were iridescent,
and gleamed in the sunlight beautifully. Isabel
had set her heart on stringing a portìere to carry
back to her mother, and Kate was making one
for Miss Calvert as a memento of their summer
vacation.</p>
<p class='c009'>Sue’s hobby was the live castaways of the sea.
While the other girls hunted for shells and seaweed,
she it was who sought crabs, lobsters, fish,
and turtles. Tom brought her some fish poles,
and Nancy would join her as she sat on the
little, lopsided landing place, fishing tranquilly
hour after hour. Good luck attended her, too.
Many a savory mess did she bring up to Aunty
Welcome for their dinner, and several mornings,
long before the other girls were awake, she had
sailed away out with Tom and Nancy to what
the former called the Little Banks, where the
cod ran. One day when the wind had been in
the right quarter, they even sailed out around
the Point, and caught a glimpse of the open
channel out to sea, and the life saving station.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Nancy,” Sue had said solemnly that day,
when they tacked and started homeward, “I
should think you would be so proud of your
father you wouldn’t know what to do. Don’t
you know that a life saver is a hero? Why,
down home, if a man saves anybody else’s life,
he gets a medal, sometimes from Congress, and
it is all written up in the papers, and away off
up here, these men go on saving people and
saving them, and no one hears anything about
it or seems to think it’s wonderful.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Nancy nodded. “Oh, yes, they have medals
too, sometimes.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But not enough. How many people do you
really suppose the Captain has saved?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, my, I don’t know,” laughed Nancy.
“There are ever so many of them. I don’t think
even father has kept track. He says it’s just
his day’s work, and his duty. His favorite
hymn is the one we so often sing at church over
in the village, ‘Brightly Gleams Our Father’s
Mercy.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>Nancy’s strong young voice sang out the
sweet old hymn until it fairly echoed over the
waters. She was at the tiller of the <i>Pirate</i>,
Tom’s catboat, while Sue sat up on what Nancy
called “the lid,” the little deck between the cock
pit and the coaming, her feet dangling over in
true sea-rover fashion.</p>
<p class='c009'>The lighthouse and life-saving station stood
out in silhouette against the bright, sapphire
sky, and the sea had the glimmer and the sheen
of a blue bird’s glancing wing, with tints that
changed prismatically with every cloud shadow.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Nancy,” called Sue, suddenly, bending forward
to take a better look at an island they were
passing, “what’s that pile of rock over there,
shaped like a tower?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It is a tower, or used to be. That’s Smugglers’
Cove. Father says he’s heard his father
tell how a band of Nova Scotia pirates used to
put in this bay years and years ago, and land
their goods on this island, and a family of fishermen
lived here who were really smugglers.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Are there any left now?” asked Sue, her
blue eyes wide with interest.</p>
<p class='c009'>Nancy shook her head, the fresh breeze blowing
her yellow hair back from her tanned, happy
face, that always seemed to be smiling like the
Captain’s.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They didn’t play fair with the pirates, and
one night a ship was seen just outside the harbor,
and nobody knows her name, or where she
was bound. But after that night no living soul
was ever seen on the island again, and the pirates
never entered Eagle Bay after that. Father
says after a few years some fisher boys ventured
to land there, but they didn’t find anything.
The pirates had carried away everybody, and all
that belonged to them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe they left some buried treasure there.”
Sue’s tone was brimful of romance and wonderment,
but Nancy answered in a matter-of-fact
way:</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe. Nobody knows. And years ago,
too, there was a big French boat wrecked off our
coast that was blown southward down the shore,
and folks say there was treasure on board, money
for the French provinces up in Nova Scotia and
Canada. So that’s down with the fishes too,
probably.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, dear,” said Sue, ruefully, “and here I
thought it might be some place where we could
get it. Polly’d find a way if there was any sort
of chance. I wish we could train a tommycod
to go down and bring up one piece of gold at a
time.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It isn’t in pieces. It’s gold bars, bullion,
father called it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then it will have to be a tame tommycod.
Just wait till I tell Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly’s opinion was given swiftly. Her eyes
sparkled as soon as she heard the story of Smugglers’
Cove.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let’s take lunch, and all sail over there to-morrow
and explore.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The Commodore’s word is law,” replied Kate,
laughing. “Aye, aye, sir.”</p>
<p class='c009'>They had found out the very first week after
their arrival that a row-boat was a necessity for
shore trips.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Something like a dory or a ‘dink,’” Ted suggested.
“I know my brothers, when they took
the yacht out, talked about the ‘dink,’ and it was
a little boat swung up handily to use when the
yacht wasn’t needed.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s the dinghey, you mean,” Tom told
her. “You folks over here need a dory.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, what’s the difference between the two,
Tom?” Polly called from the inner room, where
she sat writing letters home, so Tom could take
them over to Eastport that afternoon.</p>
<p class='c009'>“A dory’s a freebooter, and her own mistress,”
said Tom, “but a dinghey belongs to the ship her
painter’s fastened to.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then we want a dory.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Accordingly a dory found its way over, and
became part of the club’s equipment. The girls
liked it, too; they averaged from two to six trips
a day in it over to Fair Havens. It was handy
when they wanted to send by Tom or the Captain
to the village for groceries, for they could
bring them home in the dory from the Captain’s
house.</p>
<p class='c009'>Friday night it was when Sue told of Smugglers’
Cove, and they decided to picnic there the
next day; so early the next morning Polly rowed
over to ask Nancy to go with them.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I had better help mother with the cleaning,”
Nancy said, hesitatingly, but Mrs. Carey smilingly
waved her away.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Land, Nannie, you’re only young once. Go
along and be happy. There isn’t much to do at
all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ll have to start away from the island at
about five, Polly,” Nancy said, as she slipped off
her big apron and brushed her hair, “because
the Portland boat gets in to-day, and she’s due
at six-thirty. We had better keep out of her
way.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, and you children don’t want to catch her
swell in those wisps of boats,” Mrs. Carey added,
firmly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They wouldn’t sink, would they, Mrs.
Carey?” Polly asked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe they wouldn’t, but they’d ship a lot of
water, and rock so that any one who wasn’t used
to them, might be thrown overboard, and in a
heavy sea like the Portland boat leaves behind her
there’d be no picking you up.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly forgot to tell the girls the warning, and
in the hurry of preparation for the day’s jaunt it
slipped from her memory. Aunty Welcome
packed a mighty lunch for them, but flatly refused
to be one of the party. It was their first
extended sail without Tom’s company to reassure
them against mishap, but the day was perfect
for sailing, and the yachts took the breeze as
lightly and as easily as gulls. Polly led, and
took a course across the bay towards the hotel,
then tacked, and started straight for Smugglers’
Cove. The <i>Tidy Jane</i> led the way gallantly,
clear to the Cove, as a flagship should, but the
girls declared it was no proof of the <i>Jane’s</i>
superiority as a sailing craft. It was the way
the Commodore handled her. While the others
handled their main sheets gingerly and cautiously,
letting out and tacking slowly, Polly
was ready and waiting as soon as she reached
the end of the first course to let go, and the minute
the point was reached, biff! Polly’s sail
slackened, the boom swung about, and the cotton
caught the puff in a jiffy, and was off on
the new stretch.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Some day you’ll do that, and you’ll tumble
over into the water,” Isabel told her. “I always
expect to get hit on the head when my boom
swings about.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then you’ll be like Yonny Yohnson, the little
Swedish sailor from Stockholm that the Captain
told us about,” laughed Polly. “Listen,” and
she quoted: “‘Yonny Yohnson, he yump off
yib-boom into yolly boat, and spoil his yellow
yacket.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>Crullers was always the last to get started
from the landing. Yachting with Jane Daphne
Adams, as Polly said, was a serious matter, and
she gave it her undivided attention. Her sail
was different from those on the other boats. It
was shorter and wider, and ribbed crosswise like
a junk boat’s sails. Tom told them that Phil
and Jack, Polly’s cousins, had put it on, just as a
freakish notion, and it surely was freakish to
look at; but it was easy to handle and Crullers
liked it. There was no cabin, but the cockpit
was roomy and had several lockers underneath
the seats.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Cabin,” she had said quite scornfully, when
the girls had said it was too bad she didn’t have
one. “Call that little dark hole a cabin? Why,
it’s all you can do to turn around in it. And
even if I did have one, I’d only use it to sleep in,
and then where would my yacht be?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You mean where would you be?” laughed
Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>It was a little past eight in the morning when
they arrived at Smugglers’ Cove. There was a
line beach to run up on, and the shores looked inviting.</p>
<p class='c009'>“This is a perfect cove,” said Ruth. “It must
have given the place its name years ago. Those
little bunches of grass over yonder look like an
atoll, girls, the way they bob up here and there
around the shore.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It took some time for the newly fledged skippers
to drop anchor, and furl their sails, but
finally it was done. The tide was out, and the
girls took off their shoes and stockings and
waded up the beach from the boats, carrying their
lunch boxes and some pillows that Aunty Welcome
had put in at the last minute. It was
comical to see the procession of eight wading in,
each with a gayly colored sofa pillow on her
head, and a box under one arm, but finally everything
they wanted was ashore, and the invasion
of Smugglers’ Cove was complete.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly said it would be better to explore before
the sun rose high, and they started off, taking
the beach as the surest path. It was even a better
strip of sand than they had at the Knob, firm
and beautifully white, with the remains of millions
of infinitely tiny shells crumbling into it.
Polly took up a handful of sand and called Ruth
to come and look at it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wish we had a microscope. It’s all fragments
of shells. Isn’t it lovely, Ruth?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Wait till you see the Castle,” Nancy called.
“That’s what everybody along shore calls it,
Smugglers’ Castle. The walls are made of rocks
and shells, and a sort of clay with shells stuck
in it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Like the old walls at St. Augustine,” Polly
exclaimed. “They are like mosaic, the shells are
matched in so perfectly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, girls, I just thought of a good plan,”
Kate remarked, suddenly. “Wouldn’t it be
dandy for us to keep a log-book?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But do yacht clubs keep them?” Isabel said
dubiously.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t know whether they do or not,” Kate
returned. “But I think it would be fine for this
yacht club to. Keep a regular daybook of general
events, I mean, everything that happens to
us of general interest. Then at the end of the
vacation, have eight copies, and bind them in
linen covers to keep as souvenirs.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Kate, we’ll do it,” Polly said, approvingly.
“Call it the Memory Log Book of the Castaways
of Lost Island.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What a dandy place for ghosts,” Sue called
back to them, as she climbed up the rocks, her
shoes and stockings in her hand.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls, look at this!” Polly stopped short,
and pointed down at the beach. There were
footsteps plainly to be seen in the sand.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Who on earth could it be?” Isabel gasped,
while Nancy ran down the shore, and knelt to
look at them more closely. Polly’s eyes danced
with fun, and she sang softly under her breath:</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Oh, Robinson Crusoe, he lived alone,</div>
<div class='line'>On a little island, he called his own,</div>
<div class='line'>No one to say when he came home,</div>
<div class='line'>Robinson Crusoe,</div>
<div class='line'>What made you do so?”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t, Polly, please,” Ruth said softly, her
face rather anxious. “You can’t tell who may
be here now, looking at us, when we can’t see
them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Who cares?” Polly laughed, merrily. “It
makes it all the better. I never read about an
island yet but what it had savages, or pirates, or
something on it to make it interesting. This
pirate wears real shoes anyway, so he’s partly
civilized. You can tell by the footprints in the
sand. But what are all these other funny marks
all around. One, two, three, one, two, three, as
if a campstool had danced a jig in the wet sand.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe it’s somebody clamming,” said Crullers,
hopefully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You don’t clam that way,” Polly told her.
“You dig for clams. You don’t spear them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t,” Ted said quite seriously. “I take
my mandolin and sit down on the sand, and play
to them, and they all come out and smile at me.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You silly goose,” Polly laughed, but Ted ran
on ahead after Sue. She had vanished suddenly
over the rocky ledge ahead. They could hear
her in the distance singing “Nancy Lee” at the
top of her healthy young lungs; then all at once
there was a dead silence.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe they’ve caught her,” whispered Isabel.
“Let’s run for the boats.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Run, and leave Sue behind?” Polly’s tone
was full of reproach. “Not if I know it. Here
are seven of us, and we’re all good and hearty.
We’ll go and find out the trouble.”</p>
<p class='c009'>They turned away from the beach and started
up the rocks, Nancy and Polly leading. At the
top they paused. The entire island lay outspread
before them. It was a mass of sand, with
gradually rising rock ledges towards its center,
and scrub pines and willows everywhere. Right
in the center, on the highest rock, rose the Castle,
or “Smugglers’ Tower,” as it had been called.
It was built over the site of the old fisherman’s
hut, and was half overgrown by moss, vines, and
clambering shrubs. Inside the ruins, willows
and young birches had grown up in defiance of
the place. But Sue was nowhere in sight, and
they could see all over the island from where they
stood.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXII' class='c006'>CHAPTER XII</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>“GIRL OVERBOARD!”</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>“Don’t call out to her,” whispered Polly.
“Wait here just a minute, while I climb down
these rocks. This is the way she went, you can
see her tracks.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tracks, on a rocky path,” murmured Ted,
helplessly. “Polly, where are they? I don’t
see any?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here, where the grass is trodden down.
Now, don’t get frightened. Just wait for me.”
Polly started down the rocky path, and at its
base looked around cautiously. Not a living
soul was in sight anywhere, but even while she
hesitated, she saw Sue’s form come apparently
out of the ground itself over in a rocky enclosure,
well sheltered from wind and wave.
Polly turned, called to the rest to follow, and ran
ahead to join Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s a camp,” Sue said excitedly, as she
reached her. “And there’s a real cave, Polly,
and a bed in it, and dishes, and the bed’s just
been slept in, and there’s a coffee pot in there
that’s still warm.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sue, I never knew you were such a splendid
detective,” Polly answered, warmly. “Let’s
drink the pirates’ coffee right away.”</p>
<p class='c009'>But Ruth and Kate arrived and advised caution
until they found out just what the mystery
was.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s probably only some fishermen,” said
Nancy, in her matter-of-fact way. “Father’d be
sure to know if any strangers had arrived and
settled here.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly started for the entrance to the cave.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There may be somebody in there,” Ruth
cried. “Please don’t go in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“There’s nobody at home,” Sue replied. “I’ve
been in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It was a good-sized cave, Polly saw, as soon
as she ventured into it. The floor was of finest
sand. There was a bed, a very primitive bed,
but yet a bed, made of branches of pine with
blankets spread over them. Some boxes served
as seats, and a ledge of rock as a shelf for some
dishes. But Polly’s quick eyes noticed a couple
of suitcases in one corner and sundry articles of
clothing lying around such as no consistent
smuggler or pirate would have deigned to don.
When she came out into the sunlight and faced
the girls, she was smiling.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do fishermen around here have books and
magazines lying around in caves?” she asked.
“There are all sorts of such things in this cave.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, anyway, Polly,” Kate put in, in her
level-headed way, “whatever they have in there,
we have no business going in and rummaging
around, and they’ll very soon tell us so if they
appear suddenly. I move that we vanish.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The motion was carried unanimously, and the
girls climbed the path back to the Castle.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We can watch anyone who comes, from up
here,” Polly said. “They’ll see the yachts anyway,
and know they have visitors.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe they have already,” Kate suggested.
“Maybe that’s what ails them. Maybe they’ve
seen us and have run away to hide.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, such a hive of maybes,” laughed Ruth.
“Still, maybe it’s so, Polly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The idea gave them fresh courage, and they
hurried to the Castle, and hunted all over its
ruins, enthusiastic over the outlook for adventure.
But even when they had reached the topmost
point and the entire island lay before them,
not a sign of life did they detect. Save for their
own pretty fleet, riding at anchor down in the
cove, the shore was deserted, and not a single
sound disturbed the air.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I think whoever it is has gone fishing for his
breakfast,” Nancy said, decidedly. “And it’s
probably only some of the boys from the summer
cottages or the hotel, having a little camp
for a day or two. Let’s go along as if nothing
had happened, and if they should come back,
we’ll just tell them we came over to see the
island and didn’t know it had any people on it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It seemed to be the only sensible thing to do,
so the girls agreed. As Ruth said, in these days
it was hardly likely there were pirates on the
island, and a party of ordinary campers wouldn’t
eat them up or open fire on them from any secret
place. So in spite of their curiosity and natural
uneasiness, the girls managed to spend a happy
day. They dug clams and roasted them down
on the beach for lunch, and even borrowed a few
things from the cave outfit, pepper and salt,
some forks, and an extra bottle of Chili sauce.
With a plentiful supply of crackers, and all that
Aunty Welcome had put into their lunch boxes
besides, it was a feast. After it was over, the
girls returned what they had borrowed, and
placed a conspicuous sign on them, written by
Polly:</p>
<p class='c010'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Smuggler</span>:</p>
<p class='c011'>“Thank you for your pepper, salt and Chili sauce. We
leave in return this jar of Aunty Welcome’s marmalade,
and half a nut cake, and six crullers, and some hermits.
Do you know what hermits are? We thought it would be
appropriate to give you some.”</p>
<p class='c013'>“Put in an invitation for him to come over and
see us,” Ted added, after the six had stood off
and regarded the sign critically. So Polly
added down at the bottom,</p>
<p class='c010'>“And we should be happy to entertain you at any time
at the yacht club on Lost Island.”</p>
<p class='c013'>“But what if he should come?” asked Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“He won’t,” retorted Polly, happily.
“Smugglers aren’t a bit sociable. But if he
should, we’ll survey him in the offing, and if he
comes in a long, low rakish looking craft, we’ll
all take to our heels, and run at once for Fair
Havens. This is what grandfather would say
was a courtly and polite thing to do after we had
taken his Chili sauce, and it really was extra
nice.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Later Kate climbed to the top of the ruined
tower again, and returned, after making a careful
observation.</p>
<p class='c009'>“When you were in the cave, Polly, did it
seem to grow larger towards the interior?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I think so. I could stand up in it easily, and
it arched at the back.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t think it’s a cave at all. I was on a
direct line with it up in the tower from the place
where I stood, and I’m wondering if it isn’t a
passage cut through to the tower to make a way
of escape at some time.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Kate, I never thought that you were a romancer,”
laughed Polly. “If it had been
Isabel, we wouldn’t have been surprised, but for
you—” she shook her head doubtfully. “I
shouldn’t wonder if there were sea chests of gold,
and all sorts of loot hidden away in there, but
I’m not going in after them. Come on, girls.
It’s after five, and the wind will die down soon.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t see how we’re going to beat back
against it, anyway,” Isabel said. “It’s blowing
this way from the Knob instead of towards it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, we’ll get back some way,” Polly led the
way down the rocks to the shore, and the rest
followed. But it took some time to gather up
the shells and seaweed they had collected, so that
when they were ready to start the sun was sloping
well down in the west, towards the back of
Bald Bluff on the ocean shore.</p>
<p class='c009'>Crullers had a hard time getting started.
The other girls were well along on their course,
before she left the shelter of the Cove, and even
then, she failed to catch the puff of wind that
should have carried her towards the inlet, where
Polly said, they would tack, and cut across the
bay in a triangle.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t see how you can do it, Polly,” Kate
said doubtfully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“The wind will change when the tide comes
in,” Polly called. “We’ll be all right.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, look at Crullers,” Sue cried, all at
once, as she happened to glance back over her
shoulder. “She’s off the course, and making for
the open channel.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The yachts were spread out like a line of
geese, one behind the other, and Crullers’ was
last of all. Polly stood up, one hand on her tiller,
and looked back. Crullers was waving
wildly and shouting something to them, but the
wind carried her voice the other way. And the
little, broad-keeled “cat” was taking her own
pleasure, headed merrily for the open channel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Crullers, sit down and steer,” shouted Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I can’t,” cried Crullers, helplessly, “the
wooden thing in the handle part of it’s broken.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now what does she mean by that, the little
lubber,” thought Polly. “It must be the pintle
bolt. I’m glad she’s got three ring buoys in the
locker.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The other girls were dazed and couldn’t think
what to do. Polly slackened her sail, and put
about. As she passed the others, she called to
them to keep along as they were and she would
look after Crullers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t see what she’s making all that noise
about,” Sue exclaimed, as they heard Crullers
calling to them, frantically. “That boat of hers
wouldn’t sink if you jumped on it, and she’s got
all those life preservers packed away in the lockers,
and the buoys too. There’s no danger at all.
She’s just scared.”</p>
<p class='c009'>But suddenly there came a sound from the
channel that made their blood chill, the long, hollow
boom of a steamer’s signal.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly! Polly! Polly!” cried poor Crullers,
in agony, and then they saw her drop down in
the boat, and cover her face with her hands.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s the <i>City of Portland</i> coming in, Polly,”
Kate shouted, with her hands up to her lips.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly shook her curls out of her face and
nodded. “I’ll get her all right,” she called back.</p>
<p class='c009'>One hand held the tiller firm and steady, the
other had loosened the main sheet, and held it so
as to get the benefit of every breath of wind.
Her head was bending forward, her eyes half
closed like the Captain’s, as they watched the
squat little catboat ahead with Crullers crouching
it.</p>
<p class='c009'>The big boat whistled again, sharp long calls
of direction, of which not one of the girls understood
the meaning. Crullers stood up.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sit down,” called Polly, “sit down, and
steady your boat, you little goose. Hold her off
to windward, Crullers, not that way, towards the
island, towards the island! Oh, can’t you hear
anything? Loosen the main sheet, that rope
right there at the end of your boom, and let the
wind swing her about. Oh, dear, can’t you do
what I say, Crullers?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Crullers’ fingers fumbled over the main sheet.
They were out in the channel now, with the Point
of the Sickle lying at their right hand, and the
lighthouse and station in plain sight. Just as
Polly set her teeth, and tried to make straight
for the other boat, the great white steamer, <i>City
of Portland</i>, hove into sight, steaming up the
channel. Then something that Polly had either
read or heard flashed through her mind. A sailing
vessel has the right of way. But Crullers
did not know that, and when she saw that monster
bearing straight down on her, all her courage
and presence of mind left her. The one thing
she did remember were the ring buoys in the
lockers at the stern.</p>
<p class='c009'>The <i>Portland</i> was blowing its whistle steadily
now, and Polly called as she came near, “It’s
all right, Crullers. They’re holding up to let us
pass. Keep right along.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Crullers was ahead, and did not seem to hear
her, and just as she felt sure they would pass
safely, she saw Crullers deliberately stand up in
her rocking, unsteady little craft, with her two
arms thrust to the shoulders through a couple of
ring buoys, and another held fast in her hands.
Her round, good-tempered face was blanched
white, as she turned towards Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m going to jump, Polly!” she called out
shakily.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t you dare to!” Polly cried, but her
words had no effect. They were right in the
path of the <i>Portland</i>, and under her great
bow. The Captain was shouting something to
them, as he leaned out over the bridge. Bells
seemed to be ringing, and the rails were lined
with tense, startled faces. Polly could hear some
women screaming up on deck. The engines had
stopped on the big boat, and she was drifting
easily with the incoming tide towards the inlet.
It seemed in that second of time as if everybody
on the steamer was shouting out something different
as Crullers jumped into the water.</p>
<p class='c009'>There was hardly any sea on. The bay was
beautiful in the soft golden glow before sunset.
The tide had turned, and was coming in in long
easy swells like the waves from the wake of a
steamer. It seemed to Polly afterwards, when
she looked back to that time, as if she saw everything
in the visible universe in those few seconds.
The big boat standing off, and booming, booming
at them distractedly; Crullers’ little catboat,
righting itself gallantly after her jump, and
starting off on its own hook towards the Point;
Crullers herself, looking so comical in spite of the
tragic danger, with the ring buoys around her
arms like a new fashion in sleeve puffs, and the
third one hugged to her breast as she slipped under
the water; and most vivid of all, perhaps, the
Life Saving Station, where they evidently had
been seen, for somebody was running back up
the beach towards the low white building.</p>
<p class='c009'>Then suddenly she saw Crullers’ taffy-colored
pigtails, lank and drenched, and her face dripping
and deathlike, as she came up. It seemed
the easiest and most natural thing in the world
to lean over and catch hold of the pigtails. Polly
never thought of doing anything else, but as she
did so, and Crullers caught hold of the <i>Tidy
Jane</i> and was helped and pulled over into its
cockpit, a great, swelling cheer went up from the
decks of the <i>Portland</i>, and the captain swung
off his cap in salute to the little Commodore
of the Yacht Club, as she tumbled her drenched
mate on the locker, and went back to steering.</p>
<p class='c009'>The <i>Jane</i> came about handsomely, and the
engines on the steamer started to throb. Then
Polly glanced up, with one of her rare, frank
smiles that won her so many friends, and waved
her hand back to all the faces that seemed to
smile at her, and at the big, burly Maine captain,
who laughed as he shouted down to her:</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well done, mate, well done!”</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXIII' class='c006'>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>POLLY’S “CURRENT EVENTS”</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>“Put it down in the log book, Kate, under
the head of current events,” Polly said that night,
as she sat beside Crullers’ couch, and they all
discussed the rescue. “And don’t say heroism
again. It wasn’t anything of the kind. It was
just plain common sense.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s so,” agreed the Captain, smiling
shrewdly. “It’s an awful embarrassing thing,
this being a hero, Miss Polly. I’ve had to go
through it several times, more or less, whenever
I happened to haul some landlubber out of deep
water, and I can sympathize with you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just the same, Captain, you’ll never know
how glad I was to see that life-boat round the
Point. The tide was setting me at my wits’
end, and I never would have got the <i>Tidy Jane</i>
back by myself.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“She’s powerful skittish once she gets the
smell of the open sea,” the Captain remarked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, and they helped me get the salt water
out of Crullers too,” added Polly. “I’ll bet a
cooky she won’t like salt for a year, after that
one good taste of it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Crullers laughed feebly. But the other girls
could not make light of the affair. It had
seemed altogether too serious and tragic, when
they had watched those two frail, white-winged
little boats drifting straight in the face of danger,
and then Crullers’ frantic leap into the
sea, and the coming of the life-boat around the
Point. It all savored too much of real tragedy,
Kate and Ruth said, and it ought to teach them
a good lesson.</p>
<p class='c009'>The life savers had picked up Crullers’ boat
midway down the channel, and had towed the
<i>Tidy Jane</i> in under bare poles. Polly and
Crullers had been taken up to the Station, Crullers,
dripping and half unconscious, carried in
the arms of the Captain, while Polly walked
along the narrow boardwalk behind them, and
the rest of crew followed, five men altogether.
At the Station, Crullers had a personal experience
with “first aid” methods, for she had not
kept her mouth closed when she had gone under,
and as the Captain said she had “shipped a sea.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The other girls returned to Lost Island in
their boats, as soon as possible, and prepared
Aunty Welcome; then walked back on the shore
road to meet the Captain when he came along
carrying Crullers wrapped up like a papoose
in a real, United States Life Saving Corps
blanket.</p>
<p class='c009'>That night Mrs. Carey had come over to the
island cottage to make sure that Crullers was
doing well. Aunty Welcome had dosed her with
hot ginger tea, which as Polly said was punishment
enough in itself with a July thermometer
climbing toward the nineties. She had also had
a warm mustard bath, and lay wrapped in a
blanket on a couch in the living-room. The
Captain sat on a camp stool, and whittled away
at a new pintle bolt for Crullers’ rudder. He
said nothing all the time the girls told of the
day’s adventures to Mrs. Carey, not even when
Polly said she was glad the life boat had come
after them, but he nodded his head slowly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aren’t you going to scold us any?” asked
Polly, finally. “We should have started for
home sooner, and maybe we didn’t manage the
yachts just right. It was a queer wind that
came with the tide. It blew from the southwest—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“West by sou’west,” corrected the Captain
gravely.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, sir,” Polly agreed. “So we had to beat
our way back criss cross over the bay to catch
any good from it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You needn’t explain,” the Captain shook his
head, his eyes twinkling under their shaggy
brows. “I’m ashamed of you all, getting the
crew out on a day when there was hardly a ripple
on the bay.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We didn’t call for help,” Polly pleaded.
“They must have heard the <i>Portland’s</i> whistle.
I am sorry about it. The captain of the <i>Portland</i>
must think we’re a nice lot of yacht lubbers.
More likely he’s calling us yacht lubbers.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I met him at the hotel to-night when I went
down to telephone,” said the Captain, slowly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, what did he say about us?” the girls
broke in. “Please tell us, Captain Carey.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“He said that the girl in the <i>Tidy Jane</i> deserved
a medal for the way she handled her boat,
and saved the little fat one.” The Captain’s
face was quite serious.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I didn’t do anything to Crullers except pull
her over into the <i>Jane</i>,” said Polly, blushing.
“She’d have kept afloat anyway till the life boat
reached her. She was floating lovely with all
those little buoys on her.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I was not,” protested Crullers, indignantly.
“I was just full of salt water. I swallowed
gallons of it when I went under that first time.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly was watching the Captain’s countenance
as the barometer of his opinion on the matter,
but it betrayed little. He listened to all they had
to say; then finally leaned back and closed his
big jack knife. Mrs. Carey had gone out into
the kitchen to confer with Aunty Welcome about
the need of a doctor.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I was expecting it,” said the Captain at last.
“I’ve been telling all along, to Tom, and Nancy,
and mother, that there’d be some doings pretty
soon, and they came a little sooner than I expected.
You’d better not go sailing about too
much after this unless you’re sure of yourselves.
For if you can get all tangled up like that on
a fair day, where would you be in a sudden
squall? I’ll expect now every time we get a
good breath of wind to look over the bay and see
one of the yachts floating around bottom up, and
a couple of you youngsters hanging on to it by
your eyelids. Now mind what I say, keep down
at this end of the bay, out of the channel and
away from the other craft, till you know enough
to get out of the way. What were you doing
out there anyhow, trying to round the Point?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls had nearly forgotten their adventure
at Smugglers’ Cove in the newer excitement
of the accident, but now they told of the day
there, and of the mystery, until the Captain
leaned back his head and laughed over it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, who do you suppose it can be, Captain?”
asked Isabel and Ted in one breath.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is there a passage from that cave up to the
old ruins?” Kate added.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They were footprints with shoes on,” Sue
exclaimed.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Were they indeed?” The Captain laughed
till he coughed, and wiped the tears out of his
eyes. “Well, now, you take my advice and keep
off the island, for I’m thinking it’s inhabited.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you know who lives there?” Polly leaned
forward to meet his glance, and the Captain
slowly winked, oh, but so wisely and cautiously.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am saying nothing,” he told them. “Can
you hear me?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Mrs. Carey appeared in the doorway just
then.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Come along home, father,” she said. “We’ve
decided not to get any doctor. I guess Welcome’s
about right. She says they frets around,
and muddles things up, and gets in the way, and
she can mix up just as queer a mess as they can
any time. I don’t think the child is hurt much,
anyhow. She’s pretty well scared, and salted,
and that’s about all. Polly, I’ll send over some
fresh string beans and a mess of peas in the
morning by Nancy, and Tom’s going to the village
if you need anything.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aren’t they good to us?” Polly said, as she
came back after saying goodbye and watching
the gleam of the lantern swing along the hummocks
over to the shore road. “I thought he’d
scold us hard.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We deserved it,” Kate answered, calmly, as
she stuffed a couple of sofa cushions back of her
head, and clasped her hands on them. “Here
we’ve stopped a steamer, excited all her passengers
and crew, made the life-savers hustle out
in fair weather, and generally let everybody
around Eagle Bay know what a lot of lubbers
we are at handling yachts, all because Crullers’
pintle bolt got twisted and she took a jump overboard.
It’s lucky, Polly, the Admiral isn’t here.
He’d send us all back to Queen’s Landing in a
jiffy.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We didn’t mean to make so much trouble,”
Polly answered cheerily, as she shook up Crullers’
pillow, and got her a glass of fresh water
for the night. “I’m only thankful it was no
worse. Let’s make the best of it. Let’s make
an interesting invalid out of Crullers. Aunty
Welcome says she must stay in bed to-morrow
till all danger is over of chills or fever or stomach
upsetness. I’m going to loan her my pink
kimono to wear over her nightgown, and we’ll
bring in some wild roses from the shore road,
and entertain her with a—oh, girls, I know
what.” Polly stopped short, her eyes sparkling
as they always did when she had a sudden idea.
“Let’s give her a ‘Sea Social.’ We were going
to have one some evening, but now we’ll do it
to-morrow afternoon. We can get the Vaughan
girls over. Have Tom leave word at the hotel
for them, and Nancy will come, and we’ll all
sing sea songs and recite sea poetry, and we’ll
have a lunch right out of the sea, fried flounder.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wish we could have crab <i>a la</i> Newburg,”
Isabel remarked musingly. Polly went to the
open window, and stretched out her arms seaward,
as she sang:</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Flounder, flounder in the sea,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Come, I pray, and talk to me.</div>
<div class='line'>For my wife, Dame Isabel,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Wishes what I fear to tell.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>She turned just in time to catch the pillow
that Isabel sent flying across the room, and they
all sat down to make up a program for Crullers’
“Sea Social.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It was a great success. Even Mrs. Carey
came over, with a fresh gingerbread and a pail
of rich cream.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They go mighty nice together,” she said,
smilingly, and the girls agreed with her before
the feast was over.</p>
<p class='c009'>Dorothy and Bess made the trip across the
bay in the <i>Nixie</i>, to call on the invalid, and lend
their share to the social side of the afternoon.
Crullers had never been the guest of honor anywhere
before, but she was that day, as she sat
up on the couch in the living-room, with Polly’s
long pink kimono around her, and pink wild
roses fastened on each side her braids, above her
ears, in Japanese fashion.</p>
<p class='c009'>The glee club played all the sea songs they
could remember, and all hands piped up merrily
from “Nancy Lee” to “Anchored.” Then Polly
announced that the best part of the program was
yet to come. Each of the girls would render
her favorite poem about the sea, and Crullers
had to start the ball rolling.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I only know the one about the ‘Schooner
Hesperus,’ Polly,” she said, shyly, “and I like
it best of all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Say it, then,” Polly told her. “We like it,
too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Then Kate recited “The Three Fishers,” her
slow, contralto tones and rather dreamy air well
fitting themselves to the sad old verses. Isabel
gave “Annabel Lee” most touchingly, and Polly
ordered a quick song in happier vein to offset
the sadness of the two. So after a rousing
“Billy was a Bo’sun,” Ted got up, and declaimed
the only poem on the sea she knew, one she had
had to memorize at Calvert Hall as a punishment
for putting the house cat into Fraulein’s
shirtwaist box, and scaring her nearly into a
fainting fit (Fraulein, not the cat).</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“The mountains look on Marathon,</div>
<div class='line in2'>And Marathon looks on the sea,</div>
<div class='line'>And sitting there a while alone,</div>
<div class='line in2'>I dreamed that Greece might yet be free.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>Polly always liked to watch Ted’s face when
she came to that verse. She would lift her chin,
and her gray eyes would flash, and her fists
clench. At Calvert Hall Ted had always been
the most successful “declaimer,” as Miss Calvert
termed it, and she “fixed Greece good
and plenty” this time; so Sue said when it
was over.</p>
<p class='c009'>Dorothy declared she didn’t know any poem
about the ocean, but she would sing “Sweet and
Low” if they liked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not too low, please,” Crullers said, eagerly,
“or I won’t hear all the words away over here.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I declare, Crullers,” laughed Kate. “We
should have nicknamed you Stubs, for if there’s
a possible thing for you to stumble over, you do
it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly recited her favorite, “The Chambered
Nautilus,” and as she came to the last verse
Mrs. Carey closed her eyes and smiled, her
hand up to her face, as the grand old words
rang out.</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Build thee more stately mansions, oh, my soul</div>
<div class='line'>As the swift seasons roll.</div>
<div class='line in2'>Leave thy low vaulted past,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Let each new temple, nobler than the last,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,</div>
<div class='line in4'>Till thou at length art free,</div>
<div class='line'>Leaving thine outgrown shell,</div>
<div class='line in4'>By life’s unresting sea.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I love that,” Nancy cried, her blue eyes
sparkling as Polly finished. “Father would,
too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, there’s just Bess, and Mrs. Carey, and
you left, Nancy,” Kate said. “Come, Bess, do
something.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I don’t know anything,” Bess said,
shyly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, she does, too,” Dorothy laughed.
“Make her say the poem from ‘Alice in Wonderland’
about the whiting and the snail.”</p>
<p class='c009'>All the girls added their persuasion and Bess
agreed. She was only thirteen, and small for
her age, with a mass of yellow, square-cut curls
around her mischievous face, and she had plenty
of freckles. The piquant, teasing look on her
face was delicious as she asked, plaintively, coaxingly,</p>
<div class='lg-container-l c012'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance,</div>
<div class='line'>Oh, will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Now, Mrs. Carey and Nancy are next,” Kate
said, as soon as the applause had stopped, and
Crullers leaned back on her pillow flushed and
radiant over the merriment.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, now, we didn’t expect to speak any
pieces,” Mrs. Carey answered, her pleasant
motherly face beaming around at them with love
and kindliness. She used to say that she’d got
so in the habit of mothering the two children
and the Captain that it was just second nature
to her to mother anything in sight. “I don’t
know any poetry, and neither does Nancy, but
if you like I’ll read you something that we
think’s the finest poetry ever was written about
the sea, and then Nancy can sing her favorite
hymn, ‘Pull for the Shore.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>She stepped back into the kitchen and spoke
to Aunty Welcome, and presently returned with
the latter’s Bible in her hand. Sitting there
in the cool, cosy room, whose windows all opened
to the sea, she read that beautiful Psalm that
both she and the Captain loved to read aloud,
the One Hundred and Fourth, with its grand
old song about He “who layeth the beams of
his chambers in the waters: who maketh the
clouds His chariot: who walketh upon the wings
of the wind: who maketh His angels spirits, and
His ministers a flame of fire.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Then Nancy’s clear, sweet voice fairly made
the little room ring with the hymn she loved:</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Light in the darkness, sailor,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Day is at hand,</div>
<div class='line'>See o’er the foaming billow,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Fair haven land.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>After it was over, and they had all gone excepting
the yacht club girls themselves, Crullers
said she thought it was the happiest time she had
ever had, and the next day she was able to “rise
and shine,” as Aunty Welcome told her, and take
up life again.</p>
<p class='c009'>Things were very quiet at the island for a
week after the mishap in the bay. The girls restricted
their sailing to the west end of the bay,
down towards Fair Havens, and Polly was busy
finding out how to manage yachts, keep them in
repair, and so on, and she called Tom to account
roundly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just look at these seams in the <i>Tidy Jane</i>,
Tom,” she said one day, when they were down
at the landing overhauling the boats. “Don’t
they need re-caulking?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I guess not,” Tom responded, easily. “Father
and I went all over them last spring, when
we did the rest. They’ll swell after they’ve been
in the water a few weeks anyhow. Sometimes
when you caulk a boat up too tight, she’ll spring
on you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“All right, then, but just look at the paint,
will you? It’s fairly peeling off in some places,
Tom. You won’t find any of the Orienta boats
looking like that.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom looked at her, his eyes beginning to
twinkle as his father’s did.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know what you’re up to,” he laughed.
“You’re going to race in the regatta!”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly said nothing, but she kept on her course
of fitting out for the race. The Orienta was to
open its club house the first of August for the
regatta season. It had been open as a club house
since the first of June, but officially it welcomed
the sailing world from the first of August until
the fifteenth, the day of the first run. Even
from the porch of the little cottage on the Knob,
the girls could look across the bay to where the
handsome red and white club house stood midway
between the hotel and the row of summer
cottages that straggled along the north shore all
the way to the Inlet. As long as the girls lived
on Eagle Bay, they never knew the name of the
little river that rambled down between the bluffs
and mingled with the channel waters. Everyone
called it the Inlet, so they did too.</p>
<p class='c009'>At one side of the club house was built a tall
yacht shed, for the housing of such boats as were
left there in the winter time. The best ones
came up from the south, Dorothy said. Not
way down south, but around Boston harbor, and
Long Island, and New York. Her father’s big
sloop would be the flag ship at the regatta, she
told them, for he was the commodore of the
challenging club.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They don’t have a flag ship at a regatta,”
Tom had interposed. “I never raced in one, but
I’ve watched them ever since I was knee high to
a toadstool. There’s just the racing yachts, and
the judge’s boat, and they divide them into different
classes.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I thought that was what they called it,” Dorothy
said, in her pretty, half serious way, and
Tom walked away, grinning blandly over the
ways of girl people in general.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Admiral had written that he was surely
coming north regatta week, and Polly felt a
growing emulation in her breast, a feeling of
pride in the Polly Page Yacht Club, against this
mighty rival.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let’s go over there and watch them overhaul
their yachts,” she said finally, the day before the
opening; so they tramped around the shore road
to Orienta Point. Almost the first persons they
saw were the Vaughan girls, sitting up on the
broad veranda with a lot of ladies and young
girls.</p>
<p class='c009'>“This looks like a celebration of some kind,
girls,” Kate said, merrily. “We had better be
careful.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The others hesitated for a moment. They
were dressed as usual in their dark blue yachting
suits, with white sailor collars, and white duck
knockabout hats to match. Even from where
they stood, there was surely a festive appearance
to the club group. But the girls had already
seen them, and came hurrying down the steps to
meet them, with outstretched hands and glad
smiles of welcome.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I’m so glad you came over at last,” cried
Bess. “Mamma wants you all to come up and
join us. To-morrow’s the official guest day, but
mamma’s giving a tea this afternoon to the lady
visitors, and we Juniors are helping pass cake
and things. Come up, now, for we’ve just been
telling about how Polly saved Crullers’ life the
other night.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, but I didn’t,” exclaimed Polly, reddening
under her coat of tan. “Truly, Bess, I
didn’t. Crullers, I mean Jane Daphne Adams
here, jumped overboard, and she was floating
comfortably with three buoys attached to her
when I helped her into the boat.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, the captain of the <i>Portland</i> didn’t tell
it that way,” Dorothy said. “He came up to
the hotel that evening and told us all about it.
He said that you were the pluckiest girl he had
ever seen handle a yacht alone. Won’t you
please come up, and let mamma talk to you about
it? She’s ever so anxious to meet all of you girls
from the island camp anyway, for Bess and I
have talked of you so frequently.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But we really hadn’t better to-day, had we,
Polly?” Ruth’s eyes questioned Polly. What
would Miss Calvert say if she knew six of her
best girls had attended a yacht club afternoon
tea in blue duck.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s the correct thing to do,” Bess persisted,
laughing at their perplexity. “The law of yacht
clubs gives a tacit membership, papa says, to all
members of other clubs who may be in the neighborhood.
And they can’t always be in party attire,
you know.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, let’s, Polly,” pleaded Isabel. So Ruth
and Polly led the way up the broad steps to the
veranda, with its handsome awnings, potted
palms, and dark green wicker chairs and tables
scattered invitingly about.</p>
<p class='c009'>Mrs. Vaughan welcomed them cordially and
introduced them to the other ladies and a lot of
the “Juniors,” girls of their own age, and friends
of Dorothy’s and Bess’s.</p>
<p class='c009'>“And you are all Southern girls, Dolly tells
me,” she said, looking from one face to the other.
“Virginia girls. How did you ever happen to
drift away up on our rocky coast?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly explained how it had all happened, and
then she discovered that Mrs. Vaughan was an
old friend of her Aunt Milly, Mrs. Holmes, and
knew the four boy cousins.</p>
<p class='c009'>“So you must not remain isolated over at the
Knob after this, girls,” she told them at parting,
when they had partaken of ice cream, delicate
shrimp and lobster salad sandwiches, and tea.
“The Orienta is very gay during August, and
we have a good many Junior functions for our
younger element. I will speak to the Commodore
about your club and see that it is listed for
the regatta, and whenever you are able to come
over I will chaperon all of you and see that you
get back safely. We have our touring car up
here, and you can all go home in that, you know,
any time.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, forevermore,” gasped Polly, as they
trudged back homeward with the sunset spreading
its glory over the world of land and sea and
sky. “Girls, we have stumbled all unawares into
society. Let’s conduct ourselves as angels.
Whatever will grandfather say!”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Did you notice their dresses?” asked Isabel,
her eyes dreamy with rapt remembrance. “That
one which Mrs. Vaughan wore was sheer, hand-embroidered
batiste, and the long coat was of
real Irish crochet.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t believe she sleeps one bit better than
I do,” said Sue, recklessly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But, Sue, did you notice Dorothy’s dress?”
persisted Isabel. “It was white organdie over
pale yellow silk that just matched the tea roses
in the pattern. I love clothes that show good
taste.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, Lady Vanitas,” said Polly, reprovingly.
“Don’t let your heart dwell so on raiment.
Lilies of the field, you know. It was
pretty, and there you are. We’ve all brought
our Commencement Day dresses along for Sundays,
so we’ll freshen them up, and I guess we
can go to the ball without the help of any god-mothers
or pumpkins. I don’t feel one bit bothered
over the social side of it, but how can we
hold our own in a regatta, girls? It’s so kind
of Mrs. Vaughan to invite us to join them, isn’t
it? How funny our little fifteen-footers will
look alongside the big forty- and sixty-footers.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But she said they were going to have special
entries for the Junior events, don’t you remember?”
Sue interrupted eagerly. “I don’t see why
we couldn’t enter for them. Dorothy and Bess
are going to sail their yacht, and they say there
are five or six others who are going in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then we will sail ours,” Polly retorted. “I
have intended to all along, but I wanted some
encouragement. I wouldn’t race with a great
yacht towering over me like a genii just out of
a bottle, but I’ll pit the <i>Tidy Jane</i> against any
yacht of her build along the whole coast of North
America.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hurrah!” Sue threw her cap up into the air.
“Wait till you see the <i>Patsy D.</i> come up gallantly
in the wind, and grab the Orienta Junior
cup away from all of you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It gave them plenty to talk about and plan
for, at all events. As Ruth said the following
morning, the summer was not half long enough
for all the things they planned to do. They
rose early, any time between five and six. Nobody
except a clam could have slept with the sun
coming up like a great, golden blossom behind
Bald Bluff, and the sea running along the beach
with little waves like dancing feet, calling to one
to come and play too.</p>
<p class='c009'>They tried over and over again to divide each
day systematically, but, as Polly said, “current
events tripped them up.” Aunty Welcome protested
that she would do the washing, ironing,
cooking, and kitchen work, but not a tap more;
so each took care of her own room, and Polly
looked out for the living-room besides. Sue had
chosen the veranda for her special charge, and
she kept it spotless. They had brought along
two hammocks, and had found another one
rolled up with the porch mats under a window
seat. The three hung out on the veranda temptingly,
and through the long warm afternoons,
when they were not sailing, the girls would sit
out there and make all sorts of decorative things
out of the shells in their collection, while Ruth
read aloud. The very week of their arrival, she
had gone across the bay with Nancy in the
<i>Pirate</i> and had discovered the village circulating
library.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I do believe, Grandma,” Polly had said, merrily,
when she saw her returning with a brand
new book, “that if you landed on the coast of
South Africa, you’d ask the first gorilla you met,
very politely, if he would please direct you to the
nearest circulating library.”</p>
<p class='c009'>But Ruth refused to be teased about her
hobby, so the girls desisted. She loved books,
however, and would have walked all the way to
Eastport in order to get a fresh one. So with
her rimless eyeglasses planted firmly on the
bridge of her nose, the nose that turned up ever
so little at the world in anxious inquiry, she
smiled placidly at Polly, and hugged a new volume
to her heart every time she went over the
bay.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’re all ready enough to listen while I
read aloud, just the same,” she told them, when
they all settled themselves out on the porch, and
called for the after-dinner reading. No one
contradicted her. Polly was over in her favorite
hammock at the southwesterly corner, her lap
full of shells, and some sandpaper, with which
she was trying to polish their outer side. Sue,
Isabel, and Crullers leaned against the railing,
so that their hair would hang over and dry in
the sunlight. Only two of the girls wore caps
when in bathing, and Aunty Welcome declared
that their hair would be fairly pickled before they
reached home.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s ‘Treasure Island’ this time, girls,” Ruth
announced.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Smugglers’ Cove,” murmured Sue, mischievously.
“See what an effect it had on her, oh,
dear; oh, dear.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth uttered a sudden exclamation, and
slipped into the house.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There was another parcel in our mail box
to-day,” she said, as she came back. “I forgot
to give it to you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“This makes the fourth,” Polly declared, taking
it from her, and handling it gingerly. “And
they all come from Smugglers’ Cove. The first
one had new magazines in it, and some patent
fish hooks that Sue ran off with, and we haven’t
seen since.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The second was chocolate mints.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, my, weren’t they good?” Crullers added.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Third, a full and complete Manual on
Conchology and Sea-life, suitable for young persons
marooned on an isle,” concluded Polly, returning
with a pair of scissors to cut the twine.
“I wonder what this is?”</p>
<p class='c009'>It was addressed, as the other parcels had been,
simply to “The Yacht Club, Lost Island, Eagle
Bay, Maine.” Polly opened it while the rest
stood around. One wrapping after another was
removed, and finally a box appeared. When
this was opened, there lay a microscope, a fine
one, with several different removable lenses for
observing specimens.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, what a darling, tasty old pirate he is,”
exclaimed Polly, joyously. “He seems to know
all our needs. We’ll have to send something to
him in return, girls.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’ll make him a shell portìere to hang in front
of his cave,” said Kate, soberly. Scarcely had
she spoken when a strange and unusual sound
broke the stillness of the bay.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That sounds like a motor boat,” Polly said,
instantly. “Maybe it’s the one from the <i>Hippocampus</i>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It was surely a motor boat, but not the bright-railed,
mahogany-trimmed one from the <i>Hippocampus</i>.
This was white, with a high, pointed
prow, a cabin, and a cockpit similar to Nancy’s
knockabout. But there the resemblance ended.
The mast had been removed, and a small gasoline
engine provided the power.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I can see the name on the prow,” called Ted
presently. “It’s the <i>Natica</i>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Natica means a sea snail,” Ruth explained,
with absent-minded reversion to lessons, but
Polly dropped her shells helter-skelter into the
hammock, and rose.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know who it is, girls,” she cried. “That’s
our smuggler!”</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXIV' class='c006'>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>“MR. SMITH OF SMUGGLERS’ COVE”</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>“Ship, ahoy!” called out the lone occupant
of the boat, as he waved his hand to them, and
came alongside the landing. The girls saw at
once that he was an elderly man, with a square-cut,
iron-gray beard that curled upward at its
edges, and a moustache. He wore a white
sweater and linen trousers, and that was as far
as their observation went at first sight.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Won’t you come ashore?” called Polly, with
cheery hospitality, as she waved back to him.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, Polly, be careful,” warned Kate.
“You don’t know whether he’s Captain Kidd, or
Neptune in disguise, or Andrew Carnegie. He
really looks like all three.” But Polly disregarded
the warning. She ran down the steps,
and met the stranger half-way up the little boardwalk
from the landing, after he had moored his
boat.</p>
<p class='c009'>“He has something under his arm, girls,” Sue
whispered. “Looks like a bottle—no, it’s our
marmalade jar, all washed up nice and clean.
Isn’t he the tidy old smuggler, though?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Good afternoon, young ladies.” As the
stranger greeted them, he raised his cap with a
gesture that even the Admiral would have approved
of. “I have come to return the marmalade
jar, and to thank you for the treat. It
was the finest I ever ate.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You may have more of it if you like,” offered
Polly, instantly, with all her Virginia grace and
hospitality to the fore. “We have plenty of it
on hand. And you need not have brought back
the jar.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But I wanted to, I wanted to.” He smiled
around at them through his rimless eyeglasses,
with the friendliest interest. “It gave me a good
excuse for calling. I’ve been wanting to come
ever since I saw the first smoke rise from your
chimney.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Did you think that perhaps we were pirates
too?” laughed Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>This “unfortunate remark,” as Isabel called
it later, required explanation, and the girls were
only too ready to tell all their suspicions about
the Cove, and its unknown Robinson Crusoe.
He listened to them with the keenest amusement,
his dark eyes twinkling under their “pent-house
lids,” as Ruth called the bushy gray eyebrows.</p>
<p class='c009'>“So you considered me a pirate or a smuggler,
did you?” He laughed richly over the idea, but
Polly shook her head.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not exactly. We thought you might be.
We almost hoped you might be, so we could find
chests of gold in that cave. You see, nobody
around here knows anything about you, or where
you came from, or when you came.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I came up from the South in a motor boat
along the shore,” he replied promptly, almost
happily. “And a rousing good time I had too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But where were you all the time we were on
the island, and Crullers nearly was drowned when
she got in the way of the <i>Portland</i>?” Polly
leaned forward, her chin on her hand, as she
always did when she was perplexed.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I had gone away from the island for the
day,” he explained. “Up to Pautipaug Beach.
It is about twelve miles along the coast towards
Bar Harbor.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well,” sighed Polly, “we’ve called you the
Mystery, and it certainly suits you, for nobody
knows even your name.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s just what I wanted,” he answered,
comfortably. “That’s why I came here.” He
leaned back in the most comfortable chair the
club boasted, and piled cushions behind him,
while Ted slipped away to tell Aunty Welcome
of the guest of honor. “I’ve rented Smugglers’
Cove for the summer for research, yes, that’s a
good word, very explanatory and truthful, for
research. And—well, that’s all there is to it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>There was a dead silence, while each of the
girls regarded the mystery from her own point
of view. Nobody questions a guest, not around
Queen’s Landing, Virginia, not even when he
is shrouded in mystery, so they gave it up.
But Polly had a brilliant strategic plan occur
to her. She would introduce all of the girls,
gracefully, easily. Then he would have to introduce
himself to them in return. It was simple.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We must introduce ourselves to you, so you
can tell one from the other,” she said. “This is
Ruth Brooks. Sometimes we call her Grandma.
She is our instructress in conchology, and also
librarian, and acts as ballast for the entire establishment.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, stop using such big words,” laughed
Ted. “Polly loves big words. She told me once
that Napoleon and the Admiral always used
them, so she was going to.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly went on merrily. “This is Isabel
Moore, our mirror of fashion, Lady Vanitas.
She should have been Solomon’s favorite daughter
and shared his raiment. Kate, look around
this way please, because your Greek profile is
your strongest point. It is pure Greek, isn’t it?”
she appealed to their caller, and he nodded delightedly.
“Miss Julian is our club chaperon,
and also the ship’s husband for the entire fleet,
and also the Imperial Keeper of the Memory
Log. If it were not for her and for Isabel, the
rest of us would be just Girl Fridays on a desert
isle. Jane Daphne Adams, where art thou?”
Crullers rose from a hammock, her hair tousled
like a Scotch terrier’s. “Crullers, have you been
asleep?” Polly demanded, and Crullers nodded
drowsily. The other girls laughed mischievously.
It was just like Crullers to fall sound
asleep at an important time. But Polly went on
just the same. “This is Crullers, or Jane
Daphne Adams, who fell overboard—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And woke to find herself famous, while they
pumped out the salt water,” put in Sue, gravely.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There are two more, Mr. Smuggler Man,”
laughed Polly, “but I daren’t present them.
Their names are Ted and Sue, and one is just
as bad as the other.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly Page!” came an indignant gasp from
the living-room, where Ted had retreated to help
Aunty arrange the tea-tray daintily. “Just
you wait till I come out there.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am delighted to meet you all,” the Unknown
said heartily. “I am certain this is the most
unique club roster in the world. But you
haven’t introduced yourself.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let me, please,” Ted’s curly red hair showed
at the open window. “Miss Polly Page, of
Glenwood, Queen’s Landing, Virginia; Commodore
of the Polly Page Yacht Club, Founder
of the Hungry Six, Volunteer Life Saver of
Eagle Bay—let’s see, anything else, girls?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Custodian of the Club Chafing Dish,” Sue
added.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, stop, please, girls; I’ll be good, truly,”
pleaded the Commodore, flushing and laughing
at the way they had turned the tables on her.
All her strategy had not resulted in the stranger’s
revealing his name.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am sure we shall be the best of neighbors
the rest of the summer.” The stranger smiled
at the circle of eager, girlish faces around him.
“If you will promise to keep me supplied with
Virginia marmalade, put up by Aunty Welcome,
as you call her, I will promise you a steady
output of new magazines and books. Is it a
bargain?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It is,” said the girls, resolutely, and then they
remembered the mysterious parcels that Ruth
had brought back from Eastport, and thanked
him for their contents. But suddenly Crullers
asked, in a gentle, interested way, the one question
they had all avoided.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What’s your name?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Smith,” replied the stranger, very simply,
then he smiled around at them again in his whimsical,
almost mischievous fashion, for there was
frank disappointment on their faces. “There
are a great many members of our family. I
should have said Bold Daniel, or Blackbeard,
should I not?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, we did rather hope you might turn out
to be at least a smuggler,” Polly said, as she
took the tea-tray from Ted, and set it down before
their guest on a chair, for tea-tables existed
not on Lost Island. “Won’t you try some of
Aunty Welcome’s famous hermits, and sponge
cake, and marmalade, and a cup of tea?”</p>
<p class='c009'>For over an hour they entertained Mr. Smith
of Smugglers’ Cove. He sat there with them
on the porch till the sun went down, chatting
happily, entertaining them with tales of adventure
all over the world, and droll anecdotes that
covered forty years of public life. He seemed
to the girls, that first day, to be the most astonishing
traveler they had ever met. He had served
in many campaigns. He could tell them a story
of the Civil War, and jump down to Chili with
another tale about when he helped put through
the first railroad that crossed the old trails of
the Incas. Then before they could catch their
breath, he was describing Egypt when the Suez
Canal was being built, how one night he had
watched the funeral of a little English baby,
the child of one of the chief engineers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There was no coffin for it, no procession,
nothing but the young, fair-haired English girl-mother
standing on the shore, and a tall, bare-legged
Arab, carrying the little form in his arms
wrapped in the British flag, as he crossed over
with the consul to the ‘Isle of the Sleepers,’ as
the Arabs called their cemetery.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, tell us some more,” pleaded Ruth and
the rest, as he paused.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let me see,” he would lean back his head,
and think of something else, his eyes twinkling
with the pleasure of it all. “Did I tell you about
the time I took tea with the king of Masailand
in West Africa? Didn’t I? And he gave me
a sack of purest ivory for a paper of pins?”</p>
<p class='c009'>So he talked on, until the last rim of the sun
dipped behind the purple hills in the west, and
he started up.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Bless my heart and soul, I must be going,”
he exclaimed. “I expect the pirates to-night.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls laughed, and Polly sighed contentedly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’ve traveled everywhere, haven’t you?”
she asked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not quite.” He smiled down at her from
behind his thick curly beard. “I have yet to see
Glenwood, Queen’s Landing, Virginia.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And we’d just love to have you see it too,”
responded Polly with quick southern warmth.
“It’s the dearest spot of all, we think.”</p>
<p class='c009'>After the motor boat had passed from sight
around the Knob, the girls looked at one another
in perplexity.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, who on earth can he be?” asked Ruth.
“For he must be somebody special, or he never
would have traveled all over the world, in every
place where interesting things have happened for
years and years. I wonder who he is.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just Mr. Smith,” said Polly, shaking her
head. “But I think he is a mystery, girls.
We’ll ask the Captain about him.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“There’s one thing certain,” Kate added.
“He’s a good neighbor to have handy.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Before a week had passed, even Aunty Welcome
agreed with the verdict. Mr. Smith of
Smugglers’ Cove was surely a desirable neighbor.
Books and magazines found their way to
the house, as well as fishing tackle that made
Tom’s devices look antiquated. Several times
he presented the girls with a fine catch of mackerel
that was served in Welcome’s best Southern
style, and Mr. Smith always stayed to partake
of the feast.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I met your grandfather, the Rear-Admiral,
Miss Polly, a few years ago, at a Naval banquet,”
he said one day, “and do you know, the
President paid us each a compliment. He said
the Rear-Admiral was the handsomest man present,
and that I was the most necessary to the
nation. And the Admiral and I confided to
each other later that we would willingly exchange
places.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, Polly, did you hear what he said to-day?”
Ruth asked in a puzzled tone, after he had
gone. “Who can he be? The most necessary
to the nation.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly shook her head.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I like him
just as he is. If he should turn out to be somebody
very, very famous, he wouldn’t seem to
belong to us at all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Orienta Club opened its season with a
“hop” for the Juniors, and a reception for the
older members, and an invitation found its way
to Lost Island.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Miss Calvert would say we should not go unless
we were chaperoned, Polly,” Kate said,
doubtfully.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You are our chaperon. You are nearly
nineteen, dignified and responsible. We don’t
need any other.” And Polly went serenely
along with her preparations.</p>
<p class='c009'>“This is partly a business affair,” she explained.
“In outdoor sports strict rules all
tumble down, I mean social rules. We’re just
the members of one yacht club accepting the hospitality
of another club. Ruth, don’t pull your
hair back so tight. It makes your eyebrows look
like a Japanese girl’s on a fan. Fluff it all out
at the sides. Here, I will.”</p>
<p class='c009'>And Ruth obediently sat down, while Polly’s
deft fingers took all the primness and straight
lines out of her hair.</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom had promised to drive them over to the
club house in the Captain’s old-fashioned carry-all.
He came along the shore road about seven,
and sent up a long “Ahoy!” across the sand.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wish Nancy could go, too,” Sue exclaimed,
suddenly. “She’d love to.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, Sue, why couldn’t you have thought of
it before the last minute,” Polly laughed. She
stood still for a minute, and then said in the tone
of decision all the girls had learned to know,
“Why, of course Nancy can go along with us.
She’s a member of our club. Not a resident
member, but nevertheless she is a member, and
our ‘coach’ in all nautical knowledge.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Would your mother let her go, Tom?” asked
Kate, practically. Tom grinned happily, and
hitched his one suspender up higher.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sure she would,” he answered. “And
Nancy’s got a best dress too. It’s white with
little blue flowers on it, awful pretty.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Very sweet and fresh Nancy looked in that
blue and white sprigged muslin, when she stood
in the doorway of the Carey cottage and kissed
her mother good-by, while the girls waited
for her. It was her very first real “party,” as
she said, and her cheeks were rosy with excitement,
and her blue eyes shining. Every year
she had gone over to the Orienta with Tom to
stand down on the shore and look at the gayly-lighted
verandas and happy throng, had watched
the other children dancing and playing games,
and had longed to join them.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I can’t dance though, Polly,” she said now,
as they approached the big white club house with
its verandas all hung with Japanese lanterns and
festoons of real flowers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, yes, you can, too,” Polly assured her.
“You can dance a reel. Even a telegraph pole
could dance a reel, Nancy. And we girls will
dance with you. That’s the way we used to do
at Miss Calvert’s.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Dorothy and Bess were on the lookout for
them, and came down to meet them.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’re so glad you’ve come,” they cried, happily.
“Because we’ve got a real guest of honor
from Washington. He’s a friend of papa’s, and
he’s the greatest naturalist in the country. Papa
calls him the citizen of the world, for he loves
all the world, and has been over it ever so many
times. Papa says he holds it right in his hand,
and pats it. Isn’t that funny?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The greatest naturalist in America,” Kate
repeated. “From Washington?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Smith!” exclaimed Ruth, suddenly, “Smith!”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Penryhn Smith,” added Polly, while the
Vaughan girls looked at them with curiosity
fairly bubbling out of their lips.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Why? Do you all know him already?” asked
Bess.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, we all know him well,” laughed Polly.
“Come and see.”</p>
<p class='c009'>They hurried up the broad flight of steps leading
to the main floor of the club-house. Ruth
reached over, and squeezed Polly’s hand. She
was fairly treading on air. To think that their
smuggler should have turned out to be Dr. Penryhn
Smith of the Institute at Washington.
Naturalist he was, yes, but more than that, they
knew. Statesman, explorer, and most of all,
perhaps, the Admiral had told them, he was a
lover of all mankind, a lover of life in all its
forms. He was the type of man who could hold
a city audience entranced at a lecture, then turn
and kneel beside a little child to show it the miracle
of being in the wild flower it had just picked.
Polly knew how dearly the Admiral valued his
friendship, how Miss Calvert had taught them
to revere his name, and she felt doubly happy
over this disclosure of the Smuggler’s identity.</p>
<p class='c009'>The club house seemed to be filled with guests
that night. Juniors, and fathers and mothers of
Juniors, and the people from the hotel and the
summer cottages who had been invited. The
girls were swept into the middle of it all before
they could fairly catch their breath. And it
seemed to them as if everywhere they caught the
murmur, “Doctor Smith!”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We might have known there was more to it
than Smith,” whispered Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly said nothing, but she was doing a lot of
thinking, and finally when she saw Mrs. Vaughan
and the Commodore standing at the head of the
long room, there was the smuggler himself beside
them, clad in white flannels, and his eyes
twinkling merrily, as he caught sight of the
eight white-clad girls with Dorothy and Bess.</p>
<p class='c009'>Mrs. Vaughan started to present them kindly,
one by one, to the guest of honor, but Dr. Smith
laughed and explained.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m afraid, Mrs. Vaughan, that you are too
late with your kind offices. These young ladies
have been close neighbors of mine, and have been
very good to me.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But I don’t think I understand, Doctor,” said
Mrs. Vaughan; “I thought you only arrived from
Pautipaug Beach to-day.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I did, I did,” answered the Doctor, happily.
“I came from down the shore in the <i>Natica</i> at
five-thirty, to be exact, from the hotel at Pautipaug,
but I stopped off at my secret hiding-place.
You didn’t know I had one, did you,
Mrs. Vaughan? Don’t tell the Commodore, for
he still believes in me. Nobody knows about it
except these young ladies and Captain Carey.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Does the Captain know?” exclaimed Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes. It was through him I rented Smugglers’
Island for the summer. I can make the
trip back and forth in the <i>Natica</i> and study in
peace there. I tried to keep under cover but
Miss Polly, here, ferreted me out, and has kept
me alive since on orange marmalade.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“If we had suspected for one minute that you
were famous, we wouldn’t have given you a bit,”
said Polly severely. “I think you owe the whole
club an apology.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am asking it now,” the Doctor returned.
“Mrs. Vaughan, you see how they order me
around? If I had been a pirate or a smuggler,
they would have respected me.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I think they will forgive you, Doctor,”
said Mrs. Vaughan, as she smiled around at the
happy, girlish faces surrounding the Doctor.
“In fact, we shall all have to, for it is a joke
on little Eagle Bay. I was reading only last
week, in a New York paper, that the eminent
naturalist, Dr. Penrhyn Smith, had vanished as
usual, and it was thought he had slipped south
on a trip through the Amazonian wilderness.
And all the while you were right here on Smugglers’
Island.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But quite near the Amazonian wilderness
just the same,” the Doctor added, teasingly.
“They are all girl warriors over on the Knob,
Mrs. Vaughan. You don’t know them as I do.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Why did you go there to live?” asked Crullers,
in her point-blank way.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s a state secret,” replied the Doctor,
gravely. “I am on the trail of a certain polypus,
and if I told you all about it, you’d hunt after
it yourself, and you might possibly find it, and
take all the credit away from me.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What were those queer tracks in the sand
around the mouth of the cave?” asked Kate.
“Like a three-legged crane. We saw them the
day we were at the Cove.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Doctor smiled.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I carry a camera with me,” he said, amusedly.
“Those were the tracks of the tripod, a rare beast
in captivity.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And does the cave really go clear through the
island to the castle?” asked Ruth, eagerly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It does. If you will come over, you may go
through it. But you won’t find any treasure or
loot there. Plenty of old barrels, and boxes,
but nothing in them. The pirates must have
made a clean sweep that last night.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isn’t he splendid?” exclaimed Kate, as they
gave place to all the people who were waiting
to be presented.</p>
<p class='c009'>“And his flannels are so becoming,” added
Isabel, thoughtfully. “Do you know, girls, I
have found out something awfully queer. All
of the really ‘great’ people I ever met are much
simpler and pleasanter and more natural, than
the little, everyday people who fuss around,
and snub each other, and just live and grow fat
on trouble. Isn’t that so, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, there are ‘deceptions’ to every rule, you
know Aunty Welcome says,” laughed Polly. “I
wouldn’t say positively, but I do think that the
Doctor is a darling.”</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXV' class='c006'>CHAPTER XV</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>THE PEARL FEST</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>The following day was Sunday, the fourth
they had spent on Lost Island. The nearest
church was two and a half miles around the bay
shore road, at Eastport, but services were held
in the open air stadium in the pine grove back
of the hotel. The cottagers and shore people
attended here, and the girls had been glad to go
also. They tried to persuade Aunty Welcome
to accompany them, but she steadfastly refused
to budge along that bay shore road until she left
for good.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’se hyar, and I knows I’se hyar, and I ain’t
a-going to trust myself to any quagmires and
pitfalls along any ole shore road till I has to,”
she declared.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let’s stop for the Captain and the rest,”
Polly said, as they came to the quiet cottage at
Fair Havens, but it was locked, so they went on.
The Captain usually took the big carry-all and
drove over to the village church. There he could
sit, and look out of the window beside his pew,
straight into the little graveyard, where rows
and rows of Carey headstones bade him be of
good cheer, for the harbor was sure, and the
Pilot faithful to His promise.</p>
<p class='c009'>But the girls loved the open air service up in
the pines. The stadium had been erected for
lectures and Chautauqua meetings during the
summer months, and was beautifully situated on
Lookout Hill. On one side it commanded a fine
view over the Sickle, clear out to where the old
Atlantic rolled in in long, dark green combers.
Behind it were climbing aisles of eternal green,
depths of sweet-scented thicket, patches of wild
flowers, and above all the towering pines, with
their incessant murmur as though they were answering
their big brother, the sea.</p>
<p class='c009'>The stadium was a great wooden amphitheater,
built roughly but strongly, and roofed to
protect its audiences against sudden summer
showers. The second Sunday the girls had
gone, there had been a thunder storm, and it
had seemed so strange to watch the trees lashed
and torn by the tempest, while they sat under
cover safe as could be.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I never was so near a storm, and yet out of
it,” Sue had declared. “Why, you could have
reached out, and patted the wind on the back,
and it couldn’t have hurt you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>After service they walked slowly down the
winding, rustic walk that led to the shore.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It seems to me, girls, that the service sounds
ever so much more solemn here than it does in a
church,” Isabel was saying. “It seems so much
nearer heaven here in the woods.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But it’s not, really,” Kate put in, briskly.
“That’s only an idea that people have, and I
think it’s wrong. Supposing God dwelt only
in the high places, what would become of those
who sit in darkness, and the shadow of death?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly was looking out to sea, her brown eyes
thoughtful, and a bit sad. She didn’t know why
she felt sad, but she did, and only the Captain
seemed to understand why. He had said once
over at the island that a barometer probably
had no idea what ailed it, but it ailed just
the same, and Polly’s temperament was just
as volatile.</p>
<p class='c009'>“The other day,” she said, musingly, “the
Captain said he had been tramping the beach one
awful night in a thunderstorm, when he was first
on coast duty, and he felt troubled about all the
boats that were in peril. Then all at once he
thought of those words, ‘He maketh His angels
spirits, and His ministers a flame of fire.’ And
he felt strengthened all at once, so he wasn’t
afraid any more.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How do you do, girls?” called Mrs. Vaughan’s
pleasant voice behind them, and they turned
to find her and the Doctor with Dorothy and
Bess. The Doctor was to take dinner at the
hotel with the Commodore’s family, but they all
walked back through the pine grove together
to the shore road.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Wasn’t the sermon nice?” asked Bess, happily.
“I love that parable about the merchant
who sought pearls.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Doctor nodded his head.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That simile is one of the finest in the Bible,”
he responded. “I had the good fortune to attend
the pearl harvest at Ceylon twice, and it sets one
thinking, it certainly sets one thinking.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, tell us about it, please, Doctor?” pleaded
Polly, slipping her hand on his arm. “I’ve been
wondering about it ever since we left the
stadium. Are there any pearls around here?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Doctor was not a Yankee, but he usually
answered one question by asking another, in
Yankee fashion.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What are you all going to do this afternoon?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Rest, and write letters home, and talk.
Crullers and Aunty Welcome will take long
naps. Sue and Ted will get out their book of
class songs, and sing and play all of them over
five times running. Isabel will read a book, and
Ruth and I will write letters.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s all right; just as long as you had not
planned to go sailing. About four, Dorothy
and Bess and I will come over in the <i>Natica</i>
and talk to you about pearls. I have some unset
ones I will show you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is it true that they lose their luster, and people
put them back into the sea to regain it?”
Kate inquired.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, people do it, but I don’t know whether
it helps them any. A pearl merchant will tell
you it is better to peel a pearl, but that is not so
romantic, is it? There was one Empress, you
know, who sent her casket of pearls every year
to be immersed in the sea. Now, don’t ask any
more questions until this afternoon, then we’ll
hold a talk <i>fest</i>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, a pearl <i>fest</i>,” Polly suggested. “And
we’ll have a driftwood fire on the beach after
dark, and toast marshmallows, and eat hermits.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Will you tell me what hermits are?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I had rather leave that to Aunty Welcome,
for she makes them, you know,” laughed Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>They caught up with the carry-all on their way
back, and walked beside it on the path next the
road. The Captain looked different without his
uniform, all dressed in a suit of sober black, but
he was as rosy and as twinkly-eyed as ever, and
he looked over the girls with a feeling of pride.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’re getting to be a credit to the sou’west
shore,” he told them. “Trig and taut as a fleet
of clipper-built coasters, be’ant they, mother?
But you keep away from the Point, now mind.
There’s a reef out there that at low tide would
rip up a keel like a submarine mine hitting a Russian
man-o’-war. And any sort of a west gale
would blow you straight out on it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“But there aren’t any gales,” said Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not yet, but wait a bit. We’ll be into
August shortly, and then, I tell you, look out.
There’s some quick fellows come a’racing out of
the sou’west that would take your heads off.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wish we could get out into the open sea,
though, before we go home, Captain Carey,” said
Polly, wistfully. “We’re only shore sailors.
Couldn’t we go out around the Point some fair
day, and reach the open?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Captain put his head a bit on one side, and
trailed the tasseled end of the whip between the
colt’s ears. Then he shook his head.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’d better not. That’s the safest way. If
you want a good sail outside the harbor, I’ll take
you for one on a top master, forty foot long,
yes, I will. Billy Clewen, the station keeper, has
one, and we’ll sail clear out to Tarker’s Light.
How’s that?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Beautiful,” the girls cried, and Polly added,
“Don’t you forget, now.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Father never forgets anything,” Mrs. Carey
spoke up, contentedly, “excepting his place in
the hymn-book, and in the Bible reading for each
Sunday.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Then they all had a good laugh at the Captain,
who was famous for losing his place, and would
be far ahead or far behind when the congregation
were just moving along easily.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Avast there, where are you bound?” he would
whisper to Nancy, and nudge her to show him
the right place.</p>
<p class='c009'>“How’s an old fellow to know where they’re
going to bring up next?” he asked, indignantly.
“They never hold true to their course,
and they are tacking before I know it, and off
they go like a herring from a hook.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I thought they caught herring in nets,” said
Crullers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They do,” agreed the Captain, heartily.
“And that’s why you can’t make one stay on a
hook. They’re the most notional fish I ever saw.
I’ve had one get on a hook, and fairly wink me
in the eye, and wiggle off again.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Benjy Carey!” exclaimed Mrs. Carey, “and
you a-coming direct from meeting to tell a yarn
like that!”</p>
<p class='c009'>But the Captain only laughed until he
coughed, and Nancy had to pat him on the back.</p>
<p class='c009'>That afternoon the yacht club entertained
in its own, particular fashion. Nancy came over,
but Tom went down to the station with his father.
Some day he meant to go on duty there too. It
was one of the Captain’s boasts that three generations
of Careys had patrolled that strip of
rock-strewn coast, “and there’s another one in
the making,” he always added; so Tom would
square his shoulders and try to look like one of
the crew.</p>
<p class='c009'>The doctor dined at the hotel that day with
Commodore Vaughan and his family, and it was
late afternoon before the girls caught sight of
the white motor boat cutting its way across the
sparkling waters of the sunlit bay. The broad
veranda looked very cool and restful that afternoon.
Polly and Kate had spread all the available
mats and had carried out the round table
from the sitting-room, dropping new magazines
over it invitingly, with a pitcher of fruit lemonade
and a plate of hermits to nibble on.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hermits, do you call these?” asked Bess, as
she bit into her third one. “I never heard of
them, but they’re just dandy.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, there are hermits and hermits,” Polly
explained. “But Aunty Welcome’s are the best
we’ve ever had, much better than Annie May’s
at the Hall. How do you make them, Aunty?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Welcome paused in the kitchen doorway, her
hands on her broad hips, her brown eyes fairly
shining with delight at their appreciation of her
cooking.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I takes some flour, and den I takes some
’lasses, and it has to be good ’lasses. None ob
dis syrupy trash dat just drizzles down. I want
’lasses you can hyar go kerflop when it hits de
dish; yas, I do.” She shook all over with
laughter. “Den I takes some cream, den I takes
some spices, and some brown sugar, and some
eggs, and I mixes ’em up good. Den I jes’ puts
in all de ’vailable fruit I got lying ’round, raisins,
and currants, and citron, and figs, and dates,
and nuts, any ole thing. And den I bakes ’em.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And we eat ’em,” concluded Sue, forcibly.</p>
<p class='c009'>Even the doctor shook with laughter over the
recipe.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But I’m afraid if we tried to make some,
Aunty, we’d make a failure of it,” he said.
“And they are certainly fine. Please may I
have some marmalade with mine?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now tell about the pearl harvest,” prompted
Ruth, when they were all fairly settled, and the
supply of hermits had diminished somewhat.
“What is it like?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How often have you been there?” added Kate.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Twice. Last year and once when I was a
youngster just out of college, and bent on globe-trotting.
Ceylon, you know, is the great pearl
market of the world, and yet the season of the
catch lasts only six weeks. But during those
six weeks, instead of a long, jungle-fringed
beach, there rise the tents and houses of the pearl
seekers, like a city of magic. Every morning
you can see the long boats go out, hundreds of
them, and each carrying from sixty to seventy
men.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Divers?” asked Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Not all. Some are rowers, and some take
care of the catch as the divers bring it up. They
are all natives, and trained to the work. When
they dive, all they carry down with them is their
basket and a small tortoise shell clip that holds
their nostrils closed.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t they have to wear diving suits?” asked
Ted.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No. They can stay under water longer than
any human beings I have ever seen. And after
the catch of the day is brought in, it is put up at
auction, and then there is excitement enough to
satisfy anyone. I have often wondered why
some artist has never put the scene of the pearl
harvest on canvas;” the doctor’s eyes were half
closed, as if he could recall it perfectly even then.
“I have seen as many as five million oysters piled
there, waiting to be sold, and to the crowd it is
one great lottery. Any shell in the lot may contain
a pearl worth thousands. So they scramble,
and push to get up close to the auctioneer, and
even the children will beg you for pennies so that
they may buy a handful of the shells and have the
fun of opening them. Last year while I stood
there, a little old man in front of me, with a
crutch, turned and begged me to lift him up so
the auctioneer would be sure to see him. He was
a Burmah merchant and told me afterwards he
was sent every year to buy for the native princes.
Behind me was a tall, quiet Persian. They told
me he had found a pearl once years before that
brought him over seventy thousand dollars. It
was a pink one, and flawless. And he had come
every year since and bid on every day’s catch in
the hope of finding its mate.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I’d love to be there,” cried Polly her
eyes sparkling with excitement. “And do they
open them right in front of you so you can see
them find the pearls?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Some do. And when a pearl of great price
is found, even to-day the bidding jumps like
magic over that catch the same as in the old days
of the parable. The merchants will still go and
sell all they have to buy the one pearl if they
can get it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wonder why it is everybody loves pearls so,”
said Ruth thoughtfully. “I do myself, better
than diamonds, or any of the colored stones.
They seem different, almost as if they had life.
Were they ever alive inside the shells, Doctor
Smith?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let me see,” mused the doctor. “Are pearls
alive? I’ve wondered that myself. The scientists
tell us, though, that a pearl is a disease of
the oyster, and others say it is only a grain of
sand that has slipped inside the shell and irritates
the mollusc, so it wraps it about with a secretion
of its own that hardens and, after a while, you
have the pearl. The Chinese open oyster shells
and slip inside tiny images of Buddha, and the
oyster covers them with mother-of-pearl.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, don’t you know how we studied
last year about the Malays, and their pearl
legend?” exclaimed Ted, eagerly. “They say
at the full of the moon the pearl oyster rises to
the surface of the water and opens its shell, and
a dew drop falls into it, and is crystallized. And
they say the pearl is colored by the weather at
the time it was born. If the night is clear, the
pearl is perfect, and if it is cloudy, the pearl will
be opalescent and dim, and if there’s a flash of
lightning, the shell shuts up instantly and the
pearl will be dwarfed.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It makes me think of the Polynesian way of
catching pearls,” said the doctor. “They send
out a long boat at sunrise, a canoe, with some old
tribesman playing a weird, plaintive melody on
a sort of flute, to scare away evil spirits. Young
girls are chosen to dive for the shells, generally
the fairest and purest in the village and they
poise themselves in the prow of the canoe and
dive just as the sun rises.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I shall try it to-morrow morning,” said Polly
promptly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Ted
and Sue shall play on their mandolins for me,
and I will dive for pearls.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And you dare to call me vain,” teased Isabel.
“I guess if anyone is to dive, I will.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let’s all dive,” suggested Kate, the peacemaker,
laughing. “Tell us some more, please,
doctor, and don’t mind these giddy creatures.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth leaned forward, reflectively, her eyes
dreamy and full of thought.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly,” she said, “didn’t Mary Stuart love
pearls? Didn’t she always carry a rosary of
pearls with her, and didn’t we read some place
that it was found clasped in her hands after she
was killed?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here, child, stop talking about such gloomy
things,” Ted interposed, briskly, lifting the tall
pitcher of fruit lemonade. “May I pour you
another glass, doctor? It’s delicious. Polly
dissolved some pearl dust in it, and dreamed she
was Cleopatra.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I never heard sech talk in all my born days,
doctah, I never did,” exclaimed Aunty Welcome,
putting her head out rebukingly. “Ain’t dey a
lot ob crazy creeturs, sah?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Full of the joy of life, Welcome, full of the
springtime,” replied the doctor, happily. “Let
them alone. I can stand it. Give me some
more pearl dust elixir, Miss Edwina.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Pearls stand for tears, really and truly,” said
Dorothy, seriously. “I’ve always heard that.
The night before the king was killed, Marguerite
of Valois dreamed all her diamonds had turned
to pearls, our history teacher told us.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Stop it,” Ted insisted. “Can’t you see how
melancholius-like Polly and Ruth are looking?
I shall be afraid, pretty soon, to touch a pearl
with a ten-foot pole, even if I find one in my
oyster stew.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t mind them, doctor,” said Polly, cheerfully.
“The pearl is my birthstone, and I love
it dearly, and you won’t find me weeping often.
See, it’s past sundown now. We’re going to
set fire to that pile of driftwood down on the
beach, and toast marshmallows around it, while
the glee club holds forth.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just one minute,” called the doctor, as they
rose. “I want you to look at this.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls gathered around his chair, as he drew
a tiny packet from his pocket, wrapped in tissue
paper, and unfolding it disclosed several unset
pearls, large as peas, and rarely beautiful.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you carry them with you like that?” asked
Kate.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just like that,” replied the doctor, blithely,
and he let them roll about in the palm of his
hand. “I bought them at the pearl harvest, and
I like to have them close to me. They say that
Napoleon, when he sat and dreamed of the conquest
of the world, loved to feel unset pearls
slip through his fingers. So, why not I?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, they are lovely!” Polly touched them
lingeringly. “Isn’t it too bad that such things
should be shut up in a shell at the bottom of the
ocean?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth was calling to them to hurry, for the
marshmallows were waiting to be cooked, and
the fire was started, and as they walked down to
the beach the doctor quoted:</p>
<div class='lg-container-l c012'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“‘Full many a gem of purest ray serene, the dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear,</div>
<div class='line'>Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air.’”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“I think those pearls in your pocket are just
as hidden and wasted, doctor,” said Sue, deliberately,
“as if they were in a dark, unfathomed
cave.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you? Well, it was kind of you not to
say as if they were cast before swine,” laughed
the doctor.</p>
<p class='c009'>“One of Sue’s charms is her engaging frankness,”
put in Kate.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I forgive her, for it’s in a good cause. And
some day, if I find anyone who will love and
cherish them more than I do, I may give up
one.”</p>
<div id='i266' class='figcenter id004'>
<img src='images/illus-266.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
<div class='ic001'>
<p><span class='sc'>“First Batch of Marshmallows Ready!” Called Ruth</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“First batch of marshmallows ready,” called
Ruth, and the pearl <i>fest</i> was over.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXVI' class='c006'>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>THE CAPTAIN’S PARTY</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>“Do you girls realize that it is the first week
in August?”</p>
<p class='c009'>It was about a week after the doctor’s talk, and
they had just come up to the porch after a dip
in the bay.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let’s stay down in the sand, and dry off,”
Ted suggested. “It’s early yet.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So down they trailed again, and sat on the
sand. One special charm of belonging to this
yacht club was that you could do just what you
wanted when you wanted. As Polly said, it took
all the fun out of anything when you had to wait
for it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Poor old King Solomon,” she would say, “I
don’t know what it was he longed for, but I am
sure he never got it, because he said so mournfully,
‘Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.’
And I know just how he felt when he said it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I ought to mend my jacket,” said Sue, easily.
“But there’s plenty of time.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s what Sue always says,” Kate declared.
“I think her motto and Ted’s should be ‘There’s
plenty of time.’”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, there isn’t,” Polly remarked, as she sat
down on a sand dune, and rested her chin on her
hands, with her hair falling around her like a
meditative mermaid. “The regatta is the fifteenth,
and we’ve got to have our boats all spick
and span for the race.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’re not really going to race for the Junior
cup, are you, Polly?” Isabel’s tone was very
discouraging.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am.” Polly smiled at the big white club
house across the bay quite as if she expected it
to nod back at her. “The <i>Tidy Jane</i> is just as
fine a catboat as there is on the bay, and so are
all our boats. Nancy’s going to race the <i>Pirate</i>,
Tom’s knockabout, and the other afternoon
when we sailed to the inlet and back, I had
the best of her all the way. Of course I
shall race.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is there a prize?” asked Crullers, the practical.
The girls all broke into a peal of laughter,
and Ruth declared that Crullers never could see
anything in empty glory. There had to be a
tangible goal for her to exert herself.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There’s a silver cup for the big boats to race
for,” Polly replied. “Commodore Vaughan’s
sloop, <i>Adventure</i>, has held it for sixty-footers
for three years, they say. And there’s a smaller
cup for twenty-footers and under. We’d come
under that head.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What will you use it for, Polly, after you
win it?” asked Sue, innocently, and Polly
promptly threw sand at her, till she cried quarter.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Whether I win it or not, it’s the sport of the
thing that counts,” she said. “I never saw a race
in all my life that I didn’t wish I was in it, just
for the chance of winning. It isn’t the prize so
much, it’s the honor of the thing, and the sport.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know, Polly, that’s perfectly right,” rejoined
Kate, approvingly. “What if no one
ever entered a race for fear they might not win;
there’d be no racing at all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, if you intend entering, I shall too,”
said Sue. “For I know that the <i>Patsy D.</i> can
outsail anything on this bay if she once ‘gets
a’going,’ as the Captain says. The trouble is,
she won’t ‘get a’going’ until she has a mind to.
I can’t seem to make her grab hold of a breeze
and pull.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You don’t let go your main sheet right,”
Polly told her. “You hoist your sail, and let it
wobble before you let the boom swing about, and
catch the wind into the sail right. Makes me
think of a story the Captain told about one of
the summer cottagers last year, who went out
with Tom and him one day. There was a big
sea on, and when a puff of wind caught her, the
Captain called out, ‘Let go that jib, let go that
jib’. And the guest was really angry and indignant.
‘Who’s touching your old jib, I
should like to know,’ he said, huffily. The Captain
just shook when he told it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth sat up suddenly, and put back her hair
from her face.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I just saw a boat put off from the Orienta
dock,” she said. “It looks like the <i>Nixie</i>. Bess
is at the tiller. I wonder what they can want.
They’re making for here.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It took hardly ten minutes to cross the bay
at its narrow end, with a good wind to help, and
before the girls had time to run up to the cottage
and dress, the <i>Nixie</i> was at the landing, with
reefed sails.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Mamma sent us over,” Dorothy exclaimed, as
soon as she stepped ashore. “The <i>Portland</i>
brought a consignment of fruit for the club last
night, and papa sends you over a basket of it
with his compliments.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls bore the heavy basket up to the porch
and promptly explored its contents. There was
a large watermelon, some canteloupes, peaches
and pears, and a box of stuffed dates.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Mamma put those in because she says she
knows what girls like,” said Bess, perching herself
on the porch railing contentedly. “And
what do you think? We’ve teased and begged
to be allowed to come over here with you for
regatta week, and now we may if you will let
us. You can get a better view of the bay from
this porch than you can from the club.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, young lady, you’ll get your view of
the race from the stern locker of the <i>Nixie</i>,”
said Dorothy, firmly. “Polly won’t allow us in
the club unless we agree to race for the glory
of it, will you?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, ma’am,” returned Polly, serenely, as she
knelt down, and spread out several newspapers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What are you going to do, Polly?” asked
Isabel, who believed firmly in the fitness of
things. “Oh, don’t cut into the melon out here,
dear. Put it on the ice, and let it cool.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Put it on the ice!” Polly repeated, with fine
scorn. “Listen to her, girls. You’d think we
had a whole refrigerator handy. Dorothy, all
the ice we own is wrapped up in Ruth’s old
waterproof cape, in a tub down in the cellar.
It’s about the size of a pincushion, and if I were
to set this watermelon on it, it would just evaporate.
We will eat the melon now to save it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s plenty cold,” Dorothy helped lift the
melon down on the papers. “But, Polly, will it
be all right if we come over and stay for regatta
week?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It will, and we’ll be ever and ever so glad to
have you. It’s very stylish, Isabel, to entertain
guests during a regatta week. Will you please
bring along your own blankets, as we haven’t
enough to go ’round.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Indeed, we will,” Dorothy cried, happily,
“and I’m so pleased. Mamma always is busy
regatta week, and so is papa, and Bess and I just
have to look after ourselves. She’s going on the
Adventure too for the race. Oh, Polly, it’s
splendid to watch them. Last year, at the finish,
the <i>Adventure</i> and <i>Mermaid</i> were right together,
and we all stood up on chairs, and waved flags
at them, and shouted as they came down the last
stretch with every inch of canvas crowded on.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly was very busy carving the watermelon
in fancy fashion, so that when it fell apart, it
looked like a huge, red-hearted lily.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Makes it taste better,” she said, judiciously.
“Who won last year, Dorothy?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, the <i>Adventure</i>, of course. Right at the
very last they crowded on another reef—what do
you call that little bit of a sail way up top on a
sloop, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly shook her head.</p>
<p class='c009'>“T’gallant something, isn’t it? That’s what
the Captain calls my eyebrows. Tarry top
lights, and t’gallant eyebrows, so it must mean
something way high up.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Probably,” Dorothy agreed. “Anyway,
they let out another reef, and the <i>Adventure</i> just
slipped by the <i>Mermaid</i> like a bit of down.
Papa’s boat’s a sloop. It seems to me it’s all
sails. It looks like a great gull with outspread
wings when it’s going full tilt out to sea.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You must always speak of a ship as she or
her,” corrected Bess. “Papa called you a sandpiper
for that, Dolly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t care,” Dorothy laughed. “I want to
tell the girls about it. There are six staterooms
on it, and when the season closes up here at Eagle
Bay, we sail south to Boston, and then home.
Bess and I go to boarding-school.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Just then Tom appeared around the west
shore, holding down the <i>Pirate</i>, while he called,</p>
<p class='c009'>“Want anything over to Eastport?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes. Mail, potatoes and soap,” called back
Polly, with a smile and wave of her hand; then
to Dorothy, as if no interruption had occurred,
“We’re going out with the Captain for a sail
around the Point Light, and down to Tarker’s
Light. He said he’d take us if we behaved for a
week, and we have. Haven’t been out once in a
bad wind, haven’t made any trouble at all, so
now we’re going. Why can’t you and Bess stay
and have dinner with us, though? We won’t
start before two, and Aunty’s making clam pie,
Maryland style, and baked, stuffed tomatoes, and
peach dumplings.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, we’ll stay fast enough,” cried Bess, while
Dorothy just smiled. “You do have the best
things to eat over here that I know anything
about. Papa says he’s coming over some day
just to sample them, and find out if it’s really
true. Doctor Smith says it is; so papa can’t
really tell us out and out that we are coloring it
up a little.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tell him we’d be delighted to entertain him
any time, and Mrs. Vaughan, too,” exclaimed
Polly, with true Southern hospitality. “We’ll
have fried sweet potatoes, and fried chicken, and
corn fritters, and corn pone, all from Aunty
Welcome’s special recipes. She’ll be so proud to
get up a dinner and we’d love to have you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Where’s Isabel?” asked Sue suddenly.
“Did she go up to dress?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, I’m up here in the hammock. I don’t
want to get all freckled in that sunlight,” came
Isabel’s tones from the shadiest corner of the
porch.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Pull her forth, girls,” ordered Polly, gaily.
“She’s too exclusive. She just wants to set herself
up before us as a mirror of style, and we
won’t have it. Pull her forth, and walk her in
the sun till she’s as freckled as a cowslip. What
do you think, Dorothy, this young person wants
to wear a bathing cap with a bow on the front
and a ruffle around it like an old maid’s nightcap,
and she takes a bar of violet scented soap with
her into the deep blue sea when she trips down
to bathe. It once dropped like a stone down to
the bottom, and she never got it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“‘Though lost to sight, to memory dear,’”
quoted Sue; she linked arms with Ted and sang
the refrain over and over with variations, until
Isabel put her fingers in her ears and ran for the
house. Suddenly the majestic form of Aunty
Welcome appeared on the porch, and waved a
dish towel at them.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ain’t dey nobody at all going to eat clam
pie?” she called. “If you all don’t look like a
mess ob turtles burrowing in de sand, den I miss
my guess. And every one eating watermelon.
Well, for de love ob cats! Miss Polly, don’t you
know you’s going ter be so freckled dat you can’t
find de jining places? You come on up out ob
dat sand now, you hyar me?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes’m,” said Polly, meekly, and the rest
trailed after her, for Aunty Welcome’s word was
law on Lost Island.</p>
<p class='c009'>After dinner the Vaughan girls had to return,
but the others dressed and sat out on the steps,
awaiting the Captain’s coming. The everyday
suits of blue duck had been discarded, and they
had dressed in festal array to honor the Captain.
They were all in their best yachting suits of white
duck, trimmed in dark blue, with dark blue reefer
jackets, and caps to match. But before the
trip was over, when the seas had swashed up merrily
over the sloop, as she keeled over to the lee-shore,
they wished they had worn the blue duck.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What boat will he bring that can carry all
of us?” asked Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Tom said the sloop,” answered Polly, as she
sat up on the railing, and re-tied Crullers’ hair
bows into a semblance of neatness and taste.
“It belongs to the lighthouse keeper at the Point,
but the Captain can borrow it whenever he wants,
and it’s a sea-going craft.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Is it, indeed?” giggled Sue. “Girls, do you
notice how Commodore Polly tosses around
nautical phrases real careless-like nowadays?”</p>
<p class='c009'>There hove into sight around the Knob, just
then, the Captain and his sloop. Nancy and
Tom were aboard too, and acting as able seamen.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, I’ll get your soap and potatoes and
mail to-night,” shouted Tom, as they came within
hail. “I saw Billy Clewen over at the Inlet with
his tender, and I hopped in so as to meet father
at the Point, and come on down.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s all right,” Polly responded. “Oh,
girls, isn’t she handsome,” as they watched the
sloop under the Captain’s handling. Steadily,
easily, without any apparent fuss or bother, he
brought her about, reefed her sails, and left her
standing, as Tom said, quiet as a lamb, without
a halter on.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Who puts a halter on a lamb anyway, Tom?”
teased Nancy. “Besides, the <i>Lucy C.</i> has a
halter on. Didn’t you see me just drop it overboard?
We can’t bring her up to the landing,
Polly. She draws nine feet—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Seven,” corrected the Captain, as he smoked
comfortably on his pet pipe, an old briarwood
whose bowl was all charred from long usage.
“And ten-foot beam.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How can we get aboard, then?” asked Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m coming after you in the ‘dink,’” Tom
answered.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, my land! If I ever see sech a top-heavy,
lopsided thing,” murmured Aunty Welcome.
“Is you all going to trust your precious
lives out in mid ocean in sech a contrivance?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t you fret one bit, not when we’re with
Captain Carey,” Polly laughed as she waved her
hand. The last girl stepped aboard, and the
sails were hoisted. After the little spreads of
canvas on their own boats, it seemed to the girls
as if the sails of the <i>Lucy C.</i> were gigantic, but
Tom and his father managed them trimly, and
as the wind filled them, they struck out across
the bay with a tilt to leeward that was delightful.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Captain, do I walk with the right sort of
roll?” asked Ted, her hands deep in her reefer
pockets, her cap on the back of her red curls, as
she stepped boldly out on the slanting deck.
But the sloop dipped to a wave, and came up
with a lurch, and Ted sat down with startling
suddenness.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, not quite,” the Captain answered from
the wheel, his blue eyes twinkling. “You’d better
get acquainted with her first. Now, you
can’t get up and do a grand march along the
deck of a driving sloop. It’s against all human
nature and boat nature. You’ve got to sit tight,
and mind the sloop, and follow her moods, and
get ahead of them too. A sloop has got more
moods than any boat I know of. A yawl is
sort of divided in her ways, like a widow after
her second husband. She’s got one before, and
one behind, so to speak, and it steadies her a bit,
but a sloop’s sails act in close sympathy, and
when one of them starts acting kittenish, the rest
follow suit.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How large is this one, Captain?” asked Ruth,
holding to her cap, as the wind blew freshly
around her.</p>
<p class='c009'>“About forty foot, more or less. Her
draught’s seven foot.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Why here we are to the channel already,”
Polly sang out, as they slipped past Smugglers’
Cove, and could see the view out to sea around
the Point. The doctor was sitting down on the
landing fishing; fishing tranquilly, in his own
way. There were lines hanging all around him,
fastened to the planks with an invention of his
own, by which a little bell rang every time a fish
took the bait. Placidly he sat there, his hat
tilted forward to shield his eyes, and a pile of
magazines beside him betraying his real occupation.
The girls called and called to him; at last
he looked up and waved to them.</p>
<p class='c009'>As they rounded the Point the wind freshened
considerably. It was glorious to sail with the
sharp bow cutting the water like a knife, and
throwing up great clouds of spray that drenched
the girls like an April shower as the head wind
threw it back on them. Overhead the canvas
tugged until the rigging sang a tune all its own.</p>
<p class='c009'>Ted and Sue were singing at the tops of their
voices, arms linked closely, backed up against
what Crullers called “the high side of her.” The
others joined in the choruses, except Polly, who
stood beside the Captain at the wheel. There
was a look in her dark eyes that matched his own,
as she half closed them in the face of the wind, a
look out at the open sea they both loved well.
Once the Captain turned his head, and smiled
down at her, as if to let her know he understood
her feelings exactly, and he let her help with the
jib several times, while he and Tom managed
the main sail, and Nancy held her steady on her
course at the little pilot wheel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s ever so much rougher out here than it is
in the bay, isn’t it?” Isabel called faintly, but the
wind drowned her voice, and she sat huddled up
on a locker with her coat turned up around her
ears, for all the world like a ship’s cat in a storm,
Tom said.</p>
<p class='c009'>Tarker’s Light was about five miles down the
west shore towards Portland. The seas were
longer and heavier than those on the bay, but the
sloop rode them easily, and only shipped one big
green fellow, as the Captain tacked south of the
Light, and cut across back towards home. It
splashed up over the deck house, and caught
Isabel and the rest fairly, until they shrieked.
Polly and Nancy escaped, for they were with the
Captain, and they rounded the big bell buoy out
in mid channel that clanked a warning note as if
it had a cold in its head, Sue said.</p>
<p class='c009'>It was after five when they came up to the Life
Saving Station on the Point, and stood by handsomely
while Billy Clewen, the keeper, came out
in a dory and took off the girls.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m thinking that I’ll send you home by the
shore road, with Tom and a lantern,” said the
Captain, as they walked up the beach towards
the low wooden buildings that nestled among the
great hummocks of sand at the Point. “I’m on
the eight to twelve watch to-night, and I can
walk a ways with you myself, but the wind’s
dropped down with the sun, and there’ll hardly
be a puff to carry you back by water.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How lonesome it looks out here,” said Polly,
standing on one of the sand dunes, and gazing
around her. The Point of the Sickle came down
to what Tom called a mere “spit of sand.”
There were few rocks out there, except for the
reef that lay east of the channel, towards the
east shore. On the Point there was just a long,
low stretch of sand, with great circling combers
flowing in ceaselessly, breaking one above another
on the long, shallow shingle. Dark green
they were underneath, then lighter, and lighter,
as the sunlight shot them through with rainbow
hues, and last of all the curling plumes of spray
tossed on their crests.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isn’t it all pretty,” cried Ruth, her cheeks
turning pink as she ran to Polly’s side. “Don’t
you know some place in Kipling where he tells
about the white horses of the sea? Oh, Polly,
I love it all so. I never saw the real ocean before.
I mean to stand on a shore, and look out
and out and out on just waves, and know that
there’s no land for a thousand miles.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Farther than that,” said Polly. “I think it’s
beautiful.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“So it is, so it is, now,” agreed the Captain,
“but ’tain’t so pretty in the winter, when the ice
piles up, and the sleet beats you half down to
the ground, when you try to fight your way in its
face.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Do you have to patrol all night long on the
beach?” Polly asked, in her earnest, compassionate
way.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, no. We take it in watches. One
watch leaves about sunset, and they travel two
miles to the half-way house over yonder, and
they meet the next watch, and so it goes through
the night.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What’s the name of that queer light they
carry around their necks?” asked Crullers. “It
explodes, I think.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s the Coston light,” said the Captain.
“I’ll show you some when we get inside the station.
We don’t use them unless there’s a ship
in danger at night. It’s to let the crew know
they have been seen and help will be sent.
There’s a spring you tap, and a percussion cap
explodes that sets fire to the red light. Last
spring, along the first of April, we got the tail
end of a gale that had traveled all along the
coast, and still had spunk enough to run a
schooner on the reef yonder. We saw her beating
her way down about sunset. Lumber boat
she was, bound for Boston. I says then to Billy
Clewen over at the Light that she’d never get by
the Point. So we was looking out for her, but
the crew were all Gloucester boys, and they
wouldn’t give up till she’d struck fair and
square.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then what?” Polly’s dark, straight brows
drew together anxiously. She looked out at the
reef that showed its teeth about the incoming
tide.</p>
<p class='c009'>“We lost two of them,” said the Captain.
“They was brothers, poor laddies. They came
ashore two and a half miles below here. But we
took off the rest.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I think it’s terrible, all the wrecks there
are,” exclaimed Ruth, tensely. “Death seems
so useless when it’s an accident.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, I’m thinking there ain’t anything that
happens under the sun you can call useless,” rejoined
the old sailor, placidly.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly began to sing, her voice rising clear and
high on the breeze that blew up from the west,
as the sun went down.</p>
<div class='lg-container-b'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Three fishers went sailing out into the west,</div>
<div class='line in2'>Out into the west as the sun went down,</div>
<div class='line'>Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,</div>
<div class='line in2'>And the children stood watching them out of the town.</div>
<div class='line'>For men must work and women must weep,</div>
<div class='line in2'>And there’s little to earn, and many to keep,</div>
<div class='line'>Though the harbor bar be moaning.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, don’t, please,” cried Ruth and
Isabel together. “It makes the cold chills run
down your back.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, now, I never feel that way about it,”
said the Captain, contentedly. “Our times are
in His hands, do you mind? Our times are in
His hands. Don’t you ever forget that. When
I was a youngster like you girls and Tom here,
I used to reason along those lines too, and I’d
be hoping I’d die this way and that way, and I’d
be wishing for a chariot and some angels. Well,
now it rests me to feel that I’m going to tread
the same gangway as the rest, and my Captain
is counting on me to stand faithful to my articles.
I’ve a pretty good notion this dying business
isn’t so troublesome as folks think. I’ve picked
up a good many poor lads along the shore, and
not one of them looked worried. Some were sort
of smiling. It’s real comforting, if you look at
it sensibly.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls remembered that sunset hour all their
lives. There was nothing exciting about the
quiet station, nor the lighthouse out on the Point,
although they did find the keeper, Billy Clewen,
very kind. He was a little old man about seventy-four,
but everybody along the shore called
him Billy Clewen. One thing that he told them
the girls thought very pathetic. He said in bad
weather the sea birds would see the light and
would fly to it, and beat their lives out against
the heavy glass, seeking shelter from a storm.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Were you ever in danger out here, Mr.
Clewen?” asked Isabel, whose mind always
drifted towards romance.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just call me Billy, miss,” answered the old
fellow, happily, as he followed them out into the
neat garden, with its paling fence half buried in
sand. “I can’t just say as I was, and I can’t
just say as I wasn’t, nuther. It’s about ten years
ago, and my wife was alive. Her father used to
be lighthouse tender before I come here, and she
was born in this house. And that winter I come
down sick with pneumony. Pretty bad sick I
was, too, pretty bad sick. Sally, she had to turn
in and trim the lamps and see they was lighted
up on time, and look after me besides, and she
was sorter tangled up herself with sciatic rheumatiz,
and if the ile didn’t give out on top of it
all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The what, Billy?” asked Crullers, innocently.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Ile, ile, what we put into the lamps. Anyhow,
I remembered it the last thing, and told her
the boys at the station would help her. There
was a nor’wester a-blowing round this Point that
would have picked up an ocean liner, and played
ball with it, and the snow a-banking up around
us like sand dunes. I didn’t think Sally would
weather it, but she started off. The fever had
me tight, but I held my course and when it grew
dark and no Sally, up I gets out of bed, and
crept along on my hands and knees to the passageway
that leads to the tower, and that’s where
the Captain found me when he came to fill the
lamps and light ’em up.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How did he know?” asked Polly, eagerly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“He knew I was sick, and he was bringing me
over some medicine Mis’ Carey fixed up for me,
and he found Sarah in a drift, half-way between
the Station and this here fence, half froze, but
he had the ile, Lord bless your hearts, he had the
ile, and he set the light burning.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Avast there, Billy,” shouted the Captain
over his shoulder. “Are you spinning that there
oil yarn to those poor children?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am, Cap, I am,” laughed Billy. “And I’ll
spin it to Saint Peter too, when I stop to rest a
bit by the gates of pearl, if he’ll give me an ear,
just to let him know you’re coming.”</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXVII' class='c006'>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>POLLY PREPARES</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>It was dark when the girls reached the cottage
on the island that night. They lingered at the
Life Saving Station until the Captain ordered
them home, and then Tom led the way with a
lantern along the shore road. There was no
moon, but the stars shone, and the wind had gone
down, leaving the sea quiet, except for the long,
lazy swells that brushed along the ocean beach
to their left.</p>
<p class='c009'>Once Tom paused at a rise in the ground and
pointed away off to the south side of the Sickle
where a light twinkled.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s the half-way house,” he told them.
“They have one every two miles along shore; the
men meet there and exchange slips and pass on.
I’ll be glad when I’m old enough to join.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Say, Polly,” exclaimed Ruth that night, as
the girls sat around in the living-room, after they
were undressed, combing their hair, and chatting
girl fashion, “isn’t it queer that people who lead
lives of danger never seem to think anything of
it at all?”</p>
<div id='i292' class='figcenter id005'>
<img src='images/illus-292.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
<div class='ic001'>
<p><span class='sc'>Combing Their Hair and Chatting, Girl Fashion</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“You’re never afraid of anything you know
all about,” Kate put in. “It’s the unknown
danger that scares you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I mean firemen, and soldiers, and life-savers—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And mothers and fathers, and heroes generally,”
put in Polly, as she sat on a sofa
cushion, her long, brown curls falling loosely
around her, and her pink kimono slipped on over
her night gown, for the nights were always cool
on the bay. “I know what you mean, Ruth.
It’s because they have so much else to think about
that they haven’t time to worry. Tom’s all
ready to make a business of being a hero, and
he doesn’t realize it is being a hero. He thinks
it’s lots of fun.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls,” called out Sue from the table, where
she was tracing strange figures on a sheet of
paper, “does the course cut around this side of
Smugglers’ Cove, or the Inlet side?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Inlet,” Polly replied. “It’s a straight line
due northeast, then east by southeast for the
channel.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Then we can see it better from our own porch
than from the Orienta.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know we can, but we’re going over to the
Orienta, because grandfather will be there, we
hope, and we want to be all mixed in with the
really, truly yachtsmen.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It won’t matter the first day, Polly, because
that’s for the largest boats. They are to sail on
a fifteen-mile course, Dorothy says, out to sea,
then zigzag back to Tarker’s Light, and along
shore home. The second day is for thirty-footers
and forty-footers, and they take the north
shore run for eight miles and back. The third
day is ours, the twenty-footers and under, and
we are to sail right here in Eagle Bay, from the
club to the Point, and across the bay to the mouth
of the Inlet, then back on the two-mile stretch
to Fair Havens.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s more than two miles from the Inlet to
Fair Havens,” protested Crullers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, it isn’t,” said Polly. “Nancy and I have
sailed it often. It’s a longer stretch from the
club house to the Point by a mile, than it is from
Fair Havens to the Inlet, because the Sickle
runs away out into the sea, don’t you know.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“How many of us are going to enter for the
Junior Cup?” Kate asked.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly looked around her at the assembled
group. Isabel and Crullers preserved a dignified
silence. Ruth hesitated, pondering many
things. Only Sue and Ted and Kate said positively
that they would enter the race for twenty-footers
and under; Sue with the <i>Patsy D.</i>, Ted
with the <i>Hurricane</i>, and Kate with her skip-jack,
the <i>Witch Cat</i>.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Nancy’s going to enter the <i>Pirate</i>,” Polly
said. “And I will sail the <i>Tidy Jane!</i> How
about you, Ruth?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, I don’t honestly think I had better go
into the race. I can’t manage the <i>Iris</i> well
enough to race her, and I’ll be sure to get into
somebody’s way if they don’t succeed in getting
into mine first.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, you won’t, Grandma. Stop your fussing,”
laughed Polly. “You can sail a boat as
well as any of us, and it’s lots of fun. Dorothy
says we will be the only outsiders in that class,
the rest are Juniors from the Orienta.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Boys?” Ruth’s tone was ominous.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t know whether they will be boys or
pollywogs,” said Polly, her eyes full of mischief.
“Who’s afraid, anyway? I’d just as soon race
against boys as girls.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No boys in the twenty-footer class,” called
Kate.</p>
<p class='c009'>“How do you know?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I asked Tom. The only boys’ yacht club
around here is the Pautipaug Beach Club, about
five miles east, and they never race, he says. All
they do is fish, and camp out, and slosh around
shore.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What’s that?” asked Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t know. Tom called it that. He says
they hoist a sail, and lash the tiller, and then go
to sleep.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, that’s only one of Tom’s yarns, but
just the same I think that is all most yacht clubs
do, ‘slosh around shore.’” Polly’s tone was full
of fine, ringing scorn.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But, Polly, there are five or six girls from
the Orienta Juniors, and we’ll have to race
against them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“All the more fun,” responded the Commodore
with true sportsmanlike generosity. “I do hope
that grandfather will come north so he can see
it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And watch us win,” added Sue.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, you may laugh,” persisted Polly, happily,
“but I can’t see why one of us shouldn’t
win. We can sail our boats every bit as well as
Dorothy and Bess, or any Orienta girl. Nancy
is the only one who can beat us, and I’d just as
soon she did, if it had to be somebody. It would
be for the glory of our club anyway, if she did.
Week after next, children, nine days, to be accurate,
as Fraulein used to say, is the event, and
we must clean up our old hulls, and get in line,
and practise along the course. It means work,
every single day, with our sleeves rolled up.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, I am not going to race,” Isabel said,
decidedly. “I want to finish my shell portìere
before we go home, and fix up my collection, and
it’s too hard work.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’d like to race, but I’m afraid to,” Crullers
put in, dubiously. “Polly, I just can’t.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, don’t then,” said Polly, cheerfully.
“You two can be our rocking-chair fleet.
There’s always one in every club. You may sit
up here and enjoy the view with Aunty Welcome.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The following days were the busiest that Lost
Island had seen that summer. Tom and Nancy
came over every morning, after their own work
was done, advising and assisting. Dorothy and
Bess were enthusiastic over the Junior event.
There were more entries for it than ever before,
Commodore Vaughan said, and they were all
girls. Every afternoon the graceful little “cats”
and knockabouts, yawls and skipjacks, sailed on
the bay, and it looked as if Nancy and Dorothy
had the best showing, for theirs were the largest
boats.</p>
<p class='c009'>The course was neither difficult nor dangerous
in any way, and providing the weather and wind
held fair, the race was bound to be a spirited one,
for it would be a straight away run.</p>
<p class='c009'>One day they all went over to the Orienta
Club to look at the trophy the winner of the
Junior event would bear away. It was an exact
reproduction of the large Championship Cup the
Orienta Club had held for several years. The
cup stood about eight inches high, lined with
gold, and shaped like a chalice, the outer side
was of richly chased silver, and engraved.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I like that very much,” Polly remarked,
critically, as she scrutinized the workmanship on
it. “Don’t you remember, Ruth, the summer
we went down to Old Point Comfort with grandfather
and saw the regatta? I went on the committee
boat that day, and followed the race. But
the cup didn’t look like a cup at all. It looked
more like a silver ice-water pitcher.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Maybe it was a flagon,” Kate said meditatively.
“Did it have a beak, and a handle?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Two handles,” Polly returned, “and a large
curved beak, and a cover to it like a syrup jug.
And yet they called it a cup.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“This one has two handles, look, Polly,” said
Ted. “I like it that way.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“So do I,” said Sue. “I shall enjoy drinking
the <i>Patsy D.’s</i> health in it with Aunty Welcome’s
fruit lemonade after the race is won.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Listen to her, Polly. As if her old <i>Patsy</i>
had any chance at all against my <i>Hurricane</i>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Sue smiled, and slipped her arm through
Ted’s.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Bide a wee, Edwina,” she laughed. “I’ll let
you drink out of it first of all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The day before the regatta was an exciting one
on Eagle Bay. Sometime the night before the
<i>Adventure</i> dropped anchor, and the first object
the girls beheld the following morning was the
slender, low yacht, with her great uplift of
spars and white-clad sailors running about the
deck.</p>
<p class='c009'>“She’s won ever so many cups,” Dorothy said,
as they watched her through opera glasses, which
Polly had thought to slip in with her equipment.
“They stand all in a long row on her cabin
sideboard. And she’s worth over fifty thousand
dollars. When I told papa I thought that was
too much to pay for a yacht, he laughed at me
and said some steam yachts cost as much as that
just to keep traveling for a year.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“There comes another one around the Point,”
called Ted. “That’s a yawl, isn’t it?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Auxiliary yawl,” corrected Dorothy. “How
queer her sails look from here, the big mainsail,
and topsail, and the jib, and then that funny
spread down near the end. Makes me think of a
cat and her kitten. But wait till the sloops arrive.
I like them the best. They are so stately
and slender, and when they sail under full canvas
they dip to the wind like gulls.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly had hesitated over putting fresh coats of
paint on the <i>Tidy Jane</i>, and the <i>Iris</i>. The
other boats were in fairly good order, for Tom
and his father had repainted them early in the
spring for the Holmes boys. But that final
week before the event, Polly painted and caulked
seams, and overhauled with an energy and vim
that made even Tom remonstrate.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now you mind what I tell you, it won’t make
them go a bit faster, not a bit,” he grumbled,
when Polly coaxed him to help them fix a dry
dock.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, but Tom, they’ll look so handsome,”
pleaded Polly. “I’m going to run a beautiful
dark blue belt ribbon of paint around the <i>Tidy
Jane</i>, and then, under strained circumstances—”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, see here,” Tom crawled laboriously out
from under the <i>Jane</i>, a paint pot in one hand
and a brush in the other, “you can strain all the
circumstances you want, but she won’t go a bit
faster.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls broke into a peal of laughter at him,
but Tom stolidly refused to see anything funny
in the whole proceeding and went on painting
reluctantly.</p>
<p class='c009'>But it paid, even the Captain said so the last
day, when he came over on a tour of inspection,
and approved of the Polly Page Club’s racers,
clean and trim as paint and polish could make
them.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aren’t they handsome?” asked Polly,
proudly, as she stood beside him on the landing,
and surveyed the fleet.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Fine and dandy,” echoed the Captain, heartily.
“If they act as saucy as they look, there
won’t be a running chance for any other boat on
the bay. You want to look out for the <i>Jane</i>,
mind. Don’t give her her head. She’s a smart
one, now, I tell you. I never let her find out she
could get the best of me, but she was always
a-trying. Make her feel your hand steady on
the tiller, every minute, or she’ll bolt like a wild
thing. And when she takes a notion to tilt on
her beam end in a good puff of wind, why, let
her tilt. She can’t do a mite of harm, not a mite.
I’ve had her out when the seas would skip clean
over her, and half fill the cockpit, and she’d tilt
till she’d lift her centerboard out of the water.
Yes, ma’am. And what did I do? Just patted
her down easy, and let her drift off a bit to leeward
till the wind spilled out of her sail, and
when she came about again, she’d right herself
like a lady and walk on.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly nodded comprehendingly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know how she acts,” she said. “And that’s
just the way I feel about her, too, Captain Carey,
as if she were alive, and could almost understand
what I say to her.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, it’s something plain humans can’t know
about,” the Captain answered, in his slow, restful,
philosophic way. “Every boat on the face
of the waters has got just as much personality
as you or I, and they’ve got dispositions too.
I’ve shipped before now on vessels that you
couldn’t make behave themselves any more’n you
could harness up a porpoise to a plough. Then
I’ve shipped on bashful, nervous creeturs of
boats, that would dance and shiver their timbers
from one beam end to another, for all the world
like some old woman. There was a three-master
out of Martha’s Vineyard when I was a lad.
She carried various articles of trade along the
west coast of Africa, and she was the skeeriest
thing I ever sailed on. She had her favorites
among the crew too, mind you. I’ve seen her
fairly tremble and waver when the pilot for the
day would take hold of her. He was a big, slow
chap from a place called Noank down on the
Connecticut shore. Name was Shad Hardy, and
it suited him. He had the identical expression
of a shad. I was on night duty then at the
wheel, and the minute she’d feel my hand on the
spokes, she was like a lamb. I’d speak to her,
and steady her up a bit, and she’d march along
in the wind, like a grenadier to band music. I
always did say it wa’n’t no use trying to make a
ship like you, when it had made up its mind it
wouldn’t. They’re the notioniest things alive,
’cepting females, and I sometimes think that’s
why some discerning seaman called a boat ‘she’
and set public opinion that way.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Captain, when you know how nice we are,
and how we mind you,” rebuked Polly. “Just
wait till to-morrow.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The Junior race won’t come off till the third
day Tom tells me,” the Captain answered.
“And that makes me think.” He dipped into
his jacket pocket, and pulled forth neat rolls
of twine and lines, a pouch of tobacco, and some
keys. “They just gave me a telegram for you
over at the hotel. Here ’tis. No, ’tain’t.
Avast there, maybe it’s down below. Nancy and
mother told me not to give it to you sudden, for
fear it might be bad news.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, I don’t think it is,” Polly said, hopefully.
She never went out and opened the gate for
trouble, not Polly.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Captain drew forth the yellow envelope
gingerly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wouldn’t open it in too big a hurry, anyway,”
he warned. “Better take such matters
pretty easy. I’m suspicious of the pesky things
every time I see one. I never got one yet that
told me any good news. It always plumps you
full of bad surprises, all to once.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, this is good news,” Polly cried, as she
glanced over the sheet of paper. “It’s from
grandfather, and he’ll be here to-morrow, and
stay for regatta week, then take us home with
him! Let’s see, from the fifteenth to the twenty-second
is the regatta, then allowing four days
down the coast we’ll get to Queen’s Ferry just
in time to rest up before school opens.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Captain’s eyes twinkled under their bushy
brows.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I shall have to hand in a true and faithful
report if the Admiral asks me for one,” he said.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, but we’ve been good, haven’t we, Captain
Carey?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Fair to middlin’, fair to middlin’,” laughed
the old sailor, as he started down the beach, and
Polly ran up to the house to break the news to
the other girls.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXVIII' class='c006'>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>THE REGATTA</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>There was an air of excitement and activity
about Eagle Bay the following morning. All
summer long it had been a quiet inlet of the great
Atlantic. When the long breakers would come
surging in on the south shore of the Sickle, half
a mile over on its north shore there would hardly
be a ripple on the bay. Up at the east end of
course, near the Point, the heavy seas would
come racing through the channel, but before they
had gone far, the bay had caught them and
soothed them, and all their fury died away in her
placid arms.</p>
<p class='c009'>But when the sun rose on the fifteenth of
August, all along the bay there was a holiday
look to things. The weather was splendid, not
too warm nor too windy, but just right, the girls
declared, as they all trouped out on the porch
before breakfast, with various “envelopes”
around them, as Crullers expressed it, to take a
look at the scene. The hotel flaunted flags wherever
a flag could be placed to advantage, and all
along the beach, the cottages had out bunting and
flags too. At the landing at Fair Havens, one
huge flag was unfurled with dignity to the morning
breeze.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, dear, I wish we had thought to buy a lot
of flags too,” cried Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There’s a whole week of it,” Polly answered.
“We can buy them to-day over in the village.
Don’t worry over anything at all, girls. Let’s
be just as happy as we can while it lasts.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Twelve large yachts they counted, besides several
steam launches, motor boats, and smaller
sailing craft. From the rigging of every one of
them fluttered gay strings of small flags, and
Polly finally ran down to their own flag pole and
raised the blue and gold pennant of which the
girls were so proud.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Before the week is over, girls,” cried Kate,
waving her towel at it joyously, as she came out
on the porch after her bath, clad in her bathrobe,
“every boat on the bay will know and respect
that flag.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Commodore had sent over a cordial invitation
for them to be the guests of the Orienta
whenever they felt like it during regatta week.
Polly hardly knew what to say about it. The
best view of the course could be had from Lost
Island, but the girls wanted to go to the big club
house and “strut,” as Sue said.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You’re a lot of vain bluejays,” Polly declared
laughingly. “All you want to do is dress
up in your best yachting suits, and go over there
and be petted. I know you all.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, come on. We haven’t been petted
much this summer, have we?” pleaded Ted.
“We’ve stayed right here and worked like able
seamen, you know we have. Mayn’t we tie on
our best hair ribbons now and go and eat ice
cream, please?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Please, Commodore,” echoed Kate and Ruth,
laughingly, and the Commodore finally agreed.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I think we’d better start by half-past eight,
girls,” she said, as she sat in the hammock and deliberately
brushed out her brown curls.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Say, Polly, suppose somebody over on the
yachts had field glasses, and could see you?”
questioned Isabel.</p>
<p class='c009'>“See <i>me</i>? Look at Kate clad in a bath robe
of bright blue Turkish toweling. Look at Crullers
with a red shawl draped artistically over her
nightgown. I move we all adjourn out of
sight.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Aunty Welcome’s turbaned head appeared at
the kitchen door, as they all trooped back into the
living-room.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Has you all been out on dat porch in your
nightgowns?” she asked, ominously. “Well, I
did think I might make a Spanish omelet for
breakfast, but now you don’t get it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, please, darling, precious Aunty—” began
Polly, who loved Spanish omelet, but Welcome
held firmly to her point.</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, ma’am. It’s de only power I got over
you all, and if you don’t behave, I won’t cook
nice things for you. Oatmeal and boiled eggs
is what you’ll get.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let’s hurry and dress, girls, and maybe she
will.” Polly curled her hair over her finger
quickly, and tied the cluster with a soft satin ribbon.
“Grandfather arrives at Eastport on the
nine forty-five train from Portland, and I want
to be there to meet him. So I think you girls
can all go up on the Orienta veranda and watch
the start, and we can join you there.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“There won’t be any start before noon,” Kate
answered. “Why can’t we all meet the Admiral
at Eastport and let everybody else know we are
meeting him. It’s an event for a little place like
Eastport to catch a real Rear-Admiral even if he
is on the retired list, and we must let the town
know its honor. Let’s all carry blue and gold
flags, and dress up in our best, and salute him in
state when the train pulls in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly enjoyed the plan, and they hurried with
their dressing, then walked out sedately into the
little room that served as a dining-room. Welcome’s
face was immobile and unrelenting, but
on the table there were neither boiled eggs nor
oatmeal. Crullers saw, and gave one glad cry.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls, waffles!”</p>
<p class='c009'>Now waffles are usually merely an adjunct to
a full meal, but not Welcome’s waffles. There
was no room for other food. The girls ate
waffles with butter and sugar on them, and then
waffles with honey on them, then Polly tried some
maple syrup, and Sue hunted up the strawberry
jam jar, and Ruth appeared with some marmalade.</p>
<p class='c009'>“’Deed, an’ I nevah see sech appetites,” Welcome
declared, her indignation forgotten, as she
stood over the cookstove, and guarded the waffle
iron, her old face smiling broadly. “Dat’s jest
sixty-nine I done cooked dis yere morning for
you all, and I don’t see whar you puts ’em, chillern.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s your own fault, Aunty,” Polly declared.
“You make them so light and nice, that when we
eat them, they just evaporate.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Listen to her get ’round her mammy,” Welcome’s
fat sides shook with laughter, as she ladled
out more. “Hyar goes seventy-one.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom had agreed to drive over after them in
the carry-all. Polly’s orders had gone forth,
and not a single boat was to be taken out on the
bay until the Junior race. She wanted them
spick and span for the event of the regatta, and
even Dorothy and Bess’s boat, the <i>Nixie</i>, looked
weather-beaten beside the newly painted challengers
of the Junior Cup.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Who are the judges, Kate?” asked Ted, as
they drove along the shore road towards town.
It had been a matter for calculation to get seven
girls into the carry-all besides the driver, but
some way it had happened. There was room for
four people, and under pressure, five, but when
they picked up Nancy too, down at Fair Havens,
there were nine aboard, and the colts moderated
their pace. Tom’s special pride in life, next to
his hope of being a life saver, was the colts.
Sorrels they were, and almost a perfect match to
Ted’s red curls. The Captain had owned them
twelve years, and they had grown up with the
children, so they still called them the “colts.”
And they had traveled that shore road so often
during those twelve years that the Captain declared
he shouldn’t be at all surprised to see them
walk out of their stalls, harness each other up,
and start off alone at any time. As the two
trotted along the shore road together, they scattered
a cloud of dust behind, and their short
manes caught the breeze like a t’gallant peak
flag, Tom said.</p>
<p class='c009'>It was the first time the girls had all been to
Eastport since their arrival at Eagle Bay. It
lay about two miles from the club house on
Orienta Point, and a quarter of a mile up the
Inlet. A big lumber mill off to one end of town
hummed its song lazily. You could tell just
what the saw was doing from the tone, Sue said.
First the sharp hiss as it cut the bark, then a
gradually rising buzz and hum, till there came
the crack as it fell apart. Off to the other side
of the village lay the railroad station. There
were half a dozen buildings around the central
square of green, some low white houses, with
their green blinds tightly closed, and little garden
patches out in front filled with sweet-scented
old-fashioned flowers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I was born over yonder,” Tom told them,
pointing his whip at a little house next the white
church that occupied the north end of the green.
“So was Pa, and his Pa too, but now my Aunt
Cynthy Bardwell lives there. She’s got the
finest rose garden in Eastport, and all the summer
folks come down here to buy her roses.
She’s Pa’s only sister, and her husband was a
captain too, sailed a schooner up to the Gulf
every year for over forty years, and fell off the
dock down here one day loading ties.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Doing what, Tom?” asked Polly, anxiously,
as they stopped.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Loading railroad ties from the saw mill yonder,
to carry south. He was just visiting around
the docks and saw a tie slip into the river, and
it knocked off a little chap with it, Dicky Button,
it was, and Uncle Bardwell went in after
him, and just then a boat come along, and her
swell swashed the schooner up against the dock,
and when they got him out he was dead, but
Dicky’s alive.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls listened and made up their minds
they wanted to see the rose garden then and
there. It was only nine, Polly said, and the
train couldn’t possibly get through the village
without everybody knowing it was there. So
Tom tied the colts to the hitching post, and they
went in to call on Mrs. Cynthy Bardwell.</p>
<p class='c009'>Ruth started to walk up the front path, but
Tom told her they had better go around to the
back door, so they followed him obediently along
the graveled path, bordered neatly with clam
shells turned face downward in the mould.
Then came “old hen and chickens,” as Kate
called them, mignonette, sweet alyssium, marigolds,
and pansies. And in the center of each
bed there rose up stocks, pink and white, and so
fragrant and lovable, that the girls begged for
some at once.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, I do declare!” exclaimed a sweet,
friendly voice so near to them they nearly
jumped. “I’m right here at the buttery window,
girls, and I saw you and Tom coming.
Wait a minute till I change my apron.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“It gave me quite a turn to see such a lot of
youngsters in my garden so early,” she told
them, when she appeared, tying the strings of
her apron as she talked. “Come and see my
roses.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It seemed as if nothing but roses grew in that
long back garden, shaded with horse chestnut
trees, excepting the tall lilac bushes along the
fence and the lilies of the valley that grew
thickly on the ground beneath them.</p>
<p class='c009'>“They’ve gone by long ago,” Mrs. Bardwell
said, “but they’re real sweet in the spring.”</p>
<p class='c009'>On the white and green trellis work above the
kitchen portico, a crimson rambler climbed sturdily
to the “ell” roof. A sweetbrier hung over
the gate, with little white roses nearly gone.
Then there were bushes of old-fashioned blush
roses, so delicately pink and sweet that Polly declared
all she could think of was her grandmother’s
wedding chest at home, with its flat silk
bags of dried rose leaves, still heavy with fragrance
from roses that had bloomed half a century
ago.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Yes, they’re sweet, but I have a leaning towards
the white brides,” said Mrs. Bardwell,
moving from bush to bush like a white bride herself,
with her silver white curls, pink cheeks, and
fresh white apron. “And the bees love them
best too. They’re all gone by, now. I can generally
count on them along in June. The crimson
rambler’s real hardy, but it’s beginning now
to shake its petals. I suppose you folks down
south have roses so much you hardly appreciate
them, but we love them. Summer’s kind of
late up here, and I’ve had roses for my table
clear to the end of August. These here were
American Beauties. I never tried them before
this year, but a man come along last fall and
sorter talked me into taking them, and they did
bloom up real sightly, but terrible thorny. This
bush I raised from a slip my mother gave me
the day I was married. It’s a cabbage rose.
’Tain’t a pretty name, but I love the bush, and
the flower too. It looks more like a lot of little
rosebuds all clustered together than just one
flower, don’t it? There’s moss roses down in
that corner by the fence, but they went by last
month too. These here, they call them Gloriana
Wonders. I always feel like shaking them
same as you would a child that won’t behave.
They bloom all to once, and just open up their
whole hearts in a day, and the wind blows them
to Halifax.” She laughed happily, touching
the leaves with tender, lingering fingers as you
would the flushed cheek of a baby. “I suppose
I’m foolish over them, but they’re all I’ve got
to love and care for now. I used to have five
babies of my own, and they’re all lying over
yonder around their father, the Captain, in the
little cemetery across from the lighthouse, on the
east shore.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We haven’t been there yet,” Polly said, her
dark eyes full of sympathy, as she held the flowers
that Aunt Cynthy clipped steadily while she
talked.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Haven’t you? It’s real int’restin’,” answered
the old lady cheerily. “I like it better,
somehow, than the new one down by the church.
That was built recently, thirty years ago, wasn’t
it, Tom? The old one goes back long before
that, and I want to lie there, even if the graves
be half sunken, and some of the stones lopsided.
I guess they sleep the long sleep just as well. I
had father and the children buried sorter opposite
from the way other folks do. I didn’t p’int
them to the east and the sunrise. I p’inted them
due west, so they can look straight out over the
bay from the east shore of the channel. I know
that’s the way they would have liked it best.
These here tea roses are real sweet and friendly,
don’t you think so? and lasting, too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I think the whole garden is lovely,” cried
Polly. “I just wish I could reach out and hug
them all. Seems as if I never saw such a garden
before.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, flowers are like children and friends.
Give ’em love and care, and plenty of fresh
water, and they’ll love you back a hundred-fold.
Stop in any time, girls. Tom and Nancy are
over every day or so, and they always come to
see me. I was born to mother something, and
as long as the dear Lord saw fit to gather my
babies in his arms, I have to mother the roses,
and all the other babies, little and big, that come
to my garden, don’t you see?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Isn’t she a darling?” exclaimed Ruth, when
they finally left the little white cottage, and
started over to the depot. Polly had coaxed
and coaxed until she had prevailed, and Mrs.
Bardwell had promised to go back with them to
watch the races. The carry-all and its capacity
had been argued over, until Polly said the Admiral
could get one of the village teams and take
Kate and Ruth with him.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly buried her nose in her bouquet, and just
smiled and sighed all at once.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m too full for utterance, as Crullers says
after dinner,” she laughed. “But there’s one
thing certain. I am coming back to that white
cottage again. Wait till we see Aunty Welcome’s
face when she smells these late roses.
She was saying only yesterday that the only
thing she was homesick for were the roses at
Glenwood. Listen. Oh, girls, there’s the train
whistle!”</p>
<p class='c009'>She forgot everything except the dear grandfather
who was on that train, and before the rest
could catch up with her, she started on a run towards
the little red station. It was an excursion
train from Portland, one that connected with the
southern expresses and came up to Eastport in
honor of the regatta. Polly stood up on a
wooden box near the express office, and watched
the outpouring of the crowds, men, women, and
children, all bearing lunch boxes, and all dressed
in holiday and outing clothes. But she could
not see the Admiral anywhere. Finally, somebody
put an arm around her very quietly, and
she turned to find the Admiral smiling down on
her.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, you dear, you precious old dear,” cried
Polly, as she nearly strangled him with her
strong, young embrace. “I never even saw you
leave the train and I watched everyone.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Didn’t you see me riding on the engine so
I’d be the first one off?” the Admiral asked, teasingly,
as he pinched her cheek. “I was up forward
in the smoker, mate. Where did you collect
those freckles? Where are all the other
girls?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here we are, sir,” Sue exclaimed, as they
came up, breathlessly. “Polly wouldn’t wait for
us. She wanted to meet you first of all, so we
let her.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let me?” repeated Polly, but the girls
wouldn’t allow her to finish.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You don’t know how she orders us around,”
Ruth added.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Does she?” The Admiral leaned back his
head, and laughed in his deep, hearty fashion.
“And I am afraid I cannot do a thing about it.
She’s the Commodore, you understand, and if I
had my choice between a kingship and a commodore’s
berth, for real sovereignty, I’d choose the
berth. Where’s the Doctor?”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls caught their breath, and their eyes
fairly shone with interest and subdued excitement.
Polly laid her hands on the Admiral’s
shoulders.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Grandfather dear,” she exclaimed, solemnly,
“do you know him?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, but he’s a smuggler,” added Ted, mischievously.
“He’s just disguised as a doctor of
something.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And he’s addicted to orange marmalade
something terrible, Aunty Welcome says,” Kate
put in.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But he’s got the finest Chili sauce over in the
cave you ever tasted, grandfather,” Polly concluded.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Now, wait one moment, and let me catch my
breath.” The Admiral put out his hands to defend
himself, as the girls all clustered around
him, each one eager to tell about the mystery of
Smugglers’ Isle. “I mean Penrhyn Parmelee
Smith of Washington, D. C.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“So do we,” came a united and positive chorus,
“Washington, D. C., and Eagle Bay. He lives
right next door to us in a cave on an island.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“God bless my heart and soul,” exclaimed the
Admiral, and he took off his glasses to wipe
them, as he always did when he was startled.
“I am sure I have never been surprised but twice
in twenty years. Once when Welcome marched
forcibly into my study and placed this person
with the freckles in my arms, and again to-day.
And yet it may be true. It is quite like Penrhyn
to do such a thing. For a man in his sixty-sixth
year he is the most irresponsible, child-like
creature I ever knew. Polly, did you say orange
marmalade?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly nodded her head emphatically.</p>
<p class='c009'>“He’s had six jars out of the ten we brought
with us,” she replied, solemnly. “Aunty declares
it can’t hurt him one bit, but we don’t believe
he eats it himself. We think he uses it as
bait to catch—what is it, girls?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polypi,” supplemented Ruth. “Polypi.”</p>
<p class='c009'>More than one in the holiday crowd turned at
the hearty laugh that broke from the group
around the stately old Admiral. And suddenly
the girls saw a figure approaching, whose white
suit of flannel and white yachting cap, they recognized
at once.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Admiral,” the Doctor fairly beamed as he
put out his hand. “I salute you.” He smiled
his slow, dry smile that only drew down the corners
of his mouth, and stretched his dimples
more, Polly declared. The Admiral gripped his
hand warmly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, my dear, we went to college together,”
he exclaimed. “Didn’t we, Penny? Some day
when you girls meet one another, and have
grandchildren beside you, perhaps you’ll look
back and understand how we two old fellows feel
this minute; eh, Doctor? I think if I took a
deep breath I could give the grand old yell yet.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t,” cautioned the Doctor. “It won’t do
in Eastport. Polly would hand us over to the
authorities without a qualm. You don’t know
how she rules us.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, yes, I do,” said the Admiral, merrily.
“I’ve heard reports of it already.”</p>
<p class='c009'>The Doctor’s eyebrows lifted.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Marmalade?” he queried, as he took Polly by
one arm, and guided her deftly through the
crowd, the rest following. “I have to eat it, to
keep in their good graces.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“You shall not have another jar after that,”
Polly cried, severely. “Wait till I tell Aunty
Welcome. Where’s Tom with our carry-all?
Oh, I see him, over under the horse chestnuts at
Aunt Cynthy’s.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aunt Cynthy, Polly?” asked the Admiral.
“Who is the lady?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“She’s the mother of the roses,” Polly told
him, mysteriously, as she raised her bouquet for
him to catch a whiff of its fragrance. “Tom’s
aunt. And she’s going back to the Orienta with
us to watch the races. Now, the carry-all won’t
carry all, at all. It will just about carry seven
people.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I have a conveyance here some place,” spoke
up the Doctor. “At least I did have. I can
take two with me. Wait just one minute.”</p>
<p class='c009'>He disappeared around the corner, and came
back driving a trim top carriage.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It’s the hotel keeper’s,” he told them. “I
didn’t know these children were coming to meet
you in state, so I plotted to carry you off myself.
Now, I think I had best take Mrs. Bardwell with
me, and the thinnest one of the girls.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Thinnest!” exclaimed Sue. “Thinnest!
You won’t find any thin people in this club after
six weeks on Lost Island. Crullers, won’t you
please ride with the Doctor, just as a matter of
revenge?”</p>
<p class='c009'>And Crullers, whose one strong point was her
weight, agreed willingly to share the seat with
the doctor and Mrs. Bardwell.</p>
<p class='c009'>It was a gay ride back along the bay shore
road. The Doctor was an old acquaintance of
Aunt Cynthy’s, for he loved flowers and had
often stopped on his way to the post-office to look
at her garden and chat awhile over the white
cross-bar fence.</p>
<p class='c009'>When they arrived at the club house, the whole
place seemed filled with people. All of the summer
colony had turned out in state to do honor
to the regatta, as well as the visitors. Up in the
balcony that overhung the bay, a band played,
and the view out on the water was one the girls
never forgot all their lives.</p>
<p class='c009'>After they had greeted the Commodore and
Mrs. Vaughan, they found chairs at a good angle
of vision, and established themselves around
Aunt Cynthy as chaperon, while the Doctor and
Admiral Page went out on the committee boat.</p>
<p class='c009'>The bay was brilliant in the sparkling morning
sunshine. It was a perfect day. Crullers
said the sky looked higher than usual, and the
clouds drifted lazily up from the southwest.
The great sails were hoisted, and curved out in
great white swells, as the wind filled them.
Orders rang out sharply, as the white-clad sailors
ran here and there, and finally the start was
made at 11:02 sharp. One after another, eight
yachts dipped to the wind, crossed the imaginary
line of starting, and the fifteen-mile race was on.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, Polly, just think how we shall feel when
we start like that,” exclaimed Sue, excitedly.
“Just look at the spread of canvas on that last
sloop. All I can think of is a sheet tacked to a
shingle, by way of comparison. Polly, Polly,
watch her keel over as she catches the wash from
the others. Oh, isn’t it glorious!”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t gush so, child,” said Aunt Cynthy,
placidly. “No sailor talks that way at all. But
’tis a sightly lot of sail boats, and no mistake.
What’s the name of that last one?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Dorothy leaned over her chair, happy and
proud.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s my father’s sloop, the <i>Adventure</i>,” she
replied. “Mamma is with him. They are waving
to us, don’t you see?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“And she’s the only lady in the race,” added
Bess, her eyes full of love and pleasure. “She
loves it the same as we do.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly leaned eagerly forward over the railing.
She had handed the glasses to Kate and Isabel.
Her cap was off, and the breeze blew her curls
back from her forehead. Her lips were half
parted, and her eyes shining like stars as she
watched the stately yachts cross the bay, and
make for the open channel to the sea.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I don’t see how they can sail with a southerly
wind,” Ted said. “Aren’t they going to tack
south as soon as they strike the ocean?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Well, we’re facing more southeast, than
south, aren’t we, Polly?” Ruth asked with one
eye on the sun.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls,” breathed Polly, tensely. “I don’t
care a rap how we’re facing. Watch the race,
and stop your talking.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Spoken like a true sailor,” Aunt Cynthy
echoed, warmly, and they all turned to the railing
to watch the yachts as one by one they slipped
through the channel, and the race was really on.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXIX' class='c006'>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>THE FIRST EVENT</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>It was late in the afternoon before the first
sails of the returning fleet appeared in the channel.
All day long the girls had been honored
guests of the Orienta Club, and had enjoyed
themselves thoroughly. Although both Mrs.
Vaughan and the Commodore were away on
board the <i>Adventure</i>, the other members and
their wives had all heard about the yacht
club over on Lost Island, and were happy
to meet the girls, and see that they had a pleasant
day of it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I think,” said Mrs. Allison, the chairman of
the reception committee for regatta week, “I
think it would be nice for you to meet your competitors
in the race, the girls of the Junior Club.
Let me see how it can be best managed? There
are six, no, eight, in your club, and nine in the
Juniors. Dorothy, will you just press that button
behind you, dear?” She smiled around at
the circle of interested faces. “We will call the
club steward, and you may have a luncheon all
by yourselves and get acquainted.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So it was arranged. Instead of the “girl element,”
as the Doctor laughingly dubbed the
rival clubs, eating luncheon in the large dining-hall
with the other guests and members, they
were given one of the smaller side rooms all to
themselves.</p>
<p class='c009'>Dorothy and Bess acted as official hostesses,
and there was a great cluster of red and white
carnations in a cut glass bowl for a centerpiece,
as red and white were the Orienta colors. Besides
the Vaughan girls, there were seven others,
all daughters of club members, and a delightful
lot of girls, the rest decided.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Only five of us are going to race, though,”
said Connie Evans. “This is my first year at the
seashore. We always go up to the Adirondacks.
Father has a lodge up there, and it seems so
strange not to be closed in by the mountains. I
never sailed a yacht until this season, and mine
is just a ‘cat’ with one sail.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Most of us have catboats,” replied Polly, reassuringly.
“Mine is a ‘cat,’ too, and it is our
first season with boats, so you need not be afraid
of racing against experts. I think it will be
lots of fun. Can you all swim?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No, we can’t, not one,” Bess declared.
“We’ve been sand bathers this summer, mamma
says, and haven’t been in at all above our shoulders.
But I don’t think anything will happen,
do you, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly believes that prevention is earth’s first
law,” laughed Kate, as she saw Polly shake her
head doubtfully. “You had best put a lot of
buoys and life preservers in your boats.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“What time would they have to put them on,”
demanded Sue, “if they just dropped into the
water? I think it would be a good idea if we
wore belts like acrobats when they are training,
with a ring in the back, and a rope fastened to it.
Then if we fell over all we would have to do
would be to hold on to the rope and be hauled in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“They say one of the men from the Station is
to be on guard at the pier all day, and they will
watch from the Point too.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s all right,” Crullers broke in, wistfully,
“but if you fall overboard, you’ll swallow salt
water enough to drown ten cats, before they
have time to get to you; I know from experience.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Let’s not even think it may happen,” said
Polly, happily. “Dorothy, couldn’t we have the
Cup on the table just as a reminder?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Dorothy thought perhaps they might, and
after a consultation with the steward the Junior
Cup was borne in state into the room, and set in
the place of honor at the head of the table between
Dorothy and Polly, the two commodores.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Day after to-morrow,” said Sue, thoughtfully
regarding it, “I shall go home with that
under my arm.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Listen to her, girls,” Kate cried. “And remember
what I prophesy. The <i>Patsy D.</i> will
finish fifth, while the <i>Witch Cat</i> glides over the
line first.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly said nothing. From her seat beside
Dorothy, she looked at the beautiful silver cup
and thought of the race. She had said she was a
good sportsman, as the Admiral wished her to
be, and she was sure she could see the Cup go to
the best yacht without any feeling of envy, but
she almost wished there might have been nine
consolation prizes, for something seemed to tell
her that the <i>Pirate</i> would be the winner. There
was something different about Tom’s big knockabout,
and the daring way that Nancy sailed her,
that left the other boats out in the cold. Nancy
knew the bay well. She was used to every ripple
on it, every turn of the tide, every breath of
wind, every mood and whim that passed over it
like cloud shadows. And she knew, too, the
trim, slender boat as she might some live, tamed
animal that loved her. The Cup would mean a
great deal more to her than to the other girls.
Most of them came from well-to-do families,
and they themselves were happy, normal city-bred
girls, who had had plenty of amusement
and novelty in their lives, while Nancy had spent
all of hers in the little gray cottage that listed to
leeward on Fair Havens’ beach. She had never
even been inside the Orienta until the girls took
her with them, and now that she was there and
had a chance of winning the Cup, she seemed like
another girl. While the rest chatted and laughed,
she sat quietly by, but Polly caught her glance
now and then, and the quick, wistful smile, and
she knew what she was thinking about. Once,
when Dorothy rose to make a little speech, Polly
closed her eyes for a second, in a half-expressed
prayer that if it were right for Nancy to win the
race, she herself might be willing and glad to
have her.</p>
<p class='c009'>“But you’re not,” she told herself, after the
luncheon, when they all went down to the beach
to walk and pass the time. Her chin was raised,
her brown eyes troubled, but she smiled in the
old bright way, and laughed with the rest, even
while she thought: “You’re not glad, Polly
Page, that Nancy has even a little bit of a
chance against the <i>Tidy Jane</i>, and you want the
Cup with all your heart, and you know perfectly
well that if Nancy were not in the race, you could
win it.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, you look just like the Winged Victory
with the wind blowing back your hair and dress
that way,” called Ruth.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I wouldn’t allow such a comparison,” Kate
declared. “Polly, it doesn’t have any head, you
know.”</p>
<p class='c009'>But Polly smiled and waved her hand at them,
and said nothing. Nancy was walking beside
her, and she wondered whether a true sportsman
ever allows sentimental reasons to outweigh his
sense of fairness, whether it was wrong for her
to hope with all her heart that she might win the
race when Nancy had set all her hopes on it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Father says that if I should win the Cup,”
Nancy whispered, happily, as she slipped her
arm through Polly’s, “he’ll build me a knockabout
for next year just like Tom’s. And just
think, if you girls hadn’t let me come into your
club, I couldn’t have raced at all. Aren’t things
queer, Polly?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Curious and curiouser,” smiled back Polly,
remembering the expression of one of her favorite
heroines. The Doctor and Mrs. Bardwell
were walking towards them, with several of the
club members, and they all strolled down to the
pier to watch for the incoming yachts. At just
four-thirty-two by the Doctor’s watch, the first
boat hove in sight around the Point. She was
too far away for them to distinguish her identity,
but hardly had she come about and started on the
new stretch than a larger yacht appeared, following
hard in her wake.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s the <i>Thistle</i>,” cried Dorothy. “I
know the cut of her sails. Oh, dear, I wonder
if the other is papa’s?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“The <i>Thistle’s</i> crowding on more sail, and
gaining,” Polly exclaimed, watching them
through glasses. “She will win!”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Perhaps not,” Mrs. Bardwell rejoined cheerily.
“A race is never won till it’s done, you
know, so hope to the finish.”</p>
<p class='c009'>There were three in sight now, one following
the other as closely and evenly as flying geese,
but still the <i>Thistle</i> strove to the fore. That
first mile up the bay, the girls hardly spoke, as
they leaned over the iron chain that was stretched
along the pier for safety. Their eyes were
bright, their lips half-parted as they tried to
watch every swerve, every manœuvre on the part
of the racers. All at once Bess declared she
knew the first vessel was the <i>Adventure</i> because
there was a lady on deck, and she had waved to
her.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Bess Vaughan,” laughed Polly, “you make
me think of the soldier in the fairy tale who was
a sharpshooter and could aim at a fly on the limb
of a tree five miles off. That boat is a mile and
a half from us now.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just you wait and see,” Bess retorted seriously.
“Maybe it wasn’t her handkerchief, but
I know it’s the <i>Adventure</i>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Oh, girls,” exclaimed Isabel, excitedly.
“See the big one dip sideways.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sideways, child,” Aunt Cynthy repeated,
merrily. “To leeward, dear heart, to leeward.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Even at that distance it appeared as if the
larger yacht had the best chance.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I’m sure they could crowd on more sail,”
Dorothy said, helplessly. “Why don’t they do
it? Tom says there’s always room for another
reef some place on a sloop.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s just what’s happening this minute,”
Kate said. “The <i>Thistle</i> has every inch on she
can carry, and there’s still over a mile to go.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Polly, if that old New York boat should win,
I shall lie down on the sand, and simply,
simply—” Isabel hesitated for lack of an apt
expression, but Ted filled it in for her calmly.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Suspire. And be sure and do it very quietly,
Isabel, so as not to disturb the race.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Isabel laughed good-humoredly with the rest.
The six weeks’ vacation at Lost Island had helped
her in many ways. She would always be more
precise than the other girls, more attentive to the
formalities of life, as Miss Calvert expressed it,
but the hearty, daily companionship and example
set by the rest had filed down many sharp little
points in her character. At Calvert Hall both
Ted and Sue had loved to tease her, but someway
she did not mind it any more. She could
laugh back at them like Kate or Polly now, and
it was rarely that one of “Isabel’s grumbles” was
heard. “Lady Vanitas” she would always be,
for she dearly loved pretty clothes and dainty
things. Sue had expressed her ideas on dress
aptly one day when she had remarked that Isabel
couldn’t even wear a sweater at basket ball
unless it had a fancy border to it and a stickpin
in front. Even to-day the brim of her white
duck yachting cap was pinned jauntily back with
a class pin, while the other girls had turned
theirs down to keep the sun out of their eyes.
It seemed as if Isabel’s collar never wilted under
the hottest sun, her belt never sagged out of
place, and her shoe strings never came untied.
Polly’s eyes always lingered over this member
of her crew approvingly, for she, too, loved neatness
and good taste.</p>
<p class='c009'>All of the club verandas were thronged with
onlookers during that final half hour. Both
boats were hesitating under a vagrant puff of
adverse wind, when suddenly the <i>Adventure</i>
seemed to get under way and slipped steadily
down the course, ahead of her New York rival.
Something white fluttered from her deck, and
all of the girls waved their handkerchiefs wildly
in response. Somewhere back in the crowd on
shore a boy’s voice shouted:</p>
<p class='c009'>“Come along, <i>Adventure</i>, come along there!”</p>
<p class='c009'>The girls laughed, for they knew it must be
Tom, losing his head at the critical moment.
The little sloop held gallantly to the point she
had gained, and glided finally over the imaginary
line that ended the course, while cheer on cheer
rang out from the club house and the shore away
up to the hotel. The cup would remain with the
Orienta Club for another season.</p>
<p class='c009'>After the shouts had at last died away, and
the fussy little committee launch had puffed
back and forth among the returning yachts, the
girls took their leave, and started homeward,
with the Admiral and the Vaughan girls in tow.
The Doctor had undertaken to return Mrs.
Bardwell safely to the house of the roses, and
she declared as she kissed each girl that it had
been the first day she had spent in society in
twenty years.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Bless her,” Polly said tenderly, as she
watched the Doctor tuck the tan lap robe about
her. “She doesn’t know what a nice ‘society’ she
is all by herself.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Admiral Page,” interposed Ted, gravely,
“isn’t Polly sentimental?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“All sailors should be,” rejoined the Admiral,
his eyes twinkling. “Not exactly sentimental,
but full of sentiment, eh, Polly, mate?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Aye, aye, sir,” said Polly, but she was thinking
of something else, thinking of Nancy and
the Junior Cup.</p>
<p class='c009'>Aunty Welcome lived up to her name in the
dinner that she had prepared for her “Marse
Bob.” Polly had declared the dining-room in
the cottage was too small for such a festive occasion,
so dinner was served in state out on the
porch. It was an evening they all remembered
out of a long, happy summer-time. Two small
tables set together made quite a commodious
banquet board. Aunt Cynthy’s bouquets, freshened
up after a good drink of water, made a
pretty centerpiece, with the blue and gold yacht
club pennant waving above it. The Admiral insisted
on Polly taking the head of the table with
Kate, as club chaperon, at the foot.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am merely a guest,” he said, “and will sit
at the Commodore’s right hand, if she will permit.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Long after the sun went down, the little dinner
party went on, until the moon rose, and the
bay lay like a sea of quicksilver and jet below
them. Then they heard the sound of wheels
along the shore road, and Tom’s long cheery
hail, and the Admiral rose to take his leave.</p>
<p class='c009'>“To-morrow,” he told them, “you had better
stay right here and rest. The day’s event is for
twenty-footers and over, and they have a long
course to cover. I’ll run over in the afternoon
and see how you are. Tom or the Captain will
go over the yachts with me, for I want to be sure
everything is shipshape.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Dorothy and Bess had returned with the girls,
and as it was their first night at Lost Island,
there were whisperings and smothered laughter
long after the official “taps” had been sounded.</p>
<p class='c009'>“What’s ‘taps’?” echoed Ted when Bess asked
what they meant. “Just listen.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Out in the kitchen Aunty Welcome’s steady
footfalls could be heard as she moved around,
locking the door, winding the clock, humming a
sweet old camp-meeting tune under her breath,
and finally stepping to the foot of the stairs, to
blow out the bracket lamp that hung there.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You all keep still, now, and go to sleep, and
say your prayers, like good chilluns, you hyar
me?” she asked forcibly. There was a dead
silence, supposed to come only from heavy sleepers.
As soon as she had gone to her own room,
Ted’s head rose from the couch, and she whispered:</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s ‘taps’.”</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 id='chXX' class='c006'>CHAPTER XX</h2>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c007'>
<div>THE WINNER OF THE JUNIOR CUP</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>They took the Admiral’s advice the next day,
and rested. Dorothy and Bess were anxious to
look over the shells and specimens the girls had
found during the summer, and helped arrange
them for the home going the end of the week.
The two shell curtains that Kate and Isabel had
made were completed, and ready to be shipped
by express, with some of the heavier shells.</p>
<p class='c009'>Crullers had surprised everybody by finding
out a new way to use the small shells in decoration.
She had had quite a taste for drawing and
applied design at school, and now had glued the
shells to heavy cardboard, after first tracing out
a decorative design. The effect was surprisingly
unique and attractive. Ted had looked at
the result with a speculative eye, but she was generous
with her praise, and frank spoken.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I never thought old Crullers had such a
knack in her fingertips,” she said.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Didn’t you?” Polly asked, smiling. “I always
knew that she loved beautiful things, and
when you do you’ll generally make something
beautiful yourself to add to it, don’t you know?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“I know what you mean,” Ted agreed, pushing
back her red curls restlessly. “Fraulein
called it the personal quality in art, the gift of
expression. What was that old painter’s name
who used such a wonderful red in his pictures,
and when he died they found it was his heart’s
blood he had been painting with. I guess that’s
personal expression, isn’t it? I haven’t any,
Miss Calvert says. I haven’t any artistic sense.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We all have it,” Polly insisted. “You cannot
help but have it, because it’s the gift of yourself.
What do you like to do more than anything
else in the world?”</p>
<p class='c009'>Ted meditated, then her face brightened.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Travel,” she said. “Walk, ride, swim, run,
sail, do anything as long as I’m going some
place.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly laughed heartily.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s what the Captain says about you, that
you won’t stay put,” she said.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Captain had come down to the island in
the afternoon and gone over the racing boats
carefully with Tom and the Admiral. Finally
they had pronounced everything “fit,” as the
Captain said, and started to go when Polly asked
for an opinion as to which one stood the best
chance of winning the race.</p>
<p class='c009'>“With a fair wind and tide, anyone of them is
liable to win,” the Captain declared flatly.
“They’re the knowingest lot of boats on the bay,
anyhow. Start them properly, and lash their
tillers, and I’d be surprised if they didn’t start
and race by themselves.”</p>
<p class='c009'>There were light appetites at breakfast the
next morning.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Mah sakes alive,” protested Aunty, “how you
spec you going to win any race and old silver
cup an’ saucer, lessen you get good inside linings
so your ribs don’t stick together, honeys?”</p>
<p class='c009'>But it was no use. Chocolate and toast was
the repast, and then they dressed for the race.
The start was to be at ten from the Orienta.
Bess and Dorothy crossed the bay on the <i>Tidy
Jane</i> with Polly, then took their own yacht.
The girls had precious little to say to each other.
Just before the moment of starting, Commodore
Vaughan made them a little speech from the
deck of the committee launch, commending them
highly for their ardor in outdoor sport, and the
spirit of good fellowship that existed among
them all.</p>
<p class='c009'>“There is a double emulation in all this,” he
remarked. “This is a race between two clubs,
and a race between individuals as well. You
may beat the Juniors, or the Juniors may beat
the Polly Page Club, but besides that you will
win or lose from each other, even as members of
the same club. I wish you a fair wind and all
success.” He glanced at his watch, hesitated,
and just on the touch of the hands at ten, gave
the signal for the start.</p>
<p class='c009'>Sue was the first to gain. For some reason
Polly and Nancy blundered in the get-away. It
looked as if each had tried to give the other one
the advantage in the start, but as they all slipped
down the bay they looked like a flock of white
winged sea birds, flying low.</p>
<p class='c009'>South they sailed towards Lost Island and
Aunty Welcome came out on the porch and
waved a tablecloth at them excitedly, so they
would feel encouraged. The committee boat
puffed behind, and picked up two of the Juniors
at the end of the first mile, when they became
confused over tacking around the small islands.
Nancy was ahead now with the <i>Pirate</i>, and
Kate’s <i>Witch Cat</i> second, with the <i>Nixie</i> pushing
her way steadily towards them. When they
passed Smugglers’ Island, the Doctor was waiting
for them in his motor boat, and the <i>Natica</i>
joined the committee yacht as a sort of marine
rear guard.</p>
<p class='c009'>To Polly the first five miles seemed like a
dream. She could feel the <i>Tidy Jane</i> spring to
the touch of the waves, and her heart seemed to
leap with it. When they neared the Point, she
saw the white-clad crew come down from the station,
and caught the hearty cheer they sent ringing
over the water to the girl sailors.</p>
<p class='c009'>Nancy hardly stopped long enough to wave
back at them. The turn in the course came at
the end of the Point, and she hardly thought
about it, so intent was she on speed, until all at
once Polly came steadily up behind her, passed
Ted and Sue, Kate, and the others, and made the
tack with hardly any pause.</p>
<p class='c009'>“That’s Polly’s best trick in yachting,” Ted
thought, with a big throb of admiration. “She
sees it coming, and is ready to let go her main
sheet on the instant, and come about. And
then she goes after the cup a-flying.”</p>
<p class='c009'>It was true. In that last joyous spurt ahead,
all thought of Nancy left her. There was only
the beautiful stretch of sky, and wind and waves
calling to her. Her cap fell off in the bottom
of the cock pit, and she lost her hair ribbon.
The wind caught her long curls and blew them
about as it pleased, as she leaned forward, keen
eyed, intent on every point that needed watching.
And finally, away down the bay, she
caught the sound of cheers and wondered what
the matter was.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It must be Nancy catching up with me,”
she thought, but one name on the wind caught
her ear, one name shouted over and over and
over.</p>
<p class='c009'>“The <i>Tidy Jane</i>, the <i>Tidy Jane</i>, the <i>Tidy
Ja-a-ane!</i>”</p>
<p class='c009'>How they shouted it, and dwelt on it, and
hung to it, until the echoes flung it back from
the big bluffs above the shore, but all at once
something happened. Polly did not realize it
herself, until she caught sight of Nancy’s face,
brave and sweet, but deadly white.</p>
<p class='c009'>Not twenty feet away from the <i>Tidy Jane</i>,
the prow of the knockabout came about, as
Nancy tried her best to overtake her rival.
Down on the shore they could hear Tom’s voice
shouting,</p>
<p class='c009'>“Come along, Nance, come along in.”</p>
<p class='c009'>To Nancy it was the final touch of the spur.
She forgot Polly, forgot everything, except the
fame of the <i>Pirate</i>, and the Junior Cup. She
measured the end of the course with a steady,
practiced eye, and her distance from the <i>Tidy
Jane</i>. Nobody but Polly saw how she did it,
and even she did not understand the craft
of it. It had been a fragment of the Captain’s
teaching long ago.</p>
<p class='c009'>“When the wind and the tide’s agin your making
a certain point, jam her down hard into the
teeth of it, and give your tiller two sharp turns,
hard to port then hard to starboard, and she’ll
come up handsomely.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Straight for the pier the <i>Pirate</i> turned, and
then came about, and made for the end of the
course.</p>
<p class='c009'>The other yachts were strung out behind, Dorothy
beating up closely, Connie Evans and Sue
last of all, and the rest dotting the bay between
the <i>Pirate</i> and the <i>Tidy Jane</i>.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly saw the way Nancy had caught up to
her, and for the minute she held her breath. All
at once she knew that she was going to lose the
race, and the strangest part of it was, she could
see Nancy win, and feel a great wave of joy
over it. As the <i>Pirate’s</i> boom passed her, she
slackened her own main sheet, turned her head
and smiled at Nancy, and the first cheer that went
up for the winner of the Junior Cup, was when
Polly stood up, and waved her hand with a clear,</p>
<p class='c009'>“Hurrah! Hurrah!”</p>
<p class='c009'>Tom promptly stood on his head, as the shouts
rang out over the bay, and shore. The Admiral
himself helped Nancy out as if she had been a
queen.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You did handsomely, little girl, handsomely,”
he said.</p>
<p class='c009'>Polly was hardly a minute behind her, and as
she too reached the Orienta pier, and tossed her
rope up to the willing hands, she threw her arms
around the victor.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am <i>so</i> glad you’ve won, Nancy,” she said.
“You don’t know how glad.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“So am I,” answered Nancy, softly, her
glance seeking one face out of all the crowd.
“Where’s father?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Here I be, mate!” called the old skipper, joyously,
and right there before the crowd, he swung
Nancy up in his arms, and kissed her proudly.</p>
<p class='c009'>Just then the Commodore himself appeared,
and he bore the fateful cup. Blushing, and with
downcast lashes, Nancy listened to the presentation
speech. She couldn’t quite catch it all, but
there was one expression that lingered. He
called her a daughter of the old Pine Tree State,
who had borne off a trophy that should remind
her not only of a deserved victory but also of the
friendship and fellowship of the sister club, the
Orienta Juniors.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Neatly put,” said the old Admiral, as they
journeyed back home, and for the first time he
was a guest on the <i>Tidy Jane</i>. “Nancy, you’re
a conquering heroine, my dear, like your namesake,
Nancy Lee, and the Captain, and Polly and
I are proud of you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>When they reached Lost Island, the Doctor
detained Polly a moment at the landing, while
the others went on to the house. “I have a
trophy for the second in the race, one that is
given jointly by Father Neptune and myself,”
he said, as he reached his hand into his pocket
mysteriously, then held it out to Polly. On the
open palm lay one of the pearls from Ceylon.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Just in memory of many happy days and
many jars of marmalade,” he smiled, as Polly
took it, speechless and radiant. “And I want
to tell you a secret. You accused me, Miss
Polly, of using marmalade as bait. But I
never did anything of the kind. Don’t laugh,
now. What I did do was to eat it and imbibe
courage and peace and a settled happiness
from the atmosphere of Lost Island, so that I
have triumphed. I am going back to Washington
this week myself. I have found the
polypi!”</p>
<p class='c009'>Two days remained to the girls, but they were
so taken up in packing, and preparing Aunty
Welcome for the trip back South, that they
passed swiftly. Saturday morning the carry-all
bore them over to Eastport, but it had to make
two trips, and each time it stopped at Fair
Havens, where Mrs. Carey and Nancy said goodbye
to the girls, and the Captain waved them a
salute.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It has been the best summer I ever had,”
Nancy cried, as she shook hands with them all,
and kissed the girls and Aunty too. “You’ve
been so good to me, and given me such a happy
time, that I just can’t thank you.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“We’ve got the Junior Cup up on the parlor
mantel,” added Tom proudly, “right under
mother’s framed marriage certificate, and
father’s model of his first schooner. And Nancy
sticks a bouquet of fresh posies in it every morning,
girls.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Nancy blushed radiantly, and kissed Polly a
second time.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Sometimes I wonder if you let me win,” she
whispered. “You held up a little I thought,
there at the very last.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Did I?” laughed Polly. “It was because I
was so glad and surprised when I saw the old
<i>Pirate</i> nosing her way past me, that was all.
Goodbye, dear. Don’t forget us.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Fair wind and tide to you wherever you sail,
mates,” the Captain called; and there were tears
in the girls’ eyes as they watched the last view
of the little shore cottage, and the two figures
there at the garden gate, the Captain with the
wind blowing back his curly hair, as sturdy, as
tall, and as storm-proof as one of the pines up
on Bald Mountain.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Girls, it’s been the happiest summer I’ve ever
had,” cried Ruth as she put her head on Polly’s
shoulder, and wept.</p>
<p class='c009'>But Polly laughed in her old cheery way.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Cheer up,” she said. “It won’t be the last.
Turn around, like a good fellow, and wave a
salute back at the old flag pole, and to Nancy,
bless her.”</p>
<p class='c009'>So they all stood up in the old carry-all at that
last turn in the old shore road, and solemnly,
hopefully, lovingly saluted the last glimpse of
Lost Island, and the winner of the Junior Cup.</p>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 56834 ***</div>
</body>
<!-- created with ppgen.py 3.56n on 2018-03-24 18:11:20 GMT -->
</html>
|
