BAD NEWS
The dripping Margy was quickly surrounded by a laughing, congratulating
group, but even as Polly put her sweater around her, she was wondering
about Ella Mooney. Had anything happened to her?
There was no time to ask questions, for there were still three races to
be decided. Jess and Artie and Ward were eager to win a prize, and the
"fat" class was the next event scheduled.
Just about the plumpest children you ever saw were entered in that
race. The mayor of Sunrise Beach was heard to remark that it showed
what the sea air could do--he gave the beach all the credit for the
fat, healthy children who pranced out on the platform and announced
that they were ready.
"Just as though Ward wasn't always fat!" the justly indignant Jess
exclaimed. "He's fat in River Bend, the same as here."
At the word, the fat youngsters started, and in their way they were
quite as funny as the novice class. They knew something of the swimming
strokes, but in their desire to win they abandoned skill in favor of
speed and in three seconds most of them were floundering hopelessly.
Ward paid no attention to any one. Desperately he struggled on, his
breath coming in gasps, his face red with his exertions.
"All I thought about," he told his comrades afterward, "was keeping a
straight line."
This was an excellent thought, in fact, for most of the swimmers went
far out of their course and one ambitious competitor actually drifted
out beyond the safety mark and had to be rescued by a watchful life
guard.
"Go to it, Ward!" Fred shouted suddenly. "Straight ahead! Speed it up!"
Ward had been sure that he could not do another stroke, but now he
opened his eyes and obediently "speeded up." A volley of cheers greeted
his effort.
"Here, kid, you don't have to go on forever," some one said, reaching
down and grabbing him by his belt. "You've won the race--let it go at
that, can't you?"
"Gee! Did I win?" Ward's astonishment made his listeners laugh. "Do I
get the prize?"
He was assured that he did, and when he saw Fred and Artie the
precious gold piece was already in his hand.
"Have you heard about Ella Mooney?" some one in the crowd behind him
was saying. "She----"
The rest was lost in the bellow of the announcer's megaphone. The
floaters' race was to be run off.
"Wouldn't it be lovely if I should win, too?" said Jess, and they all
agreed that it would.
Mrs. Marley thought that a floaters' race sounded "so peaceful," but
the actual race was not exactly to be described in those words. True
they started peacefully enough, half a dozen children floating gently
on their backs, arms spread out as though the rolling swells were
comfortable pillows. But alas, none was an experienced floater, and
most of them were used to depending on some kind of water wings. One
little girl sank from sight almost as soon as she started and was
pulled out, choking and sputtering. Jess managed to keep floating for
perhaps three minutes longer, and then, much to her surprise, her
head went down and her feet went up, as feet sometimes will when one
is floating, and the next thing she knew, she came up, far behind the
others and feeling as though she had swallowed most of the ocean.
"Never mind, you floated lots longer than you ever did before," Margy
told her in an attempt to be consoling.
Polly was aware that there was a great deal of whispering going on
among the people on the bank, and an undercurrent of excitement that
was vaguely disquieting. But the last race was now to be decided and
Artie was so confident that he would win that he really infected the
others with his optimism.
"That will make seven dollars for the Riddle Club fund," he announced,
as he went to take his place. "The five dollars Margy won and the
dollar Ward won and then mine."
It was impossible to argue with any one who was so sure of victory, and
Polly found herself wondering what Artie would say or do if he did not
win. She hated to see him so eager, for his disappointment would be
correspondingly great.
"They say her father is almost crazy," a woman in a bright pink dress
said clearly.
"Well, you can't blame him--Ella is all he has, you know," another
voice chimed in.
Then the crowd moved closer to the mark where the swimmers were to come
in and Polly heard no more.
"Goodness, I hope nothing has happened to Ella Mooney," she thought
nervously. "Is that Artie? Why, he is leading--I do believe he is
ahead!"
Artie might have retorted "Certainly I'm ahead!" He was not at all
surprised to find himself in the lead. He had meant to be there.
But his plans were upset by the frantic appeal of Albert Holmes. He
had not distinguished himself in the floaters' class--in fact he had
doubled up like a jackknife and dropped out early in the contest, but
nothing daunted, he had entered the race for beginners.
"I'm drowning!" gurgled Albert. "I'm drowning--Artie, what'll I do?"
Here he swallowed a generous mouthful of water and began to cry, half
from fright and half from the unpleasant taste of the salty water.
Artie was exasperated. It was bad enough to have to swim his head off,
so he thought irritably, without being called upon to stage a rescue.
Still, he could not very well let Albert drown. He wished some one else
would look after him, but the other children were intent on winning the
race and they paid no attention to Albert's moanings. They had troubles
of their own.
"I suppose I'll have to help him," groaned Artie. "I never can do
anything I want to do. Hush up!" he added rudely to Albert, who was
beginning to thrash around wildly. "If you don't keep still, I'll leave
you where you are."
Artie would rescue Albert, if no one else would, but he was not the boy
to let a little thing like that interfere with his first and foremost
intention. He still planned to win the race.
"Keep kicking your feet," he ordered Albert and, with a sudden backward
sweep of his arm, he grabbed the astonished lad by his hair.
The crowd laughed and cheered, but Artie paid no attention. He knew
what he meant to do, and with grim determination he forged ahead,
swimming a queer, one-sided stroke and dragging Albert along by main
force.
It is doubtful if Artie could have won, had not the other swimmers
allowed their attention to be distracted by his performance. But
they were so interested to see what he was doing and Albert made so
much noise, too, that they turned their heads and one or two stopped
swimming and floated, the better to watch.
"Great guns, he's done it!" Fred cried, a few minutes later. "Artie's
won the race!"
And Artie, "I told you so" in every line of his expressive face, held
up Albert with one hand and took his gold piece with the other, quite
as though he was accustomed to doing double duty.
"I said I was going to win," was all the comment he made when the
other members of the Riddle Club descended upon him to congratulate him.
"Carrie Pepper is looking for you!" a girl in the crowd called to
Polly, as, the races over, the audience began to break up and drift
away.
"Well, you needn't look for Carrie Pepper," Fred said crossly, but
Polly stopped him.
"Here comes Carrie now," she said. "I wonder what she wants?"
Carrie burst into speech as soon as she caught sight of the Riddle
Club, all gathered in a bunch.
"Have you heard about Ella Mooney?" she cried.
Polly took a step forward.
"I heard people talking," she said anxiously. "Has anything happened to
Ella?"
"Well, you know I thought there was something the matter as soon as I
heard Captain Mooney didn't come to serve as a judge for the races,"
stated Carrie with evident enjoyment. She did so like to be the
first to tell a piece of news. "Ella Mooney," went on Carrie, "has
disappeared. She's gone, and no one can find her. They think she may
have been kidnaped and will be held for ransom."
"Oh, my!" squeaked Artie, but Polly was too distressed to speak for a
moment.
"What ever will her father do?" asked Margy. "He thinks there never was
a girl like Ella."
"Is she really lost?" Polly said. "How long has she been gone?"
Carrie was now surrounded by a circle of interested faces, for her
voice had carried and the mention of Ella Mooney's name always held
interest for any of the Sunrise Beach folk.
"She's been missing since last night," said Carrie importantly. "That
is, since yesterday afternoon, really. Her father saw her at lunch, and
he hasn't laid eyes on her since. She took her pony out of the stable,
and they found that tied to the post back of the post-office. But Ella
has completely disappeared."
"How awful," said Polly. "I don't see what can have happened to her.
You don't suppose any one thinks for a minute that she really has been
kidnaped?"
"Her father does," said a man in the listening crowd. "I heard this
morning he was going to have bills printed, offering a reward. There's
Jim Collins now--I'll bet he is posting 'em."
The eyes of all followed the direction of his pointing finger. A man
in overalls was pasting something on a telegraph pole across the road.
With one accord, the crowd surged over to read the placard.
"It's offering one hundred dollars reward for information!" ran the
quick whisper. "One hundred dollars for information that will lead to
finding Ella Mooney. The Captain must be just about wild, for Ella is
the apple of his eye."
Jubilant as the Riddle Club were over their success in the swimming
matches, the news that Ella Mooney had disappeared saddened them and
made them anxious. They knew that she had never spent a night away from
home, and Polly, especially, could picture her vividly as lonely and
frightened, perhaps held against her will by strange and cruel people
who would demand a large sum of money for her return.
Little else was talked of that night, and the next morning Captain
Mooney drove up in his car to the Meeker Cottage and asked if they had
seen Ella the day she disappeared.
"She was so fond of you and she talked so much about the Riddle Club,"
the Captain said, "that I thought she might have ridden over to see
you. I never knew her to leave the grounds without letting me know
where she was going, but I had a conference that afternoon with several
business men and I suppose Ella did not like to interrupt me."
Captain Mooney looked as though he had spent a sleepless night, and
he went away as soon as he found that the Riddle Club could give him
no news of his missing daughter. He did drink the coffee Mrs. Marley
insisted on giving him, however, and he mentioned that he had heard of
the three prizes won the day before. He said that Ella would be glad to
know the Riddle Club had captured them.
"You wouldn't think he'd even remember any of us won a race, would
you?" said Polly. "Every one says he is the kindest man. But what do
you suppose can have happened to Ella?"
The boys and girls did not feel like going swimming that morning, but
they went down to the beach and were idly picking up shells when the
put-put of a motor boat sounded close inshore.
"That's Larry," Fred said. "I wonder where he is going? He chases up
and down the coast exactly like a delivery wagon."
"It must be fun to sail in that old boat," said Jess idly.
Just then Larry hailed them gayly. He was a middle-aged man, known
to half the town and all the fishermen. No one had ever seen Larry
ill-tempered or in a hurry.
"Want a little trip?" Larry called cheerily. "I'm going up to Glen
Haven and back--won't take long."
"Let's go!" urged Margy. "Mother won't care."
"Run down to the wharf and I'll take you on," Larry yelled
good-naturedly.
They scampered for the old wharf some yards farther down the beach, and
when the shabby motor boat came alongside, dropped one by one into the
tiny hold.
"Too nice a day to stay on land," said Larry, whose weather-beaten
face was wrinkled with smiles. "I have to take a picnic party out this
afternoon, and I'm running up the coast for some special supplies."
"Where's the picnic going?" asked Polly, more as a reply than from
curiosity.
"Blackberry Island--prettiest place around here," Larry answered. "If
you haven't been there, that's one place you ought to see."
"Girls, why don't we have a picnic of our own?" said Jess eagerly. "Why
don't we go to Blackberry Island?"