A DAMP ADVENTURE
The Harley shack had never been a very fine building, but it had
once been a home and, though the four little Blossoms were too
small to realize it, it was the sight of the forlorn chimney and
fireplace, the broken express wagon and the broken bits of
furniture that made them feel sad.
"Why do I want to cry, Mother?" Meg kept asking. "What makes me
sorry?"
"'Cause we don't know where Mrs. Harley went," asserted Twaddles
wisely.
"That's it, darling," said Mother Blossom tenderly.
From the Harley shack, the Blossoms went down to the shore and, by
using Father Blossom's field glasses, were able to see the two
islands that lay to the north of Apple Tree Island and which,
rumor said, were used by smugglers. But the children could not
forget the Harleys, and as they continued their walk around the
island they discussed the mysterious disappearance of Mrs. Harley
and the children.
"I wish we could find 'em!" said Meg earnestly. "Wouldn't that be
fine, Bobby?"
"Yes. But how can we?" replied the practical Bobby. "They aren't
on the island, and we are. Perhaps they went to China."
"I'm so sorry for Mr. Harley," struck in Dot. "Do you remember his
little boys, Bobby?"
Bobby wasn't sure.
"I don't think I do," he answered cautiously. "If one of 'em wore
a blue sailor suit with a red tie and the other had long pants,
then I do; I'll ask Mother."
"My dear little son!" exclaimed Mother Blossom, laughing when
Bobby asked her if the Harley boys wore such clothes. "They were
little fellows, about the size of Twaddles--how could one of them
wear long trousers? And you were eight months old, just a little
baby. You are thinking of some other boys you have seen."
Because Father Blossom had insisted that Mother Blossom was to
enjoy a real vacation, there was very little unpacking to be done.
The Winthrops had left their bungalow fully furnished, and though
there was no one on the island to help with the housework, Mother
Blossom declared that if they all helped her there would not be
much to do. In a few days they felt very much at home and the
children voted Apple Tree Island quite as delightful as Brookside
Farm.
"Where you going, Dot?" Twaddles called one morning soon after
they had arrived.
"I was going to look for you," said Dot importantly. "We're all
going over on the ten o'clock boat--Captain Jenks' boat, you know.
Mother has some letters to mail, and she wants us to take the wash
over, that is if Captain Jenks knows any one in Greenpier who will
wash and iron dresses. Meg and Bobby are down on the wharf with
the basket now."
"Well, well, how are all my friends?" Captain Jenks greeted them
when his boat came chugging up to the wharf and he saw a patient
row of small people waiting to go on board. "Want to come now, or
shall I stop on the return trip?"
"We'd like to sail back with you," aid Bobby. "Mother thought you
didn't go any farther up."
"Special trip this morning," answered the captain. "Have to stop
at the island north of Harley's shack to see if any one's
violating game laws. I'm a little of everything 'round here--sheriff
and warden and lake captain. You can come, and welcome."
"We have to take care of the twins," Bobby informed him as the
four little Blossoms marched aboard over the gangplank Captain
Jenks let down especially for them. "Meg and I are old enough to
go to town but Dot and Twaddles are only four."
"What is in the basket?" asked the kind captain, fearing an
explosion from Twaddles, who was furious at this public reference
to his age.
"Oh, that's the wash!" said Bobby. "Mother wants to know if any
one in Greenpier will wash and iron clothes?"
"Four of you going specially on that errand, I suppose," chuckled
the captain, "and not one of you remembered what you were going
for. Sure I know some one who will wash 'em and iron 'em up in
great style and be glad of the job. Mrs. Clayton's her name. Here,
Bobby, you don't have to get off--I'll catch that basket."
Captain Jenks took a long pole with a hook on one end of it that
he used to hook fruit baskets and crates and bundles with, and
neatly drew the clothes basket on board. Mother Blossom had tied
the clothes in securely and put paper over the top, knowing,
perhaps, that the basket was destined to have an adventurous
journey.
"Are there smugglers on the island?" Bobby asked the captain, as
the motor-boat churned up the water swiftly, and they left Apple
Tree Island behind.
"Well, no, I wouldn't say that," replied the captain. "But we've
had it reported that people living in Reville, that's a town up
Sunset Lake almost opposite Kidd's Island where we're going, have
seen fires on the beach at night. It's closed season now for the
birds, and if any one is shooting 'em, we want to know it."
"Are you a policeman?" asked Twaddles in awe.
"Something like it," admitted the captain. "Leastways, I'm a
deputy sheriff. Pretty place, isn't it?"
The boat was approaching the island, and it was indeed a pretty
place. It was smaller than Apple Tree Island and had fewer trees,
but it was completely covered with thick green grass brightly
starred over with daisies. And not a single daisy grew on Apple
Tree Island!
"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Meg softly. "How lovely! See, Dot, millions
and millions of daisies."
"You can pick some while I take a look around," said Captain
Jenks, fastening the boat with an iron chain and hook to a ring
sunk in a wooden post. There was no wharf because no one lived on
the island to build one and very few boats came there anyway.
Bobby and Twaddles stuck close to the captain's heels, but Meg and
Dot determined to get some daisies to take home to their mother.
They worked busily, and by the time the others were back from
their inspection of the little open shed which was the only
shelter on the island, the two girls had large bouquets.
"Were there any smugglers?" asked Dot half-fearfully.
"That's a silly story, that smuggler stuff," pronounced Captain
Jenks. "To my mind a man who breaks the game laws is worse than a
smuggler. We found the ashes of his campfire and this." He held up
a pair of bird wings.
"The poor little bird!" exclaimed Meg compassionately. "How can
any one shoot a bird!"
"It's all right sometimes, isn't it?" Bobby insisted. "Jud goes
gunning, Meg, you know he does."
"I've nothing to say against it when the season is open," said the
captain.
Captain Jenks seemed saddened by the discovery of the pretty,
spotted wings, but when he had put them away in a little box in
the cabin he cheered up and admired the daisies.
"You'll find string in that toolchest," he directed them. "Going
to make two bunches? That's right--I don't like to see flowers
crowded even after they're picked."
The two bunches were tied to the rail as a safe place and one in
which they would not be easily crushed. The motor-boat--by the
way, its name was The Sarah, painted in green letters; you haven't
been told that before, have you?--was now chugging down the lake
toward Greenpier, and Bobby and Meg were taking their first lesson
in managing the wheel. Twaddles had found a compass in the
toolchest and was having a wonderful time playing with that. Dot
thought the time had come to put an idea of hers into practice.
"They look wilted," she told herself, eyeing the daisies with
disfavor. "What they need is water."
So this mischievous child took a long string and tied it to each
bunch of daisies; then she held it in the middle and allowed them
to trail in the water.
The Sarah was almost at Greenpier before Meg glanced toward Dot
and saw what she was doing.
"Dot Blossom!" she cried, rushing toward her. "You'll spoil 'em.
Oh, Bobby, look what Dot's doing to the daisies!"
In her anxiety to get the daisies wet, Dot had climbed to the top
of the rail, and when Meg shouted at her so suddenly she was
startled. She tried to catch the rail, missed it, and tumbled into
the water.
Dear, dear, there was a hubbub, you may be sure. Luckily the boat
was in very shallow water and a man sitting on the wharf jumped in
and had Dot in his arms almost as soon as she splashed. He was Mr.
Harley and he easily walked ashore. The water was only as high as
his waist.
"You're not drowned," he kept telling Dot, who was sadly
frightened and crying bitterly. "You're only wet, Sister."
"Take her up to Mrs. Clayton's," ordered Captain Jenks. "We were
headed for there, and she always has a big fire on account of the
ironing. She'll know what to do."
Apparently Mr. Harley knew where Mrs. Clayton lived, for he strode
away with Dot in his arms. Captain Jenks, Meg and Bobby and
Twaddles had to run to keep up with him. He stopped before a
whitewashed cottage with a woman ironing in the large front room.
"Can you dry this baby off and give her something hot to drink?"
asked Captain Jenks, and Mrs. Clayton held out her arms for Dot.
The little girl was indignant at being called "baby" but her teeth
were chattering from cold and fright, and the hot cocoa Mrs.
Clayton presently gave her tasted very good. She went off to sleep
after that, wrapped in a warm blanket, and woke to find her
clothes dry and ironed.
Mrs. Clayton was a stout, comfortable, jolly kind of woman who did
washing and ironing for the Summer people on the various islands
and in the shore towns that bordered Sunset Lake. She promised to
have Mother Blossom's clothes ready a week from that day, and the
children trotted back to the boat, Dot none the worse for her
experience. They knew no one at home would be worried, though Dot
had slept two hours, because they were not expected back till the
afternoon boat.
"We had cocoa and jelly sandwiches while you were asleep,"
Twaddles informed his sister. "And Mrs. Clayton has a ship carved
out of a piece of bone!"
At the wharf they found Mr. Harley and Chris Smith, the boathouse
man, and Captain Jenks, all very glad to see them and glad that
Dot's ducking had not been worse. The captain had several other
passengers to another island on this trip.
"I'll be over in a day or two," said Mr. Harley, as the children
boarded The Sarah. "Might as well look around the place once in a
while."
Father Blossom was waiting on their wharf when they reached Apple
Tree Island, and his first question was whether they had found
some one to do the washing to save Mother Blossom from attempting
too much.
"Yes, and she's already started," cried Bobby eagerly. "She washed
and ironed Dot!"