A DOUBLE RACE
Amy Drew scoffed at the thought of Belle Ringold's tale of trouble for
the "bungalowites" being true.
"She is always hatching up something unpleasant," she told the neighbor
who had spoken of Mr. Ringold's claim to a part of Station Island. "We
know her. She comes from our town."
But little Henrietta continued to tell anybody who would listen that
_she_ owned a part of the island and expected to take possession of the
golf links almost any day. The funny little thing, however, was very
generous in inviting people to remain on "her island," no matter what
happened.
"Something has got to be done about that child," said Jessie, sighing.
"I can't control her. She does say the most awful things. She has no
manners at all!"
"He, he," chuckled Amy. "Hen was built without any controller. I
wouldn't worry about her, Jess. She'll come out all right."
"I hope she comes out of the water all right," murmured her chum,
starting again after the very lively little girl who occasionally made
dashes for the surf as though she proposed to go right out to sea.
But for one person Henrietta had some concern. That was Mrs. Norwood.
She thought Jessie's mother was a most wonderful person. And when Mrs.
Norwood had a chair and umbrella brought to the sands and sat down
within sight of Henrietta, the older girls had some opportunity of
having a little amusement with the college boys.
"Come on," Darry Drew said. "This staying inshore is no fun. Beat you
to the raft, girls, and give you ten yards start."
"O-oh! You can't!" cried his sister, dashing at once for the sea.
"Hold on! Hold on!" commanded Darry. "I don't believe you even know how
long ten yards is. Both you girls go in and stand even with that pile
yonder. You are headed for the raft. You see the life saver beyond it,
I hope?"
Amy made a face at him, settled her bathing cap more firmly, and looked
at Jessie.
"Ready, Jess?" she asked.
"We'll just beat them good," declared her chum. "They always think they
can do things so much better than us girls."
"'We' girls," corrected Amy, giggling.
"'We' or 'us'--it doesn't so much matter, as long as we win the race,"
said Jessie.
"All ready out there?" demanded Darry.
"They're edging out farther," observed Burd Alling. "It wouldn't matter
if you gave them a mile start; they'd take more if they could. Give 'em
an inch and they'll take an ell," he quoted.
"You don't know what an ell is," scoffed his friend.
"It's something you put on a house after you think you've got all the
rooms you'll ever need. I know," declared Burd, grinning.
"Come on out!" retorted Darry. "Cut the repartee. You have got to swim
your little best, for those two girls are no slow-pokes."
"You've said something," agreed Burd. "Shoot! I am ready, Gridley."
"Huh!" exclaimed his chum. "You have even forgotten your Spanish War
history."
"Shucks! They change history so fast now you don't more than learn
one phase than you have to forget it and learn some other fellow's
'hindsight' of important events. The only way to get history straight,"
declared the philosophical Burd, "is to be Johnny-on-the-spot and see
things happen."
"Now!" shouted Darry to the girls.
The four splashed in, the girls starting with a breast stroke and the
boys having to run for some distance until the sea was deep enough to
enable them to swim. The water beyond the ruffle of surf was almost
calm. At least, the waves did not break, but heaved in, in smooth
rollers. As Amy had said: The sea was taking deep-breathing exercises.
Just now, however, she was not making jokes. The two girls were doing
their best to win the race. Darry was a long, rangy fellow, and his
over-hand stroke was wonderful. Burd Alling--"tubby" as he was--was an
excellent swimmer. The girls started with a dash, however, and they
kept up their speed for some rods before either felt any fatigue.
The diving raft was a long distance out from the beach, because the
sandy bottom here sloped very gradually. This part of the island was
ideal for swimming and bathing. If it was finally proved that the old
Padriac Haney estate belonged to little Henrietta, she would control
the longest strip of beach on the island.
Amy flashed a glance over her shoulder to see how close they were
pursued, and almost lost stroke.
"Come on!" panted Jessie. "Don't let them beat you."
"Ain't--go-ing--to," gasped her chum, in four short breaths.
They were more than half way to the raft, and it really seemed as
though the stronger--and longer--arms of the two college boys were
not aiding them to overtake the Roselawn girls. The latter began to
congratulate each other upon this--with glances. They did not waste any
more breath in speech.
Rising high to change stroke, Jessie turned on her side and did the
over-hand. It heaved her ahead of her chum for a yard or so; and it
likewise enabled her to see over the raft. The raft chanced to be
deserted, nor were there any swimmers between her and the boat of the
lifeguard beyond the raft.
The man in the boat suddenly stood up. He began waving his arms and
shouting. As he was looking shoreward Jessie thought he must be
cheering her and her chum on. She forged still farther ahead of Amy,
and the lifeguard became more energetic in his motions.
Suddenly he dropped upon the seat of his boat, grabbed the oars, and
pulled the bow of the craft around, heading it seemed, for the raft. He
did act peculiarly.
From behind her Jessie heard faintly a cry from her chum:
"Oh, Jess! What's that? What is it?"
"Why, it is the lifeguard," rejoined Jessie Norwood, flashing another
glance over her shoulder, but continuing to thrash forward at her very
best speed.
"No, no! That thing! In the water!" At first Jessie saw nothing ahead
but the raft. She thought the lifeguard was hurrying to the raft to
meet Amy and herself if they won the race. Another glance that she
flashed back swept the smooth, rolling sea as far as Darry and Burd,
endeavoring to overcome the handicap they had given the two girl chums.
It was only then that Jessie realized that something must be
happening--some threatening thing that she did not understand. From the
rear Darry's hail reached Jessie's ear:
"Turn back! Come back, Jess!"
"Why! what does he think?" considered Jessie, amazed. "That I am going
to stop and let him and Burd beat us? I--guess--not!"
Then she heard the voice of the lifeguard. He was driving his boat
inshore with mighty strokes; but he sat facing shoreward, too, using
his oars back-handed. He shouted:
"Shark! Shark! Look out for the shark!"
And behind Jessie Norwood her chum took up the cry:
"Shark! Oh, Jess! Shark!"
The word, which had never meant much to Jessie Norwood in her life
before, being merely the name of a quite unknown fish, suddenly became
the most important of words! She whirled over and took up the breast
stroke. She rose high in the water again to look.
Off at one side and seemingly swimming toward them from a tangent, came
a gray, sail-like thing, the like of which the Roselawn girl had never
seen before. She accepted as true however the identification of the
lifeguard. He should know.
The race to the raft became suddenly a double race. More than ever did
Jessie Norwood wish to win it! She desired to outswim the dangerous
fish of which she had heard such terrible stories.