SHARP WORDS
Even more quickly than the rain storm had developed did it pass
away—and the bright summer sun came out in its resplendent glory.
Frank and the girls emerged from the hut, drenched to the skin, the
girls’ dresses hanging to them like so many rags.
“I am just as sorry as I can be, girls,” said Frank in an apologetic
tone of voice. “Had I thought the rain was going to be so severe,
even had I thought we were going to have a shower, I would not have
come. But, there’s nothing to be done about it but to be miserably
wet and uncomfortable until we get back.”
Minnie seemed to be in a tempest, her expression one of anger when
Frank spoke.
“Your attention was called to it when we started,” she shot at him as
they reached the _Rocket_ at the shore.
“Quite true, Minnie. But do you think for a moment that I came down
here to get myself wet, too, just for the fun of getting you girls
wet? Just remember that I got as much of it as any one else.”
“I don’t think Frank is to blame one bit,” one of the other girls
spoke up. “Let’s make the best of it. The sun will dry us out a
little, and the wind on the river will help. The only thing is that
we’ll look like we’ve been rough dried.”
Into the _Rocket_ climbed all the girls, while Frank shoved easily
off and took charge of the engine and the wheel.
The cheery reaction of the sunshine as opposed to the drear of the
rain and clouds and the breeze of the water, the open air, and
the feeling of freedom—all combined to return the little group to
something more resembling normal, and in a very few minutes, before
they had half traversed the return distance to the picnic grounds,
all the girls were laughing and giggling, making light of the
incident.
Frank was delighted to see the turn of affairs, and even more pleased
to notice that Minnie seemed to be regaining her former spirits,
denoted by a little more freedom in her conversation with him. She
sat on a steamer stool at the edge of the cockpit while he held the
_Rocket_ to its course.
“Please let me run it, won’t you?” she asked.
Whereupon the length of time it took Frank to permit her to take the
wheel in hand and assume charge of their path was measured by the
speed with which he could slip to one side and let her get into the
pit.
“Girls, isn’t this fine? I’m going to capture that port yonder. Fire
when you are ready, men!”
Minnie, a driver of an automobile herself, fearless of mechanical
things, swung the _Rocket_ far out of the midstream and made a run
around the little island standing in the center of the Harrapin’s
course just opposite the picnic grounds.
The crowd on shore had returned to the grounds, for, as Frank learned
afterward, they too, had been caught in the rain and had sought
shelter under benches, inside of cars and wagons, and under doubled
cloths which had been spread as tents.
Some one from the picnic grounds noticed that Minnie was steering the
_Rocket_, and sent the news around. This very largely accounted for
the interest exhibited by all of them in gathering along the little
bluff of the shore, watching.
Minnie took the speedy little craft gracefully around the island,
making a three-quarter turn, and then dashed straight for shore.
Frank gave her directions to go slightly upstream before making the
turn down again to the grounds, and then cut off the engine.
“It must be truthfully said,” laughed Lanky, as he watched, “that
Frank’s nerve for one thing and his fear of hurting Minnie’s feeling
for another thing, causes him to allow her to make the landing.”
But it was smoothly done, a feat of which Minnie herself was not sure
when she essayed it, but which she was determined to try now that she
had the wheel.
Out of the boat all of the passengers jumped as they touched, Frank
tying, and the crowd was all around them.
“Where were you during the rain?”
“Did you make Whipper’s Island?”
“Did you go into that hut?”
“Look how wet they got!”
Questions, statements, suggestions, quips and gibes, all came thick
and fast from the crowd of young folks. Finally, the explanation
was given, Minnie enlarging it as much as one can who is happy over
a feat well performed and who, therefore, had almost forgotten the
unkind remarks and cutting looks which she had directed at Frank
Allen.
“I must have you drive the _Speedaway_!” cried Fred Cunningham coming
forward and making a very successful attempt to separate Minnie from
the others.
“I certainly should love to. Can’t we get it out to-morrow?” she
asked.
“No, because I am going to be out of town. You see, I have some
business which I must attend to. My two friends are anxious to have
me with them on a business deal.”
“Did you hear that, Frank?” whispered Lanky.
“I did.”
“Rather nervy, I’ll say.”
“Well, he has the right to do it, I suppose,” returned the owner of
the _Rocket_.
“Humph, he ought to have his head punched,” was the growled-out reply.
Just after lunch, about the time Frank and his group had started
for the boat ride, others had strung a tennis net beyond the trees
in an opening which was reasonably smooth, though far from perfect.
Fortunately, some thoughtful person had put the rackets beneath the
seat of an automobile, protected from the rain, and now these were
unlimbered from their hiding places and a game proposed.
It had not occurred to Frank to bring along the two folding stools
aboard the _Rocket_, but this did not alter the fact that it was a
rather nervy thing for Fred Cunningham to step aboard the little boat
shortly afterward and take both of them, using one for himself and
one for Minnie as they took seats alongside the tennis court to watch.
“What do you think of that?” Lanky asked Frank.
“I think if whatever nerve he has continues to develop, he ought to
be able to get along in this world,” was Frank Allen’s very apt
reply. “But he has shown me what a bonehead I carry on top of my own
shoulders, anyhow.”
“I agree,” Lanky rejoined, without a smile.
However, the act was just one more little coal added to the fire of
dislike which was well kindled in the breast of Frank, for, though
he did not resent the act as one of gallantry when he had forgotten
it, he did resent the nerve of this fellow who had gone aboard his
boat under the circumstances which existed and in face of the rift
which was between them. Instead of his feeling any jealousy, he had a
feeling that this fellow was trying to take entire charge of things,
trying to make light of Frank before his friends.
The game of tennis went merrily on, though the ground was wet and
slippery, the balls soon became the same, and the rackets gradually
became slow. In fact, the players knew the gut were ruined, but none
of them would stop from playing. To-morrow was time enough to think
of the cost.
It was just as the afternoon was getting along to a close, when the
happy crowd of young folks was commencing to weary, that some one
made a remark again about the race between the _Rocket_ and the
_Speedaway_.
“It will be only a few days more,” called out Fred Cunningham. “I
have been watching the _Rocket_ of Allen’s, and I saw the way
it acted this afternoon. It really will be a shame the way the
_Speedaway_ will run off from the _Rocket_.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised but what you expect to run several rings
around me,” declared Frank Allen, making a very brave attempt to make
the speech laughingly.
“Now, that hadn’t occurred to me; but I believe it can be done.”
Cunningham, instead of taking it up in the same bantering fashion,
made a serious matter of it.
“Well, as you said, it will be only a few days. In the meanwhile I
think I shall install a couple of pair of wings on the _Rocket_,”
answered Frank.
For a while the conversation ran in this wise, and then veered off to
a discussion of the Parsons robbery case, a subject which had thus
far been taboo with Frank’s closest friends.
The boys supposed none of the girls knew the inside facts of what had
been going on, and the five of them, Frank, Lanky, Paul, Ralph, and
Buster felt that they could keep this particular subject clear of any
personal references.
But they missed their guess, for Irene Rich was the one who spoiled
their hopes with the remark:
“Frank was up there, and he ought to know a whole lot. Why not tell
us all about it, Frank?”
Fred Cunningham appeared to be interested in what was going on, and
looked from one to the other as questions and urgings passed around
the little crowd.
“But there isn’t anything to tell that you don’t already know,” Frank
tried to stem the tide. “The newspapers have told what we saw, Lanky
and I.”
“Sure they have,” Lanky now interrupted. “What’s the use of serving
it all over again—cold?”
“But who do they think did it? Wasn’t that awful—robbing Mrs. Parsons
and scaring her almost to death putting her in that closet?” went on
another girl.
Fred Cunningham rose from his seat and walked around the group,
fearful that something might be said which he would not hear.
“I think,” said Frank, “that it’s getting late and we ought to
commence packing. It will be dark by the time we get back to town.”
“That is right,” spoke up Cunningham, a guest, but willing to get
away from the grounds.
So, there being little else to do, the crowd being weary of the day,
packing operations were started immediately.
The boys who were closest to Frank gathered about him, each doing his
own part toward packing, but there seemed to be a natural gravitation
of his friends toward one little group.
“Say,” Paul Bird spoke up quietly, as he was standing near Frank at
one time, “what do you say if several of us go up there to-morrow to
see if we can find anything.”
“That’s the idea! We know more to start with than any one else, and
we ought to be able to find something, provided there is anything to
be found,” Lanky put in.
“A lot of time has passed,” interposed Frank. “I am not opposed to
the idea, but I am fearful that we won’t find anything that will be
of benefit.”
“It certainly would be too late to hunt for any tracks of automobiles
or anything of that kind,” said Buster. “Even if we had a chance this
morning, the rain has spoiled whatever chance remained.”
“It doesn’t seem to me that hunting for automobile tracks would help
us, anyhow,” said Frank. “I don’t think the automobile had very much
to do with it.”
“It took those men away, didn’t it?” asked Ralph.
Frank smiled quietly. That question had been asked before, as also
the other one—where was the automobile when Mrs. Parsons came into
the house?
“What time can we get started? I want to go to the hospital and then
I want to see the contractors in the morning, but I’ll be ready to go
after that. Say about ten o’clock?”
It was agreed at once that all the boys should be down at the
boat-house at ten o’clock, and Lanky was given the job of seeing that
oil and gas were aboard, and Buster’s job was to have lunch for all
on board, inasmuch as they would spend the day up the river.
Minnie joined the group of boys after a short while.
“I am having a little lawn party at the house to-morrow afternoon in
honor of Mr. Cunningham,” she said. “Won’t you boys be there?”
This invitation was a bombshell in the crowd. They all looked at
Frank for an answer.
“Sorry, Minnie, but all of us have agreed to make a little trip of
exploration to-morrow to try out the _Rocket_, and we won’t be able
to go. If it were the next day, now——”
“It can’t be the next day. I can’t change my arrangements, and you
can change yours.”
“Well, the other boys may do as they see fit, though I think they
feel as if they are bound to make this trip, but I am going to make
it, whether or no.”
Frank’s position rather startled Minnie. She was not accustomed to
having people attempt to alter her plans.
Just at this moment Fred Cunningham walked over to the crowd.
“I say, fellows, surely you will be there. I want to get away on a
business trip the day after. Surely your trial of the _Rocket_ can
wait another day.”
“I am afraid it has waited too long.”
“Going to hunt up the place where you had your two hours of engine
trouble?” Cunningham shot covertly at Frank.
“No. But I’m going to find the rowboat that gets in the way at
nighttime and learn where it keeps its boxes that it carries aboard.”
Why Frank made such a remark he was never able to explain. But
Cunningham went as white as a sheet.