DRIFTING
Dot burst into tears, and Tess, startled by the sudden tragic outcome of
her prank, leaned so far over the edge of the boat to see what happened
to the doll that Ruth cried:
"Be careful! You'll fall! Don't you go into the lake, as well as the
doll!"
Tess bounced back on deck. She looked ashamed when she saw Dot crying.
"You can have one of my dolls when we get back home," Tess offered. "Or
you can have my half of Almira the cat, and all her kittens. I'll give
you my share."
"I don't want 'em! I want my Alice-doll!" wailed Dot.
"I'll have Hank get her for you!" called Neale, as he swung the boat
around. "The string will float, even if your doll won't, and Hank can
fish it back aboard."
Neale signaled to Hank by means of a bell running from the upper deck
near the steering wheel to the motor room below, where the former mule
driver looked after the gasoline engine. It was arranged with a clutch,
so it could be thrown out of gear, thus stopping or reversing the power,
if need be.
"What's the matter?" called Hank, coming out on the lower deck and
looking up at Neale. "Going to make a landing?"
"No. But Dot lost her Alice-doll overboard," Neale explained. "Tess had
a string to it and--"
"Oh, is that what the string was?" exclaimed Hank. "I saw a cord drop
down at the stern past the motor-room window and I made a grab for it. I
thought it was somebody's fish line. Wait, I'll give it a haul and see
what I can get on deck."
Leaving the wheel, which needed no attention since power was not now
propelling the craft, Neale hastened to the lower deck, followed by
Ruth, Tess and Agnes. They saw Hank pulling in, hand over hand, the
long, white cord. Presently there came something slapping its way up the
side of the _Bluebird_, and a moment later there slumped down on the
deck a very wet, and much bedraggled doll.
"Oh, it's my Alice! It's Alice!" cried Dot. "I've got her back once
more."
"There won't be much left of her if she gets in the water again,"
prophesied Neale. "This is the second time this trip."
"She _is_ rather forlorn looking," agreed Ruth, trying not to smile and
hurt her little sister's feelings, for Dot was very sensitive about her
dolls, especially her "Alice" one. "I shall have to get you a new one,
Dot."
"I don't want anybody but my Alice-doll! Will you hang her up in the sun
for me so she'll dry?" begged Dot of Neale, holding out to him the
really wretched doll.
"Of course, Dottie. And when we get back to Milton we can take her to
the hospital again and have her done over as we did after she was buried
with the dried apples. Poor Alice-doll! She has had a hard life."
Tess had gone off by herself, thoroughly ashamed of her behavior. Dot
now went to her own little room, to grieve over the fate of the
Alice-doll.
"Aggie," said Neale, "I think our Tess must have surely gone insane. I
never knew her to do a deliberately unkind thing before."
"It certainly is curious. There, Neale, Mr. Howbridge is beckoning to
you."
"Yes," Neale replied. "He wants us to start, and he's right. Start her
up again, Hank," he added. "We're on Lake Macopic now, and we'll have to
watch our step. There's more navigation here than there was on the
river."
"Is this really the lake?" asked Ruth, "Are we really on Macopic at
last?"
"This is where the river broadens out into the lake," said Neale,
indicating the sweep of waters about them. "It is really a part of the
lake, though the larger and main part lies around that point," and he
indicated the point of land he meant.
Lake Macopic was a large body of water, and on its shores were many
towns, villages and one or two places large enough to be dignified by
the appellation "cities." Quite a trade was done between some of the
places, for the presence of so much water gave opportunity for power to
be obtained from it, and around the lake were many mills and factories.
There were a number of islands in the lake, some of them large enough
for summer hotels, while others were merely clumps of trees. On some,
campers spent their vacations, and on one or two, owned by fishermen,
cabins were built.
"Yes, we are really here at last," said Neale. "I must find out where we
are to head for. Where do you have to deliver this boat, Mr. Howbridge?"
he asked the lawyer.
"At the upper end of the lake," was the answer. "But there is no hurry
about it. I intend that we shall all have a nice cruise on Lake Macopic
before I let my client have possession of this boat. He is in no special
need, and the summer is not nearly enough over to make me want to end
our vacation yet. That is, unless you feel you must get back to the
Corner House, Martha?" and he smiled at his oldest ward.
"Oh, no," Ruth made haste to reply. "It is too lovely here to wish to
leave. I'm sure we shall find it most delightful."
"Can we go in swimming?" asked Tess, who liked the water.
"Yes, there are bathing beaches--several of them in fact," answered the
lawyer. "We will stop at one and let you children paddle around."
"I can swim!" boasted Tess.
"I can too," added Dot, not to be outdone by her sister.
Lake Macopic was beautiful, reflecting the sunlight, the blue sky, and
the white, fleecy clouds. The houseboat once more began slowly
navigating it as Hank threw the clutch in and Neale kept the wheel
steady. They passed several other boats, and then, as their supplies
were running low, it was decided to put in at the nearest town.
"We'll get some cake and maybe a pie or two," said Ruth, after
consulting Mrs. MacCall. "And of course, some fresh vegetables."
"Can't we get some strawberries?" questioned Dot.
"Too late I'm afraid, Dot. But maybe we can get huckleberries."
"Oh, I know what I would like," cried Tess.
"I know too," declared Agnes. "An ice-cream cone."
"Yep. Strawberry."
"I want chocolate," came promptly from Dot.
"And oh, can't we have some lollypops too?" went on Tess.
"Sure--if the stores keep them," answered Mr. Howbridge promptly. "Yes,
I see a sign, 'Ice Cream and Confectionery.' I guess we can get what we
want over there--when we reach the place."
"Oh, goody," cried Dot; and Tess patted her stomach in satisfaction.
It was early evening when they tied up at a wharf, which was operated in
conjunction with a store, and while Mrs. MacCall and the girls were
buying such things as were needed, Neale and Mr. Howbridge made some
inquiries regarding the rules for navigating the lake. They found there
would be no trouble in getting the _Bluebird_ from place to place.
"Have you seen a small motor boat run by two men around here lately?"
asked the lawyer of the dock keeper, after some unimportant talk.
"What sort of men?"
"Roughly dressed."
"That isn't much of a description," was the retort. "A lot of the
fishermen dress roughly, but they're all right. But we do have some
fellows up here who aren't what I'd call first-class."
"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Howbridge.
"Well, I mean there's a bunch camping on one of the islands here.
Somebody said they were returned miners from the Klondike, but I don't
know that I believe that."
"Why, those may be the very men we mean!" cried the lawyer. "One of them
claims, or is said to have been, in the Alaskan gold regions. In fact
this young man's father is, or was, a Klondike miner," went on Mr.
Howbridge, indicating Neale. "Maybe these men could tell us something
about him. Did you ever hear any of them mention a Mr. O'Neil?" he
asked.
The dock tender shook his head.
"Can't say I did," he answered. "I don't have much to do with those men.
They're too rough for me. They may be the ones you mean, and they may
not."
Further questioning elicited no more information, and Neale and Mr.
Howbridge had to be content with this.
"But we'll pay a visit to that island," decided the lawyer, when its
location had been established. "We may get some news of your father in
that way."
"I hope so," sighed Neale.
Rather than tie up at the dock that night, which would bring them too
near the not very pleasant sights and sounds of a waterfront
neighborhood, it was decided to anchor the _Bluebird_ out some distance
in the lake.
Accordingly, at dusk, when supper was over and a little stroll on shore
had gotten the "kinks" out of their "sea legs," the _Bluebird_ was
headed into the lake again and moored, with riding lights to warn other
craft away.
In the middle of the night Neale felt the need of a drink, as he had
eaten some buttered popcorn the evening before and he was now thirsty.
As he arose to get a glass of water from a shelf in his apartment he
became aware of a strange movement. At the same time he could hear the
sighing of the wind.
"Sounds as if a storm were coming up," mused the boy. And then, as he
reached out his hand for the glass, he felt the _Bluebird_ rise, fall
and sway beneath him.
"Why, we're moving! We're drifting!" exclaimed Neale. "The anchor must
be dragging or the cables have been cut. We're drifting fast, and may be
in danger!"