AT WEASLE POINT
"ISN'T it queer how no one seems to know any one else?" remarked Grace,
with more words than meaning.
"You mean every one seems a stranger to every one else," added Cleo,
affecting the same ambiguity.
"Yes; to put it collectively, the whole town is being populated by rank
'furriners,'" said Louise, "but I can explain the analogy. You see, when
summer comes the natives pack up and leave their homes to rent them
profitably. That means only the post-master, and store keepers stay
put."
"I have asked more questions and got fewer answers since I came to Sea
Crest than I would have believed possible to ask and not receive,"
declared Cleo. "But what is your special trouble, Grace?"
"I asked a couple of girls who our queer Letty was and they didn't know.
Now, they were barefoot and peddling clams, the kind they dig up in the
sand, and does it seem possible they would not know that girl?"
"They may come in from another town," suggested Louise. "It is quite
possible they wouldn't know a thing but clams. I have found that out.
But let's hurry off. I've got the lunch, and we are not to go farther
than the Point. I have learned that girls go out there with perfect
safety, and there's a nice little ice cream place tended by a perfectly
prim, gray-haired lady, who keeps an eye all over the Point. It must be
a very small point, or the woman must have a long distance eye,"
finished Louise.
"We are going in the launch, of course," asked and answered Cleo. "I had
to assure mother that the man who runs it has a brand new license, and I
almost promised to bring back the number. Mother is so afraid of all
sorts of motors."
Ready for the excursion to Weasle Point, Grace, Cleo, and Louise, garbed
in their practical scout uniforms and armed with fishing rods and a
lunch box, started off in time to take the River Queen on its first trip
of the afternoon. A few other passengers embarked with the girls; a
mother with a small son and daughter, two business men, and the boy with
supplies for the island fruit stand.
This number seemed to satisfy the captain who, after counting heads,
started off. Across the river, then into the bay that widened as it
neared the ocean, the River Queen glided gracefully over to the little
strip of land jutting out, with its clump of deep green pines, and the
ever present picnic sign.
"Isn't this lovely?" exclaimed Louise. "I am so sorry Julia had to go to
the city."
"And that Mary is not down yet," added Cleo, "but we can come again.
It's a perfectly lovely sail."
Landing at the improvised dock the girls quickly found the most secluded
corner of the little grove, and although they had lunched at home, the
sail was a potent appetizer, and the proposed spread was eagerly
arranged.
It was very quiet on the strip of sand selected by the little party.
Like a narrow ribbon the Point lay on the waters, and the deeper
woodlands were evidently unpopular and little traversed, for not even a
path greeted the scouts in their rambles.
"I wonder why the place is called Weasle Point?" questioned Cleo. "Are
we supposed to hunt weasels out here?"
"I don't even know what the beast looks like," replied Grace. "Are they
bearish or wolfish?"
"Neither, they are little snappy things that eat birds," said Louise.
"I've heard daddy tell of them--he's quite a hunter, you know. But I
don't fancy we will be attacked."
They had disposed of their lunch, and were exploring. All sorts of odd
growing things were discovered, from the almost invisible wintergreen,
that hugs the earth as if fearful of standing alone, to the wide
spreading sweet fern, that lords it over every other green thing under
the trees.
More than once shouts of "Snake!" were sent up, and each time this
proved to be a false alarm, or the snake must have made good its escape,
for no horrible crawling reptile came to view, in spite of the most
desperate thrashing of bushes, and beating of brush, following each
alarm.
"Oh, see here!" called Louise, who had wandered some distance from her
companions. "Here is the dearest little dove, eating our lunch crumbs.
He carried them out here to safety."
Quietly the girls stole up to a pretty soft spot in the thicket, and
there found a little pigeon enjoying the last crumbs of Cleo's cake.
Although the approach meant some more crackling of leaves and sticks,
the bird seemed not the least disturbed, in fact, as the scouts looked
down he looked up with a perky twist of his graceful throat.
"Must be tame," suggested Louise. "I hope those children down by the
water don't come romping up to scare him off."
Cautiously Grace approached in that steady, definite manner that always
seems to mean still motion. The bird hardly fluttered, but when the
girl threw out a few more crumbs he proudly hopped toward her.
"He has something tied to his leg," said Grace, keeping her voice down
to almost a murmur. "I believe he is a carrier pigeon."
"Surely," agreed Louise, for the tiny speck on the bird's leg was
plainly an aluminum strip such as marks the carrier bird.
The same thought flashed through the mind of each--who would be sending
private messages through that grove!
"I suppose we wouldn't dare look at the note," said Grace. "They are
always in a piece of gelatine under the wing."
"My, no," replied Cleo, "that would be equivalent to robbing the mails."
"But this mail seems to want robbing," said Louise quietly, "just see
how he waits? Maybe this is his station."
So intent were they on watching the dove they did not hear an
approaching step. It came so stealthfully, creeping along the soft
marshy ground, scarcely a sound broke the woodland stillness; only the
voices of children down at the landing, giving evidence of other life
than that of the Girl Scouts on the island.
"Oh see!" said Grace. "This leg is hurt. Perhaps that is why he doesn't
fly off," and noticing for the first time that the bird hopped on one
slender leg, Grace stepped up nearer to examine the injury. As she did a
voice sounded just back of the group, and a very sharp voice it was.
"Hey there! You leave that bird alone!" came the shrill order.
Turning, they confronted the girl they had privately named Letty.
"Oh, is he your bird?" asked Louise confidently. "He seems to be
injured, and we thought we might help fix the injury."
"Oh, yes, you did," sneered the girl. "A whole lot you thought that.
Guess you had an eye on Lovey's mail bag. Here Lovey!" she sort of cooed
to the bird. The change in her voice was remarkable. It softened to a
caress as she stooped to pick up the little carrier pigeon.
First she looked at the leg, which, it appeared, had been hurt, but was
mending. Assuring herself this was all right the child perched the bird
on her shoulder and stood there a picture for the eye of an artist.
Standing at a little distance the girls regarded her cautiously. There
she stood in her bare feet, with a tattered dress, her hair cropped out
as if cut with a single snip of a powerful scissors, and that pretty
bird perched contentedly on her shoulder!
After satisfying her inclination for this unconscious pose, she cuddled
the bird in the crook of her arm, and again confronted the girls.
"You don't ever want to interfere with anything around here," she
warned, assuming again the high pitched voice. "And if you don't run
away you might miss your boat."
"Oh, we wouldn't mind," Grace had courage to say. "We are not afraid of
the woods, and it's early yet. There seem to be other people here who
have to get back to Sea Crest."
"Snoopin' eh?" sneered the girl again. "Well, you want to watch out.
You're the smarties that tried to drown Bentley, ain't you?"
"Who said we ever tried to drown any one?" demanded Cleo, stepping up to
the girl, whose bare feet looked almost black, and whose short hair
stood around her face with the wildest effect--almost Fiji, the girls
thought.
"Well, I ain't saying Bentley did," she answered, "but some one did, and
you better be gettin'."
"Seems to me you are not very polite," said Louise. "Here we offer to
help you fix up your bird, and you try to chase us," she declared.
"Well, we are in no hurry, and don't you go saying anything about us
drowning folks, do you hear?" and Louise surprised herself with her
courage. "We saved a boy from drowning the other day, and were glad to
do it, but we had nothing to do with the accident, and it won't be well
for any one to spread malicious reports about us either!"
Had the other scouts dared they would have applauded, but the occasion
demanded different tactics.
"Oh, ain't you smart! I suppose you're scouts too, in them rigs. Maybe
you'll go tattlin' on me and try to have me 'pinched.' Well, there ain't
nobody 'round here dasts to touch me, so you needn't bother."
"We had no idea of tattling on you, but it seems you have taken a lot of
trouble to bother us, since we came," retorted Cleo.
"And you was down on the beach when the barrel went off and burned some
of the guards things, wasn't you?" she went on, ignoring the charge Cleo
had made. "You know they're after the firebug, an' you better watch
out!"
This seemed too much. The girls fairly fumed with indignation.
"Yes, we were down there, and nearly got burned with the way that barrel
went up," fired back Grace as quickly as she could get her breath, "but
we don't know anything about the firebug _yet_. But we are going to. Do
you know who the Weasle is?" she asked indignantly.
"The Weasle!" and the girl burst into a choppy laugh. "Me, know who the
Weasle is?" she repeated again. "That's a good 'un. Why don't you ask
Bentley?" and before they realized her intention she stooped for the
empty lunch box, and with her free hand threw it full force at Louise's
head. Dodging it Louise was ready to start after the creature, but
before she could do so they saw her reach the water's edge, jump into a
skiff and row swiftly away.
"Talk about cyclones," began Cleo, when she had recovered from her
surprise. "Whatever do you call that human tornado?"
"We don't call her," replied Grace. "I just think we ought to make a
complaint about her. Think of her saying we tried to drown a boy!"
"I'll tell you," said Louise soberly. "She isn't right in her mind."
"But right enough to make a lot of trouble for folks," retorted Cleo.
"There she goes now for Looney Point. Maybe that's what Captain Dave
warned us to keep clear of."
"Let's get down among the other people," suggested Grace. "It's a little
too lonely up here."
"And I guess we had better take the next boat back," added Louise.
"Something might just happen that we would be left."
When they reached the dock the launch was about ready to start, and
piling in they soon found themselves again facing Sea Crest Pier.
So the afternoon had been one of surprise and disappointment.