The result of that evening’s discussion at Mr. Dalken’s apartment was
soon revealed to those interested in the cruise. After certain sundry
meetings at different places such as Ashby’s Shop where the friends
grouped in Polly’s office, at Fabian’s dinner table, and at Mrs. Ashby’s
home of an evening, it was decided that the trip outlined by Polly and
Eleanor at Mr. Dalken’s dinner party was the most alluring of any. Hence
it was agreed to follow their plan.
Once it was decided to cruise to South America the next question to
decide was when to start. Unanimously it was agreed to start the
following week. The yacht needed no overhauling as it was always kept in
perfect order to sail at a few hours’ notice. Mr. Dalken seemed anxious
to get away from the City, saying his doctor ordered him to go without
delay, and the girls were more than anxious to get away.
The days following the sudden decision to start in a week’s time, were
filled with hurrying, scurrying females of the party, especially
Elizabeth Dalken. She shopped as if she expected to visit an Emperor and
attend Court instead of going on board her father’s private Yacht for a
pleasure trip to South America.
Everybody felt it necessary to advise everybody else about what to take
and what not to take. It seemed to Polly that the days fairly _crept_
by, instead of galloping past as they had been wont to do in the last
three years. But everything comes to an end—even long, tedious waiting
for a certain day to arrive. And then the day came—a day of unusual
sunshine and balmy breezes: a perfect day for a sea voyage to begin.
To the two eager girls who waved last goodbys to the maids at the Fabian
home it seemed that there never had been such a crowded week of work as
the one just finished. As the auto started to the Yacht Club wharf, even
Mr. Fabian, usually so peaceful and quiet, sighed as if he, too, felt
thankful that the rush and confusion was over.
“Goodness me! Look at the crowd waiting on the dock to see us off!”
cried Polly, looking from the window of the car.
Eleanor looked and exclaimed at the unexpected number of groups, whereas
it had been expected that only a few of the young men would be present
to bid the girls goodby. Mr. and Mrs. Ashby and Ruth, Mrs. Courtney and
Elizabeth Dalken expected to be on board the yacht; and Eleanor
Maynard’s father from Chicago had wired that he would wait at
Jacksonville, Florida, for them to pick him up, as he had found it
impossible to leave his banking affairs in time to start with them from
New York. Polly’s father and mother were at Pebbly Pit and they wired
their regrets that they could not join the merry mariners, but John and
Anne expected to arrive in New York in time to say goodby to the party.
Then where could these many people have come from? It was soon
explained.
As the Fabian car came up close to the Dalken yacht, Mr. Fabian leaned
out of the open window to try and see if he recognized the number of
friends who had come to wish them _bon voyage._ When he drew back into
the automobile he was smiling. The girls had no time to ask him the
cause of his amusement, because the chauffeur stopped the car and
immediately, a number of handsome young men crowded close to the door
and began showering questions upon the youthful occupants.
Then Polly got out and looked around, fully expecting to find her father
and mother waiting to surprise her at her sailing away for the adventure
to Southern Seas. But the girls were doomed to a fall in their
vanity—thinking all these persons on the dock were assembled to bid them
goodby! To their chagrin they saw that the majority of merry-makers were
there to see another family of friends off! not one of them had the
slightest acquaintance with Mr. Dalken’s party.
In the group eagerly waiting for the last arrivals—the unit composed of
Mr. and Mrs. Fabian and Nancy, Polly and Eleanor,—were to be seen our
old friends Mr. and Mrs. Latimer and Tom. Tom had come all the way from
the mine at Pebbly Pit in order to see Polly, and hold her hand just
once before having her go so far away. There, too, were Dr. and Mrs.
Evans and Kenneth; John Baxter and Mrs. Courtney. Evidently the owner of
the yacht and his daughter Elizabeth were already on board, as a shout,
to attract Polly’s attention to the beautiful craft, came from a number
of young persons who were talking in the prow of the yacht.
“Look, Nolla! Isn’t that Paul Stewart and Pete Maynard up there with
Elizabeth Dalken?” whispered Polly hurriedly, as she tried to see who
were the individual members in the group.
“Well! If that doesn’t beat all! Come on, Poll—let’s run in and shake
hands. I haven’t had a word with Paul for so long that my tongue cleaves
to the roof of my mouth.” And Eleanor ran.
Polly was forcibly detained at the moment she started to follow Eleanor.
Tom Latimer had caught hold of her coat sleeve and was saying: “Aren’t
you going to wait here to see John and Anne when they arrive?”
“Oh! Aren’t we all going on board? Why not visit with John and Anne, and
all the rest of you, while on the yacht?” asked Polly.
Tom always became humble when in Polly’s presence, and this occasion was
no exception to the rule. He meekly followed at Polly’s heels as she led
the way up the steps of the wharf to the gangplank. In another moment
Polly was surrounded by her young friends and dragged to the luxurious
lounging room on the deck, where wicker chairs and tables and divans
invited one to sit and enjoy life.
A few moments after seating herself in one of the wide-armed
chairs—chosen in order to compel Tom to select another chair and not try
to squeeze close to her side as he would have done had she seated
herself on the divan—Polly saw Mr. Dalken hurrying to join the group of
young friends.
“Oh, Polly! I had a ’phone message from John—he says Anne and he just
got in at Grand Central and would hurry here in a taxi. He must be
almost here by this time, I judge, so you keep on the look-out for them,
will you? I have so many other things to attend to,” was Mr. Dalken’s
request.
“All right, Dalky! Go on and do your duty, but don’t kill yourself
working for others—as you always do,” laughed Polly, waving a hand at
him.
“There, Polly! Now you’d better come with me and stand at the rail to
watch for your brother and Anne,” advised Tom, anxiously.
“Yes? and have you stand there and talk nonsense to me, eh,” laughed
Polly, softly, in order that others might not hear.
Tom bit his lip. Polly knew she was uncharitable, but she rebelled at
Tom’s constant tagging her when she wanted to enjoy the company of other
friends, too, and she generally spoke impulsively and regretted it
later.
At this crisis between the two conditional lovers, Eleanor unconsciously
played the good fairy by drawing Polly’s attention to a little side-play
between Elizabeth and Pete Maynard. They had quietly withdrawn from the
group of young people and were now enjoying a tête-à-tête back of the
funnel which acted as a partial screen for them.
“I just wanted to say that Elizabeth’s mother has trained her carefully
to encourage only such young men as can show an attractive bank-roll.
Totty never deigned to notice Ken and Paul, but quickly attached herself
to Pete. Well, Pete is playing the same game as Elizabeth’s mother
plays, and Dad knows too much to let Pete use _his_ money for fortune
hunters!” was Eleanor’s sarcastic remark.
“But you must remember, Nolla, Totty isn’t what one might call a
fortune-hunter, any more than Pete is. Mr. Dalken has no other heir to
his wealth, and some day Elizabeth will have more than she can use,”
remonstrated Polly.
“Pooh! Mr. Dalken is a handsome youngish man, Polly, and our Mrs.
Courtney is a fascinating, lonely youngish woman—there!”
At such frank match-making between the two girls, Tom Latimer gasped.
The girls laughed at his shocked expression, and Eleanor added in a
whisper: “Tom, old dear, why do you think Elizabeth’s mother sent her on
this cruise with the father who is so heartily detested by the social
moth, and has been completely ignored for years?”
“W-e-ell,” stammered Tom, innocently, “I’m sure I don’t know. Now that
you mention it, I think I can see a little light.”
Eleanor laughed as she patted Tom on the back. “That’s a good boy! Go to
the head of the class!”
Just as a taxi drove recklessly up to the wharf, the whistle on the
yacht blew a terrific blast. Every one glanced apprehensively at the
pilot house to see what this meant. Surely the Captain had no intentions
of leaving then and there! Mr. Dalken was seen to hurry to the Captain’s
room to inquire into the unexpected signal.
John and Anne hurried on board and were soon surrounded by welcoming
friends, Polly the center of the group. All concern over the whistle was
forgotten in the gossip about the gold mine and all the doings at Pebbly
Pit Ranch. Anne had many packages to deliver to Polly from her mother,
and John had advices galore from her father.
At a second warning call from the ear-splitting siren Mr. Dalken came
hurrying from the Captain’s room. His face expressed impatience as he
joined his friends. They paused in their noisy conversation to hear what
he wished to say.
“Captain Blake tells me that the pilot he has on board to take us out as
far as Sandy Hook declares he will leave this boat unless he can get
started at once. He avers that he is losing the tide, as well as other
jobs he signed up for. If he leaves us that means we will have to delay
our start until to-morrow,” explained Mr. Dalken.
“Oh, no, no!” sounded from several young throats, as their owners
crowded about Mr. Dalken to give good reasons why they should start at
once.
“But we just got here!” cried John in a disappointed tone.
“That’s your loss—you ought to collect damages from the Twentieth
Century Limited,” retorted Eleanor.
“Oh, if only John and Anne would remain on board with us and go as far
as Jacksonville, where we expect to touch to pick up Nolla’s father!”
exclaimed Polly, eagerly.
“Say, John, that’s a capital idea! Why not do it?” asked Mr. Dalken,
quickly.
“What of my baggage at the Grand Central—and the rooms we wired to hold
for us from today?” queried John.
“I’ll see to the trunk, John, and one of the others will cancel the
reservation at the hotel,” offered Kenneth Evans.
During the eager talk occasioned by Polly’s suggestion, Tom Latimer
seemed very thoughtful. When it was finally decided that John and his
wife would remain as Mr. Dalken’s guests as far as Florida, Tom
deliberately spoke up! “I’ll reconsider my refusal to be one of your
party as far as Jacksonville, Mr. Dalken. John and I have so many
important business matters to discuss at once, that this short voyage
will give us the opportunity we need.”
Polly looked amazed, and a general smile rippled the faces of all the
others present. They knew only too well what Tom’s important business
matters consisted of.
“That’s too bad of you, Tom,” exclaimed Polly, daringly. “I had hoped to
have a few words with my brother myself; now that all your time will be
engaged in business affairs I shall have to attach my company to another
champion until we reach Florida.”
Tom sulked at these words and a number of the friends in the group
laughed outright. But the sudden shrill blast overhead summarily
disposed of such trifles as a lover’s scene. “There!” declared Mr.
Dalken. “That’s the last call he’ll give us, he said. If we don’t obey
his orders he’ll leave at once.”
This rude manner of sending his guests away seemed to hurt Mr. Dalken’s
gentle heart, but his friends laughed at his concern.
Midst shouts of goodbys and many advices to the would-be mariners, the
visiting party hurried from the yacht, leaving Tom and John and Anne on
deck with those remaining for the cruise.
Just as the friends on shore hoped to see the sailor cast off the rope
which had been looped about the heavy post on the wharf, a frenzied cry
from a young man seen to be racing like mad down the walk to the dock,
drew all attention that way. Even the Captain watched the sprinter to
see what might be wrong at the last minute.
It turned out to be Jim Latimer laden with boxes of bon bons and
flowers. He had sent Ken on ahead to tell the girls he was hunting in
the locality for proper little memos of his faithful love for them all,
but Kenneth had forgotten to mention it.
“Heigh, there!” shouted Jim, furiously, to the man he saw grinning from
the pilot house, “don’t you start until I get on with these presents!”
Jim’s father tried to prevent his son from springing on board the yacht
where all hands were hastening to cast off, but Jim had not become an
expert football player on Yale’s team for nothing.
In a few giant leaps he was on board and in a few more strides he joined
the young people. Naturally the young contingent congratulated him upon
arriving just in time, and the elders laughed tolerantly.
“Think I was going to chase all over the West Side for decent candies
and flowers and then get left at the last moment?” demanded Jim, mopping
his perspiring face with his handkerchief.
“You’re just in time to say goodby and get off again,” hinted his
brother Tom, who felt that his temperamental younger brother might
interrupt his planned tête-à-têtes with Polly that evening.
“Leave nothing!” retorted Jim. “I’ll get off where you do.” His hearers
laughed.
“I’m sailing with them as far as Florida,” remarked Tom, coolly.
“Yeh! Then so am I!” was all Jim said, as he turned away to look for Mr.
Dalken.
A last and final shriek from the whistle sounded, and at the same time a
voice bawled out orders. The Captain was seen watching the group of
young friends, but his face looked like a black thunder-cloud. It was
evident to all that not only the Captain, but the owner of the yacht, as
well, were in no good humor at the behavior of the pilot. But the pilot
cared nothing for friendship or lovers, and he did care for his capacity
to earn dollars.
Paul shouted to his companions to run for the gang-plank, when he saw
two sailors stand ready to cast off. Before Paul could warn his friends
of the need of haste, a loud voice bawled: “Stand ready to cast off
lines!” Then quickly followed the command: “Cast off!”
At the same moment the ropes which had moored the yacht to her dock were
deftly thrown, and in another minute the beautiful craft was under way.
Mr. Dalken stood amazed at such action, and the young men thus trapped
and about to be carried away on the voyage, began to stutter and stammer
and wonder what had best be done.
The girls, considering the manner in which their gallants had been duly
warned and then punished for not obeying the orders, laughed uneasily at
the result of such deafness to the siren’s command. On the pier stood a
group of wide-eyed, open-mouthed elders who felt on the verge of nervous
collapse when they had time to remember that this departing vessel was
bound for South America, and those young men were not prepared to take
that trip.
Mr. Dalken ran to the Captain’s quarters and there he remained, instead
of returning to the deck to comfort the troubled souls of the male
admirers who had been so neatly snared.
The yacht ran smoothly through the tawny waters of the Hudson River, and
headed for the Statue of Liberty. Though the girls, as well as the
trapped boys, were deeply concerned over the outcome of this action on
the Captain’s part, they confessed to each other that it was thrilling
when one realized how neatly they had been kidnapped. And then, too,
what jolly times they all might have on the days and nights of this
marvellous cruise!
Tom reminded Polly, as the yacht shot past the Statue, of that
experience they had shared the night that same yacht collided with the
ferryboat in the fog, and the unexpected dive and swim they were given—a
swim that all but ended fatally for Polly.
Elizabeth had joined the other young people by this time, and she asked
to be told the circumstance of that adventure on Bedloe’s Island. While
describing that thrilling incident, Tom gave his attention to Elizabeth,
thus he failed to notice that Polly slipped away. She had seen Mrs.
Courtney laughing and whispering with some one hidden back of the door
which opened to the private corridor of the Captain’s quarters, and she
believed she knew who was standing there imparting such amusing news to
the lady.
Unseen by Mrs. Courtney, Polly managed to come up quite unexpectedly and
overheard Mr. Dalken remarking: “So you see they will be taught a
necessary lesson at the same time.”
It was too late to change the topic, or to screen the man who imparted
this information, hence Mrs. Courtney laughed softly and begged Polly to
keep the secret. Both she and Mr. Dalken were sure Polly had overheard
all that had just been said. In truth, Polly allowed them to remain
under that impression, but she knew little more than she had before she
surprised them.
The three sauntered away from the Captain’s quarters, and Polly
remarked: “Well, we have much to be grateful for, Dalky. Especially for
the Captain’s unusual consideration for young maids’ preference for the
company of young men. He shows he was young himself at one time!” Then
she laughed merrily.
“Yes; that is what he said just now, when I demanded an excuse for his
unwarranted action of adding all those extra appetites to my list of
passengers. We’ll run short of rations long before we touch at Cuba,”
said Mr. Dalken.
The anxious young men now saw their host approaching, and Tom hurried
forward to meet him and ask for an explanation. Having been told how
amazed Mr. Dalken felt at the manner in which the Captain had acted, the
disgusted young man glanced inadvertently across the Harbor.
Polly, watching Mr. Dalken’s face for a cue to this hoax, saw him strive
to bite his nether lip in order to keep from laughing outright. This
instantly relieved her mind of any doubts, for she knew Mr. Dalken would
not feel like laughing if the carrying off of the group of young men had
been accidental. As it now seemed, the whole plan had been a trick.
The yacht skimmed on without as much as a swerve inland to denote that
the Captain was softening his heart and was disposed to land his stolen
passengers at any dock along the way. The men thus stolen began to frown
heavily and every last one of them forgot to make the most of this
opportunity to converse with the young ladies they had found so charming
a short time before.
Finally the craft neared Sandy Hook. As the distance between the Station
and the yacht seemed to diminish, a stranger in uniform came down from
the pilot house and approached Mr. Dalken. He held out a hand and spoke
in a low murmur. Mr. Dalken laughed and nodded his head.
The yacht swept up alongside a small power boat which had apparently
kept the same course as the White Crest, and the uniformed stranger
turned to the wondering group of young persons. “I’m going ashore in my
launch, but there may be room for a few extra passengers in case any one
here fears sea-sickness and prefers to return to land.”
At this unexpected invitation, a rush of eager young men fell upon the
pilot and in one voice begged to be taken ashore. The laughter from Mr.
Dalken and his adult guests soon explained the joke. But the host would
not let the departing guests go in peace.
“I’m shocked, boys, to find you are afraid of sea-sickness and choose to
go ashore rather than take a chance with us! Well, now that my girls see
for themselves what your courage amounts to, they may decide to marry
other young men they are sure to find in South America.”
The farewells spoken at this parting were short, and needed no more than
half a minute to finish. The pilot smiled grimly as he said: “Quite
different from those long-drawn-out goodbys you boys kept on saying
while at the dock!”
Down in the launch, the young men who now liked to call themselves “The
Castaways,” waved their hats and sang a farewell song while the little
chugging craft started away for land.
Eleanor sighed as she turned away from the rail. “That was the first
adventure on our outward bound itinerary. What next, I wonder?”
“Well, I can tell you something we _forgot_ to do, because of all this
excitement over those boys!” exclaimed Polly, impatiently. Then she
continued in a no less angry tone: “We had planned just how we would
stand at the stern of the yacht and wave our hands and sing a farewell
to our dear people waiting at the end of the pier to see the very last
speck of us, and then we sail away and not as much as a _thought_ do we
fling at them! I feel quite guilty when I think of all my friends
watching anxiously for one last look from me!”
Polly’s voice had an audible regret in its tone as she ended her
sentence, but Mrs. Courtney quickly changed the regret to merriment.
“Oh, my dear! They never remembered you were on board. Every one in that
crowd on the dock was so flustered over the fears of those boys being
taken on this trip and then hearing from you girls that they all were
married off as seemed best, that they were calling, running about for
help, signaling, and what not, to cause the yacht to turn back and
deposit those heart-breakers safely beside the parental authority once
more.”