Before the White Crest reached her first port, which was Jacksonville,
Mr. Dalken must have regretted his invitation to his daughter Elizabeth
to become one of his party for the cruise. She had not only taken every
occasion to contradict her father when he made any statement, but she
sneered at all he said. Naturally this superior air from a young girl
deeply annoyed Polly and Eleanor who were Mr. Dalken’s sworn allies; and
the friends who knew and admired their host without limitation, also
felt diffident at such times as Mr. Dalken was so rudely criticised.
Said Eleanor to Polly one night before retiring: “If I were Dalky I’d
take Elizabeth to the express train going to New York and I’d ship her
home to her butterfly mother!”
“It’s one thing to say such a thing, but quite another matter to
accomplish it,” returned Polly.
“Well, anyway, we may find some way in which to leave her behind when we
touch at Jacksonville or Palm Beach.”
“Oh! Are we going to stop at Palm Beach?” exclaimed Polly.
“Why, yes! Didn’t you know? It was Elizabeth’s coaxing that caused Dalky
to agree to stop over there to have dinner at the Ponce de Leon. Perhaps
we shall spend the evening there and return to the ship to sleep.”
“That’s great! If Elizabeth should meet any of her New York friends at
the hotel she may prefer to remain,” ventured Polly.
“I’m hoping the same thing. If only we could hypnotize people we might
bring some one she likes right into her pathway,” laughed Eleanor as she
jumped into bed.
The following morning the yacht reached Jacksonville where Tom Latimer
was supposed to leave his friends and start back North. But John and
Anne Brewster were persuaded to remain on board with their friends till
they reached Palm Beach, hence Tom decided to remain too, and thence
accompany his bosom friend John back to New York.
“If Tom insists upon dogging my every step as he has been doing on the
yacht, I don’t see that I am going to have a good time,” pouted Polly,
as she heard Eleanor’s news that Tom would go on to Palm Beach.
Eleanor laughed teasingly. “That’s what a young girl gets for having a
beau who is daffy over her!”
“But, Nolla,” complained Polly, “it isn’t my fault that Tom won’t take a
broad hint to mind his own business!”
“Perhaps he thinks this _is_ his business—the business of getting the
girl he has made up his mind to marry,” declared Eleanor.
“Well, then! You can just tell him from me, Nolla, that he is going
about it in exactly the wrong way to interest me in himself. A girl
hates to be tagged, just as a man loses interest in a girl who is
forever putting herself in his way to be noticed.”
“I’ll tell him!” agreed Eleanor, laughingly.
But it was not necessary that Eleanor warn Tom of his over-zealous
attentions to Polly, because a general surprise awaited the mariners
when the vessel docked. Not only did Eleanor find a telegram from her
father, in which he said that unexpected trouble at his bank kept him in
Chicago, and prevented his joining the happy friends on the White Crest,
but Mr. Dalken also found his ward, John Baxter, and his friend Raymond
Ames waiting to come aboard. Every one believed Jack to be in New York.
“Well, well, boys, where did you hail from?” was Mr. Dalken’s first
words as the two young men leaped upon the deck and ran to present
themselves.
“Why, immediately after you sailed I met my friend Ray who was bound for
a position in Panama. Being so lonesome with all you friends away, it
took but little coaxing from him to persuade me to accompany him,”
explained Jack.
Even while the new-comers were being overwhelmed with questions from the
mariners, Mr. Dalken called a hasty council of war and discussed the
advisability of going ashore to see the town, or to continue on to Palm
Beach. It was unanimously decided that Jacksonville contained nothing of
interest to the sailors, the three guests just arrived, having seen all
they wanted to see at the city. Hence orders were given to pull up
anchor and sail away to the famous winter resort where all and sundry
kinds of sport might be found.
With the coming of Jack and Ray on board the yacht, the girls showed
more life and interest in planning to pass the time. Tom felt so much
the senior of the two young men who now vied with him for Polly’s
smiles, that he joined his chum John Brewster, and held aloof from the
younger members in the party. Not till Anne reminded him that he was
acting the same mistaken part he had played on board the ocean liner at
the time it docked at Quarantine in New York City, did he rouse himself
to look pleasant and agreeable when Polly danced and laughed with the
friends of her own age.
The small damage done the yacht in the hurricane, which she had braved
and came out of the victor, was soon attended to by one of the mates who
had been a ship’s carpenter before Mr. Dalken’s alluring salary had
tempted him to join up on Captain Blake’s crew. Long before the White
Crest arrived at Palm Beach the repairs had all been done and the craft
was looking as pert and fresh as any millionaire’s vessel within a
radius of twenty miles of the Beach.
Of all the merry-makers in that party of mariners not one cared very
much what food was served for dinner at the Ponce de Leon, but every one
did take a personal interest in the groups of young people, the life of
society at that gay season in Palm Beach, and the fun they expected to
get out of the visit to the fashionable hotel and the evening hours
spent on shore.
Eleanor had hinted to Polly that it might be possible that Elizabeth
Dalken would find a number of society friends from New York at the
hotel, and so she did.
Naturally they came buzzing about her, and, to impress her yachting
associates with her social prestige, she smiled sweetly upon the trio,
and accepted their invitation to go with them. Elizabeth did not deem it
necessary to ask her father’s consent to leave his party and attach
herself to that of her newly-found friends from New York; neither did
she hesitate to go with them minus a proper chaperone, although she had
seemed very particular about criticising other girls who may have
overlooked Mrs. Grundy at times.
As Mr. Dalken was not present in the group when Elizabeth took French
leave, and Mrs. Courtney was not asked about a chaperone for that
evening, the girl hurried away to enjoy herself as she saw best. Mr.
Dalken, returning soon after her departure, seemed amazed that she had
gone, but he said nothing at the time and immediately turned his full
attention to the entertainment of his guests.
Polly and Eleanor had insisted that the younger members in the party
dress in their very best. This called for Mrs. Courtney and her elderly
friends to dress up to the standard set by the girls. And this,
naturally, compelled the men to give more attention to their evening
clothes and general appearances than they might have done without this
spur from the ladies. Hence it happened that not a single unit of gay
persons at dinner that night in the magnificent hotel could surpass the
appearances of Mr. Dalken’s party. As he remarked later:
“It was to be expected of such an extraordinary bouquet of beautiful
females as I conducted from my yacht. Others might have shown costlier
jewels and handsomer gowns but not one could compete with my flowers
where beauty was the test.”
As it mattered little at what hour the passengers went back to the
yacht, they made the most of this gay evening on shore. John and Anne
Brewster were to leave the party the next day and start back to New York
for a week before returning to Pebbly Pit Ranch. And Tom Latimer, now
that Polly expected to be away from New York for many months, felt
inclined to accompany his friends back to his work at Choko Mines.
Perhaps it was his salvation that Polly decided to take this cruise,
otherwise he may never have found courage or inclination enough to go
back to his mining interests.
Having danced herself breathless, Polly finally consented to hear Anne’s
whispered suggestion that she leave a few moments to Tom before he got
mad and walked back home. With a little laugh Polly sent Jack Baxter a
sorry look and told him to go find Elizabeth for a dancing partner.
“But I’d rather dance with you, Polly. What is Mrs. Brewster saying to
you that makes you look so remorseful?” replied he.
“I’m telling Polly of a very urgent duty, Jack, and you know, as well as
I, that you must not monopolize _all_ her time this evening,” retorted
Anne.
“Well, seeing that I am going to be one of the passengers on Dalky’s
yacht for a long time, I believe I _will_ release Polly to Tom for a
short time,” remarked Jack in a casual tone.
“Oh! You are not really going on the yacht, are you?” exclaimed Polly.
“Why? Do you object to my company?” demanded Jack.
“Oh, no! It will be lots livelier with Ray and you on board. But no one
has mentioned it before, so I naturally thought you and Ray were here
for a short visit at the Beach, then planned to go back to New York to
continue your studies,” explained Polly.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Jack in a thoughtful manner, “I’ve convinced
Dalky that the great mining interests of the Argentine need my personal
investigation. You must not forget that a great deal of my fortune is
invested in mining shares in South America; and these mining companies
have their central offices at Buenos Aires. Dalky can tell you that a
visit to these brokers, now and then, makes them sit up and take notice
of you. Otherwise they might ignore your dividends, you see.”
Anne jeered at such an explanation for Jack’s hurried decision to visit
South America. “I can safely vouch for your remaining in the United
States, were it not for the fact that you find a bevy of pretty girls on
your guardian’s yacht too alluring for you to renounce. You plan to get
the most fun out of this cruise and then go your way, leaving a string
of broken hearts behind you. That is the reputation you have, I find.”
Anne laughed as she shook a finger at Jack.
“My reputation for drawing and then breaking hearts can never reach the
championship winner and breaker that Polly is. Who can ever ignore that
European tour when the subject of hearts is being discussed?” Jack shook
his head in pretended sorrow for those rejected suitors on the “Other
Side.”
Polly made an impatient sound with the tip of her tongue against her
white little teeth, and Jack laughed.
“Just for that I am going without a single word of regret for the dances
I promised you and now withhold,” said Polly, turning and running away
to join the group sitting under a great palm on the balcony.
Here she found Tom moodily talking with John. But the moment Polly
touched him on the shoulder and said: “Are we going for a little walk on
the beach?” he brightened up wonderfully.
Polly felt that she owed Tom this short time before he would have to
return west on his mining work. Also she felt that she had treated him
too sternly in punishment of his short-comings. Of course, Tom had no
idea that Polly considered his slavish attentions as short-comings.
As the two sauntered away from the hotel and turned in the direction of
the marvellous beach, Polly began the conversation by remarking, in a
cool, mature manner: “Now don’t go and talk of bosh, Tom, just because I
invited you for a stroll.”
“What do you mean by bosh?” demanded Tom, ready with a chip on his
shoulder.
“Oh, pooh! You know what I mean—your soft talk of love. I just won’t
listen to it morning, and night, and at every moment of the day. You are
the dandiest pal with Nolla and Ruth and Nancy—why not with me?”
Tom wisely held his peace. He could have answered in his own way, but he
knew that would call forth a new tirade against his ideas of possession.
Not having a reply from her escort with which to continue the argument,
Polly found herself shut up on the subject. And wisely she, too,
launched out upon an entirely opposite topic.
“Some one told Dalky not to stop at Hayti because the natives were so
treacherous to white folks,” remarked Polly. “I did so want to see the
Island we hear so much about. I’ve read of the voodoo religion, and the
way the sacred snake charmers strike terror into the souls of their
congregations, and I’d love to see them.”
“I think Dalken is absolutely right in not taking chances with you girls
in landing at Hayti. Morally the Haytians are not to be trusted. All the
old superstitions of barbaric Africa prevail to such an extent that no
right-minded person wishes to visit there. I am surprised, Polly, that
you can entertain the least desire to see what every one knows to be a
deplorable condition of affairs.” Tom spoke in a fatherly way that
caused Polly to smile, but he did not see her face. Perhaps he would not
have continued in the same strain had he thought she was amused instead
of being advised.
“Yes, Hayti is an unsafe place for civilized women to go to; not only do
the authorities ignore the rights of a people under their government,
but they seem to have no regard for human lives. I recently read an
article in a magazine in which it stated that one unfortunate
circumstance about Kingston, the capital of Jamaica, was its convenience
to Hayti—all the escaping criminals and refugees from justice jumped
aboard a sailing craft and in a few hours were landed upon the shores of
that beautiful isle whence they could not be taken except through
extradition papers.”
“How intensely thrilling to me is all this political information. I’m
sure I shall never wish to see a voodoo service after hearing you speak
of government and politics,” laughed Polly.
Tom now turned and stared at the girl. Was she in earnest about saying
she cared nothing for Hayti now, or was she ridiculing his advices? To
keep her companion in doubt as to her motive, Polly changed the subject
again.
“I shall delight in visiting Jamaica, and Porto Rico, perhaps the
Barbados, before we go through the Panama Canal. Dalky says that, should
it be impossible for a stop at the Barbados on our way down to South
America, he will see that the Captain surely stops there on our return.
Have you any warnings to give concerning the natives of the Caribbean
Isles?”
“I don’t know a thing about them! I never visited Hayti, you know, but I
merely told you what learned and wise men say of it.” Tom’s tone was not
very sweet, and Polly realized that her last words had offended his
sensitive heart.
“Let’s talk of Pebbly Pit and Choko’s Mine,” said she with forced joyous
anticipation in her voice. She felt sure she knew all that Tom would say
in order to prove to her that she ought to marry him and live out on the
ranch with her family. This time Tom disappointed her, however.
“I have nothing new to tell you about Pebbly Pit, because you know as
well as I do that I have been in New York too long to be able to speak
of what may be taking place out on the ranch. But one thing I can speak
of, and even that is not yours or my business, I suppose, and that is
the queer triangle on board the White Crest—do you get me?”
“A triangle! No, I do not get you, Tom. What is it?”
“Well, then, I know just as well as if you had told me, that Nolla and
you are match-making between Dalky and Mrs. Courtney. And I might add,
that I can advise you to watch your step, but of course, you will throw
back your head and give me a glance of disdain, hence I will not warn
you. This much I can say, nevertheless, and that is: Look out for
Elizabeth Dalken, if you think Nolla and you can pull little Cupid’s bow
and arrows to suit yourselves. You’ve got the third angle of the
proposition when you have Elizabeth with whom to reckon. She is worldly
wise and she won’t hesitate to use every bit of knowledge she possesses
to thwart such a scheme for her father.”
Polly looked serious. “Did you really guess that much? How did you do
it, when Nolla and I have been models of discretion? Not even Dalky or
Mrs. Courtney, or the Fabians dream of the match.”
“Maybe it is because I am so miserably in love myself, that I
intuitively feel for any one else who may be in the same boat.”
Tom’s tone and hopeless manner caused Polly intense amusement though she
managed to hide the fact from him. However, she was in earnest now,
regarding this matter about the matchmaking, and she wanted to get Tom’s
valuable suggestions on the matter.
“Well,” returned Tom to her anxious questioning, “one always gets into
hot water when matchmaking between two persons, especially if those two
have had a taste of matrimonial troubles. But I know Nolla and you well
enough to see that you will not give up a pet plan until you are driven
to desperation over its failure. With Elizabeth Dalken to frustrate
every tête-à-tête, or other plans to throw these two mature hoped-for
lovers together, what will you do? Either come out boldly and show your
cards, or call that girl’s bluff, or in some way be the means of
shipping her back home.”
“Well, how can we call her bluff when she won’t admit us to her
confidence?” asked Polly, eagerly.
“Watch opportunities! But it will be easier to ship her back home, if
you can get her deeply interested in an objective in going north and
allowing you-all to continue your voyage.”
“Show me the objective and I’ll do it! She’s getting on everybody’s
nerves, as it is. And I verily believe that Dalky is heartily sorry he
had her come,” declared Polly.
“One objective would be to induce her to remain at Palm Beach, now that
she is here with friends, and get her father to give her a sufficient
inducement in cash to tear herself away from the yacht and the
prospective voyage. Another objective might be Jack Baxter. She knows he
is enormously wealthy, and it is her sole aim and ambition to marry a
fortune and a good family name. She would get both in Baxter, but I
doubt if Jack would fall for her. However, if he could be induced to
pose as a cavalier, and cut short his trip to South America, I’m sure
the girl would follow—providing she had a satisfactory chaperone to give
the entire proceeding Mother Grundy’s approval.”
Polly frowned down both of the propositions. “She won’t remain at Palm
Beach because she has been here too often to have it afford her any
novelty now. On the other hand we can’t expect Jack Baxter to place his
head upon the block for execution, just to please us in ridding
ourselves of the girl. Why, Elizabeth might claim Jack as a suitor, and
then drive poor Jack to desperate steps in order to show he is a
gentleman!”
While they were discussing such weighty matters the two had turned and
were walking back again in the direction of the hotel. Neither one had
seen the moonlight on the sea, nor had they realized that they had
strolled across the hard beach and back again—so full of plans were they
over the little plot for happiness for their two good friends. Now they
came to the Palm Walk again.
“Where _have_ you two been?” demanded Eleanor, impatiently.
“We’ve spent half an hour looking for you. Dalky wants us to find
Elizabeth and start back for the yacht,” added Nancy Fabian.
“We will have no trouble in starting for the yacht, but to find
Elizabeth is quite a different matter,” laughed Tom.
John Brewster now came over to Tom and spoke. “Anne and I are going to
pack our bags and come back on shore to-night, as Dalken says the
Captain wishes to resume the voyage early in the morning. I thought you
would want to get your bag, too, and come back with us. If you prefer
remaining here, Anne says she can pack the suitcase and spare you the
trip.”
“No, thank you! I’ll go with you and see as much of Polly as I can,
before leaving her to sail away with no certain future for me in it!”
exclaimed Tom, positively. John smiled.
The bell-boys having sought about quickly in every direction of the
hotel and gardens returned, one by one, with the reply that Miss
Elizabeth Dalken failed to respond to their calls. Mr. Dalken tipped
each page as he reported to him, and then turned to his friends.
“There’s nothing for it, but that I hunt her up myself, and permit you
to go on to the yacht alone. I’ll come as soon as I locate my daughter.”
Polly caught a sympathetic glance from Mrs. Courtney’s eye in the
direction of the troubled host, then the guests accepted the inevitable
and left the man to seek Elizabeth in every niche and corner of the vast
resort.
As the group of guests from the White Crest got near to the wharf where
they had left the yacht, they were astonished to see the craft gone.
They looked at each other and then all around to reassure themselves
that they were not dreaming. A young colored night watchman on the dock
saw the wondering expressions on their faces and spoke up.
“You-all a-lookin’ foh dat white yacht from Noo Yoork?”
“Yes, my boy; what can you tell us about it?” asked Mr. Ashby.
“Why, not much; onny, ’bout a nour ago, ’long comes a fine pert missy
wid a lot of swells, an’ dey gits on bo’hd. Den de skippeh what was lef
to watch the boat, comes off a’fumin’ mad, an’ says he’s goin’ to see
’bout dat! I heah’s him say somefin not werry nice to free er four dudes
lef’ on deck, but dey laffs and waves a han’, so off he goes threatenin’
to get the boss on de job to onct! Fust ting I knows, the yacht up and
sails away. I watches, ’cuz I got a stay on dis dock till mawnin’ and
keep an eye on decency, an’ sure ’nuff, dat boat goes dancing off down
coast. Lots of likker at a certain port dere, yuh see, and swells heah
takes a trip down ebery onct in a while.”
“And you haven’t seen a sign of the yacht since then?” demanded Mr.
Ashby, red hectic spots suddenly coming to his cheeks as symbols of his
ire at such high-handed treatment of his friend.
“Beggin’ yur pawdon, suh, but I knows two of dem dudes, an’ I doubts if
dey kin sail that yacht back straight to-night, if dey gets what dey
sets out foh gittin. F’om all I heah said, dey went foh jus’ such a
time.”
At this disturbing information, Mr. Ashby joined the negro for a moment
and at his advice, turned and said: “Fabian, I’m going back for Dalken,
but what had you-all better do meantime?” Mr. Ashby seemed anxious to
meet his friend before he should come to the dock and learn the news
from others.
“We will wait here for orders. The yacht may come in while you are gone,
and in that case we will try to straighten out matters, and see that
Elizabeth’s friends get quickly out of the way of her father’s righteous
indignation.”
The moment Mr. Ashby left, Mrs. Courtney went over to the mulatto youth
and spoke in a low voice. He replied in a tone too low to be heard by
any one but the lady with him. Then she slipped him some money and
returned to her own party.
“I learned that no older woman was in the party with Elizabeth, but a
young divorcee and the several men who seemed past forty. I had judged
from Elizabeth’s uncompromising attitude to us in our disregard to
little matters concerning dinner dress and social nothings, that she
would have been most strict and careful in such a delicate situation as
this which she has brought about.”
Mr. Ashby had secured the names of the ports where those with enough
money might secure liquor in spite of the dry laws, and it was his plan
to hire the fastest car to be had and drive Dalken along the shore until
they found the yacht and the runaways.
In telling the story to his friend, Mr. Ashby purposely shielded
Elizabeth by making it appear that she was misled by her friends. But
Mr. Dalken was not to be hoodwinked. He was an experienced man of the
world, and he understood present-day flapperdom perfectly.
“Why take an automobile when we might get a launch and go on their
track? I’m sure the launch would prove best, and it may be possible to
find a large enough power launch to accommodate our party. Then we need
not return to this hateful place. We can ship back the society cads in
the launch and go on our way as planned.” Mr. Dalken seemed to consider
the case with more coolness and sense than his friend had done.
“What about John and Anne and Tom? They expected to go ashore here,
after getting their bags. And how about the crew?”
“John and Anne and Tom can leave us at Miami as well as at Palm Beach.
As for the crew; the Captain’s orders were for every man to be on hand
at the yacht at twelve. It is now past the time, and doubtless they will
be waiting on the dock,” explained Mr. Dalken, having looked at his
watch and then slipped it back into his pocket.
As predicted, the crew were all at the dock, standing in small groups;
the Captain stood with Mr. Fabian, wondering what would be the outcome
of this escapade. Mr. Dalken seemed perfectly cool and self-possessed as
he called to the Captain.
“Get a craft at once—large enough to take us all. You understand,
Captain Blake, that price is nothing now!”
The same negro youth, who had been the informer in the first place, now
spoke up. “I knows whar you-all kin hire a fine big gaserline launch—my
boss rents it out ebery day. I kin sen’ yuh dere.”
Giving Captain Blake minute directions to find the boat which was not
far off, the negro gladly pocketed another windfall of money from the
owner of the White Crest.
In less than twenty minutes the launch came alongside the wharf and its
owner stepped out. “It’s the quickest and safest boat in Florida. Many’s
the trip I takes to Havana during the season.”
Thus the weary party gladly got into the launch, and its owner started
on the way to seek for and find the White Crest.