AN EXCITING PICNIC
Molly's suggestion was so dazzling that Midget and Kitty were struck dumb
for a moment. Then Marjorie said, "No, Grandma won't let us girls go on
the river alone, and Carter isn't up yet."
"Let's throw pebbles and wake him up," said Molly.
"No," said Kitty, "it's too bad to wake him up early, because he needs
his rest. He has to work hard all day, and he has the rheumatism besides.
But I'll tell you what," and again Kitty's face glowed with a great idea;
"let's go and throw pebbles at King's window, and make him take us out
rowing."
"Kitty, getting up early in the morning agrees with your brain!" declared
Marjorie. "We'll do just that,--and while King is dressing, we'll pack
a basket of things to eat. Oh, gorgeous! Come on, girls!"
And clasping hands, the three ran away toward Grandma Sherwood's house.
"What about Stella?" asked Marjorie, as they passed her house.
"Oh, don't try to get her," said Molly; "she'd be scared to death if you
pebbled her, and her mother and father would think the house was on fire
or something."
So Stella was not included in the picnic, and the three conspirators ran
on, and never paused until they were beneath King's window.
"You don't need a whole handful for him," advised Kitty. "I expect he's
awake, anyway, and one pebble will make him come to the window. See, the
window's open anyway; we can just fling a pebble in."
"If we can aim straight enough," said Molly.
After one or two vain attempts, Kitty sent a good-sized pebble straight
through the open window, and it landed on the floor straight beside
King's bed.
In another moment a tousled head and a pair of shoulders, humped into a
bathrobe, appeared at the window.
Seeing the girls, King's face broke into a broad grin. "Well, you do beat
all!" he cried. "Have you been out all night?"
"No," called Kitty, "we're just playing around in the morning. It's
perfectly lovely out, King, and we're going to have a picnic, rowing on
the river. But we can't go unless you'll come too, so bob into your
clothes and come, won't you?"
"You bet I will! Isn't anybody up?"
"Nobody but us," said Marjorie; "so don't make any noise. Slide down the
back stairs and through the kitchen."
"Got any feed for your picnic?"
"We're going to get some. You hurry down and we'll be ready."
"All right," and the tousled head disappeared. The girls went noiselessly
into the kitchen and on through into the pantry. As Marjorie had
surmised, the pantry shelves were well-stocked, and they found doughnuts,
little pies, and cold chicken in abundance. Kitty found a goodly-sized
basket, and remembering King's appetite, they packed it well.
"Here's some hard-boiled eggs," cried Marjorie, "let's take these."
"I 'spect Eliza wants them for salad or something," said Kitty, "but she
can boil more. We must take some milk, Midget."
"Yes, here's a big pitcher full. Let's put it in a tin pail to carry it.
The milkman will be here in time for breakfast."
And so when King came softly downstairs, with his shoes in his hand, he
found the luncheon basket packed, and the feminine portion of the picnic
all ready to start.
"Good work!" he said, approvingly, as he lifted the basket, greatly
pleased with its size and weight.
Molly carried the milk pail, Kitty some glasses and Marjorie some napkins
and forks, for she was of a housewifely nature, and liked dainty
appointments.
"Maybe we ought to leave a note or something," said Kitty, as they
started.
"Saying we've eloped," said King, grinning.
"Don't let's bother," said Marjorie; "they'll know we're just out playing
somewhere, and we'll be back by breakfast time,--it isn't six o'clock
yet."
"You won't want any breakfast after all this stuff," said Molly, whose
appetite was not as robust as the Maynards'.
"'Deed we will!" declared King; "this little snack is all right for six
o'clock, but I have an engagement at eight in the dining-room."
They trudged along to the boathouse, and, as they might have expected,
found it locked.
"I'll get it," said Molly; "I'm the swiftest runner, and I know where the
key hangs in Carter's workshop."
King watched Molly admiringly as she flew across the grass, her long,
thin, black legs flinging out behind her with incredible quickness.
"Jingo, she can run!" he exclaimed, and indeed it seemed but a moment
before Molly flashed back again with the key.
The quartet was soon in the boat, and with a few strokes, King pulled out
into mid-stream.
"Let's have the picnic first," he said, shipping his oars. "I can't row
when I'm so hungry. This morning air gives a fellow an appetite."
"It does so," agreed Marjorie; "and we girls have been out 'most an hour.
I'm 'bout starved."
So they held a very merry picnic breakfast, while the boat drifted along
with the current, and the cold chicken and biscuits rapidly disappeared.
"Now, where do you girls want to go?" asked King, as, the last crumb
finished, Kitty carefully packed the napkins and glasses back in the
basket.
"Oh, let's go to Blossom Banks," said Marjorie, "that is, if there's time
enough."
"We'll go down that way, anyhow," said King, "and if it gets late we'll
come back before we get there. Anybody got a watch?"
Nobody had, but all agreed they wouldn't stay out very long, so on they
went, propelled by King's long, strong strokes down toward Blossom Banks.
It was a delightful sensation, because it was such a novel one. To row on
the river at six o'clock in the morning was a very different proposition
from rowing later in the day. Molly and Marjorie sat together in the
stern, and Kitty lay curled up in the bow, with her hands behind her
head, dreamily gazing into the morning sky.
"Do you remember, Molly," said Midget, "how we went out with Carter one
day, and he scolded us so because we bobbed about and paddled our hands
in the water?"
"Yes, I remember," and Molly laughed at the recollection. "Let's dabble
our hands now. May we, King?"
"Sure! I guess I can keep this boat right side up if you girls do trail
your hands in the water."
And so the two merry maidens dabbled their hands in the water, and
growing frolicsome, shook a spray over each other, and even flirted drops
into King's face. The boy laughed good-naturedly, and retaliated by
splashing a few drops on them with the tip end of his oar.
King was fond of rowing, and was clever at it, and being a large,
strong boy, it tired him not at all. Moreover, the boat was a light,
round-bottomed affair that rowed easily, and was not at all hard to
manage.
King's foolery roused the spirit of mischief in the two girls, and faster
and faster flew the drops of water from one to another of the
merrymakers.
"No fair splashing!" cried King. "Just a spray of drops goes."
"All right," agreed Marjorie, who was also a stickler for fair play, and
though she dashed the water rapidly, she sent merely a flying spray, and
not a drenching handful. But Molly was not so punctilious. She hadn't the
same instinct of fairness that the Maynards had, and half intentionally,
half by accident, she flung a handful of water straight in King's face.
This almost blinded the boy, and for a moment he lost control of his oar.
An involuntary move on his part, due to the shock of the water in his
face, sent the blade of one oar down deep, and as he tried to retrieve
it, it splashed a whole wave all over Molly.
But Molly thought King intended to do this, and that it was merely part
of the game, so with one of her lightning-like movements, she grasped
the blade of the oar in retaliation. The oar being farther away than she
thought, and rapidly receding, caused her to lean far over the boat, and
in his effort to get his oar again in position, King, too, leaned over
the side.
The result was exactly what might have been expected. The narrow,
clinker-built boat capsized, and in a moment the four children were
struggling in the water.
Even as the boat went over, King realized what had happened, and
realized, too, that he was responsible for the safety of the three girls.
With fine presence of mind he threw his arm over the keel of the upturned
boat and shouted, "It's all right, girls! Just hang on to the boat this
way, and you won't go down."
Marjorie and Molly understood at once, and did exactly as King told them.
They were terribly frightened, and were almost strangled, but they
realized the emergency, and struggled to get their arms up over the boat
in the manner King showed them.
But Kitty did not so quickly respond to orders. She had not been paying
any attention to the merry war going on in the stern of the boat, and
when she was suddenly thrown out into the water, she could not at first
collect her scattered senses. King's words seemed to convey no meaning to
her, and to his horror, the boy saw his sister sink down under the water.
"Hang on like fury, you two girls!" he shouted to Marjorie and Molly, and
then he made a dive for Kitty.
King was a good swimmer, but, hampered by his clothing, and frightened
terribly by Kitty's disappearance, he could not do himself justice. But
he caught hold of Kitty's dress, and by good fortune both rose to the
surface. King grabbed for the boat, but it slipped away from him, and
the pair went down again.
At this Marjorie screamed. She had been trying to be brave, yet the sight
of her brother and sister being, as she feared, drowned, was too much
for her.
"Hush up, Marjorie!" cried Molly. "You just keep still and hang on! I can
swim!"
With an eel-like agility Molly let go of the boat, and darted through the
water. She was really a good swimmer, and her thin, muscular little limbs
struck out frantically in all directions. Diving swiftly, she bumped
against Kitty, and grasping her arm firmly, she began to tread water
rapidly. As King was doing this on the other side of Kitty, the three
shot up to the surface, and King and Molly grasped the boat with firm
hands, holding Kitty between them.
Kitty was limp, but conscious; and though King was exhausted, he held on
to Kitty, and held on to the boat, with a desperate grip.
"Wait a minute, girls," he gasped, sputtering and stammering; "I'll be
all right in a minute. Now as long as you hold fast to the boat, you
know you can't drown! How are you getting along, Mops?"
"All right," called Marjorie from the other side of the boat; "but I want
to come over there by you."
"Don't you do it! You stay there and balance the boat. It's lucky you're
a heavyweight! Now you girls do exactly as I tell you to."
King did not mean to be dictatorial, but he was getting his breath back,
and he knew that although their heads were above water, still strenuous
measures were necessary.
"What shall we do?" shouted Marjorie.
"Well, we must try to get this boat to shore. And as we're much nearer
the other shore than our own side, we'll try to get it over there, for we
don't want to cross the river. Now hang on tight, and wiggle your feet
like paddles. If you kick out hard enough, I think we can get the old
thing ashore."
It wasn't an easy task, nor a quick one, but after a while, by vigorous
kicking, in accordance with King's continued directions, they did succeed
in reaching shallow water.
"Now we can walk," said King, "but we may as well hang on to the boat and
not let her drift away."
So half scrambling, half crawling, the children pushed through the
shallow water and up on to the shore, dragging the upturned boat with
them. The shore just here was shelving and sandy, otherwise it is
doubtful if they could have reached it at all. But at last four
shivering, dripping children stood on solid ground, and looked at each
other.
"You're an old trump, King," cried Marjorie, flinging her arms around
her brother's neck, and kissing his wet cheeks; "you're a hero, and a
life-saver, and a Victoria Cross, and everything!"
"There, there, Midget, come off! I didn't do anything much; Molly here
did the most, but, thank goodness, we all got out alive! Now what shall
we do next?"
Kitty had recovered entirely from her dazed and stunned feeling, and was
again her practical and helpful self.
"We must run," she said, "we must run like sixty! That's the only way to
keep from catching cold in these wet clothes!"
"Can't we build a fire, and dry ourselves?" asked Molly, who was
shivering with cold.
"No, of course not," said Kitty, "for we haven't any matches, and if we
had they'd be soaked. No, we must run as hard as we can tear along this
bank until we get opposite Grandma's house, and then they'll have to come
over and get us somehow."
"How'll they know we're there?" asked Molly.
"I'll yell," said Marjorie, quite confident of her powers in this
direction. "I'll yell,--and I just _know_ I can make Carter hear me!"
"I'll bet you can!" said King. "Come on then, let's run. Take hold of
hands."
With King and Midget at either end of the line, and the other two
between, they ran!