A MISHAP
"The tea was just right," declared Ed, "and I can't see why you will
not consent to let us entertain you for the remainder of the evening.
Just because the maid has not come down is surely no reason why you
should lose such a fine evening's sport."
"But we never leave the house entirely alone after dark," protested
Belle vaguely.
"Lucky house," put in Jack. "But I don't believe the cottage would
mind it the least bit, would you?" and he put his ear to the wall.
"No, it says to go ahead. Yes? What's that? Delighted? Of course, I
knew it would be. Nice Clover," and he patted the plain, white wall.
"Of course, you want the girls to go out with us in that dandy little
launch. I knew it! Now, girls, get ready. It is time to start."
"And no chaper--" they all protested.
"Quit!" shouted Walter. "I have it on good authority that when a
girl's brother is along, and when there are twins in the same party,
and when there are two fellows, near twins, in aforesaid same party,
that makes a cross-finger combination on the chaperon. She doesn't
have to come along."
Walter was looking his very best, which was always good, for the brown
boy was now browner than ever, with the tan of beach sand and sun.
Bess wore a most becoming linen gown, with just a rim of embroidered
pink around her plump neck, and she, too, looked charming. Then
Belle--Belle always wore dainty things, she was so perfectly blonde and
so bisquelike. Her gown was of the simplest silvery stuff that Jack
described as cloudy. Cora, after her auto trip of the afternoon, had
"freshed up" in dazzling white. She loved contrast, and invariably,
after driving, would don something directly opposite to that required
for motoring. Her dark hair looked blacker than usual against the
fleecy white, and her face was strictly handsome. Cora Kimball had
grown from pretty to handsome just as naturally as a bud unfolds into a
flower, with the attending dignity.
"If Cora thinks it's all right," weakened Bess.
"I don't see why we shouldn't go," replied Cora, "especially as the
boys cannot have the launch for another evening. But I suppose that
would mean a second change of dress," with a look at the flimsy
costumes about her.
"Why?" asked Jack.
"These--in the evening on the water?"
"Why not? Wear shawls or something----"
"Yes," assented Belle. "It is all right to be dressed up in a launch
when we don't have to motor the boat."
"Oh, I'll attend to the motoring," promised Ed. "I am the fellow who
borrowed the boat."
"Has Nettie a key?" asked Cora.
"I guess so," replied Bess. "We can leave the cellar window----"
"We can do nothing of the sort, Bess Robinson," interrupted Belle, "and
have that man sneak in? I guess not!"
"Oh, your man!" protested Jack. "Haven't you forgotten him yet?
That's what I call faithful."
"Well, at any rate, I am sure Nettie has her key," finished Bess. "And
there is only one more train. If she does not come----"
"I'll sleep in the hammock on the porch," volunteered Jack. "It would
be heaps better than melting in the bungalow to-night."
"I thought that bungalow was perfection," remarked Belle.
"It is--on the catalogue. But after a day's sun like to-day we just
put our ham and eggs on the corrugated iron roof, and they are done to
a turn in the morning, with nice little ridge patterns on them."
"If we are going sailing, we'd better be at it," Walter reminded them.
Whereat the girls ran off to get wraps, and shortly returned ready for
the trip.
Nor were the wraps lacking in beauty or usefulness. Cora had a family
shawl--the kind that defies description outside of the French-English
fashion papers. It was of the Paisley order, and did not seem to be
cut any place; at the same time it fell in folds about her arms and
neck with some invisible fastenings. Her hood was made from a piece of
the same wonderfully embroidered stuff--a big red star, with the points
drawn in. Bess and Belle both wore pretty cloaks of eiderdown. Bess
was in pink and Belle in blue.
"Take your guitar, Cora," suggested Ed. "We will have some singing."
"And you can play that piece--what is it? 'Love's Hankering?'" asked
Jack.
"'Love's Triumph,'" corrected Bess, "and it's the prettiest piece out
this summer. Cora plays it beautifully."
"It is pretty," confirmed Belle.
"Yes, I like it," admitted Cora. "As long as you are bent on a
romantic evening, we may as well have the little love song," and she
slipped the strap of her guitar case over her arm as they started off.
Jack took his banjo. He, too, liked the new summer "hit;" in fact,
every one was whistling it as well as they could, but it took tuned
strings to give it the correct interpretation.
It was delightful on the water. The smaller bay opened into another
and provided safe motor boating. The tide was slowly receding, and as
the party glided along, little moonlight-tipped waves seemed to caress
the launch. Jack and Cora were playing, Bess and Belle were humming,
while Walter was "breathing sounds" that could scarcely be classified,
and Ed was content to run the motor.
"Now, isn't that pretty?" asked Belle of Ed, as Cora and Jack finished
the popular piece.
"Very catchy," replied the young man.
"But Cora has given it a twist of her own," said Jack; "the end goes
this way," and he correctly played a few bars, "while Cora likes it
thusly," and he played a strain or two more in different style.
Was it the moonlight on the baby waves? was it the murmur of that
gliding boat? or was it something indefinable that so awakened the
sentiments of the party of gay motorists?
For some moments no one spoke; then Jack broke the spell with a lively
fandango, played in solo.
"This seems too good to last," prophesied Belle, with a sigh, "Do you
think it was all right to leave the cottage alone?"
"Now, Tinkle," and Walter moved as if to take her hand, "haven't we
assured you that the cottage expressly desired to be left alone
to-night, and that we fellows wanted your company?"
It was a pretty speech for Walter, and was not lost on the sensitive
Belle.
"How about sand bars, Ed?" asked Jack. "Might we run onto one?"
"We might, but I guess I could feel one coming. The tide is getting
away. We had better veer toward the shore."
"Oh! is there danger?" asked Belle, immediately alarmed.
"Not much," replied Ed, "but we wouldn't like to walk home from this
point." He was twisting the wheel so that the launch almost turned.
Then a sound like something grating startled them.
"Bottom!" exclaimed Jack, jumping up and going toward the wheel. "That
was ground, Ed!"
"Sounded a lot like it, but we can push off. Get that oar there,
Walter; get the other and----"
The launch gave a jerk and then stopped!
"Oh! what is it?" asked Bess and Belle in one voice.
"Nothing serious," Cora assured them. "You see, the tide has gone out
so quickly that it has left us on a sand bar. I guess the boys can
push off. They know how to handle oars."
But this time even skillful handling of oars would not move the launch.
Ed ran the motor at full speed ahead and reversed, but the boat
remained on the bar, which now, as the tide rapidly lowered, could be
plainly seen in the moonlight.
"What next?" asked Cora coolly.
"Hard to say," replied Ed, in rather a mournful tone. "If we had gone
down the bay, we would not have been alone, but I thought this upper
end so much more attractive to-night. However, we need not despair.
We can wait for the tide."
"Till morning!" almost shouted Belle.
"It's due at three-thirty," announced the imperturbable Walter.
"Oh! what shall we do?" wailed Bess.
"We might walk," suggested Cora. "It isn't very far to that shore, and
it's shallow."
"Mercy, no!" exclaimed Belle. "There are all sorts of holes in the mud
here. I would stay forever before I would try walking."
Cora laughed. She had no idea of being taken seriously.
"Now, you see," said Walter, "my wisdom in curtailing the chaperon.
Just imagine her now," and he rolled laughingly over toward Jack.
"Easy there! No need for artificial respiration or barrel-rolling just
yet," declared Jack. "In fact, if we had a bit of water, we'd be
thankful. Let me work the engine, Ed. Maybe I can give luck a turn
and get more push out of it."
Ed left his place, and Jack took it, but the sand bar held the little
launch like adamant, and it seemed useless to exert the gasoline power
further.
"Suppose we have the little ditty again," suggested Ed, taking a seat
near Cora. "What was it? 'Love's Latitude?'"
"No, 'Love's Luxury,'" asserted Walter, as he made a comical move
toward Belle. But Belle was disconsolate, and she only looked at the
moon. It was almost funny, but the humor was entirely lost on the
frightened girl.
"When in doubt play 'The Gypsy's Warning,'" suggested Cora, picking up
her guitar. "There is something bewitching about that tune."
"See if we can bewitch a wave or two with it," remarked Jack. "That
would fetch us in a little nearer to shore."
But the situation was becoming more serious each moment. There they
were--high though not exactly dry upon a big sand bar! Not a craft was
in sight, and none within call!
"If we only could trust the bottom, we fellows might get out and push
her off," suggested Walter, "but it wouldn't be nice to get right in
the line with Davy Jones' locker."
"Oh, please don't do that," begged Bess. "It will be better to stay
safely here and wait for the tide than to take any chance of losing----"
"Wallie. Sometimes he's Walter, but when it comes to the possibility
of our losing him, he's Wallie," declared Jack, clasping his arms
around the other boy's neck. "Starboard watch ahoy!"
"Right about face, forward march!" called Walter ridiculously.
"That's not the same set," corrected Jack. "This was another kind of a
watch--stem winder."
The jollying of the boys kept the girls from actually feeling the
seriousness of their plight. But to wait until morning for the tide!