CAUGHT IN THE SWAMP
The closer friends of the three chums from Woodford declared afterward
that they had been sure Kate would balk at shaking hands with Nan.
"I never thought she would do it," Nan herself said, in relating the
incident to Jo afterward. "When I saw her come forward and take my
hand, I honestly thought I'd faint! The surprise was almost too much
for your Nan!"
However, Miss Romaine had a way of compelling obedience, even from
girls like Kate.
The congratulations were performed with a poor grace, to be sure, but
they were performed. The moment was one of victory for Nan and of
defeat for Kate.
Yet the latter stepped back with a toss of her head that declared her
far from subdued yet. She flashed a look at Nan that was full of enmity.
"I'll get even," said the look. "You just wait!"
After a few more words about the admirable quality of good
sportsmanship, Miss Romaine dismissed them.
Nan and Sadie, with Jessie and Doris, made at once for their room where
they poured the whole story into Jo's sympathetic and anxious ear.
"Glory be!" cried the latter, turning a hand-spring of delight and
landing in some mysterious manner upon the bed. "The ship is ours
again! The enemy is routed! All's well with the world!"
"Don't crow too soon," warned Sadie dubiously. "Those two can bear
watching, let me tell you."
But for some time after the incident of the match it looked as though
Kate and Lottie were effectually subdued.
Following the match came a quiet Sunday and then two weeks of hard work
in the classrooms. The three chums were doing well, although Sadie
had hard work to keep up in mathematics and Nan rather lagged in her
French. Jo went along swimmingly except for a little "flop," as she
expressed it, in physics.
During those days letters came from home. Nan's Aunt Emma was doing as
well as could be expected, but Nan could understand from her mother's
letter that the family had hoped the invalid would improve following
her act of standing on her feet during the fire scare.
"Oh, if only she could stand again--and walk!" exclaimed Nan to her
chums.
"Wouldn't it be grand!" returned Sadie.
"It's queer the doctors can't do _something_," breathed Jo.
Poor Jo had her own sorrow--and the others knew it and sympathized with
her thoroughly. Mr. Morley was struggling to make both ends meet. And
so far nothing had been seen or heard of Andrew Simmer, the rascally
fellow who had caused the trouble.
"I feel almost as if I ought to go home and help Mother," said Jo, more
than once.
"No, you had better stay here and get a good education," replied
Nan. "In the end, that may help more than anything else. With a good
education you'll stand a better chance of earning good money."
The second Saturday after the tennis match was a beautiful day--one of
those warm fall days that seems an echo of mid-summer. Since the chums
from Woodford and some of their friends had been planning all week for
a row up the lake with a picnic at the farther end of it, they greeted
the dawn of this perfect Saturday joyfully and as one that had been
made especially for their outing.
Sadie and Jo had kept up their practice with the oars and were by
this time as enthusiastic over it as Nan was over tennis. They were
becoming very skillful, and were impatiently awaiting Miss Talley's
announcement as to the exact day of the proposed boat races.
"In the meantime, we'll show you how good we are," said Jo, as the
chums joyfully shouldered lunch baskets and started down to the dock.
There were several boatloads of girls who set off on the picnic that
fine Saturday, eager to enjoy the last outing of the sort they would,
perhaps, have before cold weather settled down upon them.
"This time of year the weather may change over night," said Gladys
Holt, as she put a fuzzy white sweater into the boat she and her chums
had appropriated. "To-morrow we may be wondering how we ever had the
nerve to come out to-day!"
The boats were, many of them--most of them, in fact--built with a
double set of oars and oar-locks. Two boats of this sort the Woodford
girls and their friends chose for the trip up the lake.
"Jo and I'll do the work," said Sadie to Nan. "You sit in the stern and
look handsome, Nan."
"If I sit in the stern I ought to look stern," retorted Nan, and at
this feeble witticism the girls laughed happily. It was the kind of day
that made them laugh at almost anything!
"Don't let's follow the crowd," called Jessie, as her boat, safely
launched, floated out upon the bright surface of the lake. "Let's be
original."
"Right-o," agreed Jo. "Where'll we go?"
"To Huckleberry Island." It was Gladys Holt who spoke this time from
the neighboring boat, and she accompanied the words by a gesture of the
hand that indicated the black outline of an island far up the lake.
"Follow us, and you'll never repent it."
With a laughing wave of her hand, Jo assented. But Sadie looked
troubled.
"Huckleberry Island is a long distance up the lake," she said. "I don't
think Miss Romaine would want us to go so far."
"Oh, we've the whole day before us," Nan urged, stretching luxuriously
in the brilliant sunshine, like a kitten before a hearth. "Miss Jane
won't care as long as we don't stay out too late."
"Away dull care and let's be gay!" sang Jo, breaking into the strains
of a merry school song. The girls all joined her, and Sadie's protest
was heard no more.
They rowed lazily, for, as Nan had said, they had the whole day before
them. As they looked toward Laurel Hall they saw three more boatloads
of merrymakers push off from the shore.
"They are making for Maple Island," called Doris from Jessie's boat.
"And Kate Speed's one of them," said Sadie, which, Nan suggested, more
than half reconciled her to the long trip to Huckleberry Island.
They were more than half an hour on the trip up the lake and on the way
they passed several other interesting and picturesque islands.
Nan sighed contentedly.
"I don't think there's another such beautiful spot on the face of the
earth," she said.
"Well," judicially from Jo, "I haven't seen a great deal of the earth,
but I'll tell it, right from where I sit, that this is good enough for
me!"
They at last rounded a turn in the lake, and a shout from Jessie in the
boat ahead warned them that they had reached Huckleberry Island.
This was really one of the largest islands in the lake and was well
known, especially to those living in that vicinity, for at one end of
the island was a large huckleberry swamp where the huckleberry bushes
grew to unusual size. Earlier in the season these great bushes had been
loaded with fruit, much to the delight of the many country folks who
rowed over to the island to pick them.
"Here so soon!" cried Nan regretfully. "I could float like this all
day."
Sadie looked at her severely.
"Going home, my dear, you will do some of the work!"
The boats came to rest in a tiny inlet where the gently shelving shore
formed a perfect landing place.
"We'll tie the boats here and then go up to eat," Jessie Robinson
stated. "I'm famished already."
As this seemed to be a state peculiar to them all, no one demurred, and
they went at once in search of a pretty spot where they could spread
their lunch.
They found the ideal place almost immediately--a level space abounding
in flat rocks and commanding a good view of the lake.
"It's a lot better here than on the other end of the island," said
Gladys, as she delved hungrily into one of the baskets. "Chicken
sandwiches--hum! And chocolate cake--not so bad!"
"What's the matter with the other end of the island?" demanded Jo,
through a mouthful of hard-boiled egg.
"There are huckleberry bushes--loads of 'em," Doris said.
"But they grow right in an awful swamp," Jessie added. "And if you
don't watch your step, you're apt to get more swamp than huckleberries.
Several people have tried it, and they know!"
"Sounds interesting," said Jo, rummaging for more hard-boiled eggs. "If
we haven't enough lunch we can finish up on huckleberries--if there are
any left."
When the contents of the baskets were exhausted she rose to make good
her boast, despite the lazy protests of the girls.
"Sit down, can't you?" cried Gladys Holt. "The sight of so much energy
makes me tired."
"The sight of so much sloth makes _me_ tired!" retorted Jo
severely. "If you want to sit there, like so many lizards basking in
the sun, you may. Me, I'm going to hunt huckleberries!"
"We aren't lizards and there isn't any sun," retorted Doris. "And all
the huckleberries you'll find at this time of year you can put in a
thimble."
But Jo gave no sign that she heard. She was already disappearing
through the trees.
Nan rose with a weary sigh and Sadie followed suit.
"I suppose we've got to go after her," said the latter plaintively.
"There's no telling what she'd get into if left to her own devices!"
But Jo, hearing them, ran on ahead mischievously.
"I'll give them the hunt of their lives!" she chuckled. "The nerve of
them! Talking as though I needed a nurse!"
A few moments later Sadie and Nan caught sight of her through the trees
and gave full chase.
Laughing, breathless, looking over her shoulder at her pursuers, Jo did
not notice her danger until it was too late! Almost before she knew it
she was in the midst of the dangerous huckleberry swamp!
Her feet slipped from the firm earth into a slimy ooze. Mud and water
clutched at her ankles, drawing her down deeper into the slime the more
she struggled.
Jo looked about her wildly. On all sides rose huckleberry bushes, their
branches now bare save for a few dried berries here and there.
"The huckleberry swamp!" she cried.
Nan and Sadie were running toward her. She called out a warning to
them, but they did not understand--they thought she was still joking.
They did not understand until their feet, too, caught in the sticky
ooze. Then the laughter on their faces froze into fear.
"I tried to warn you!" cried Jo, half-sobbing. "It's the swamp! I tried
to warn you, but you ran straight on! Oh, why didn't you listen to me!"
Sadie tried to struggle and then gave a startled, strangled cry.
She had reached a deeper part of the marsh. She sank to her waist in
muck and water and on her face was a look of stark panic that was
terrible to see!