for the hill designated. But a disappointment awaited them. The
merry-go-round was deserted with the sole exception of a small
tow-headed boy.
However Fred was equal to the emergency. “‘Come one, come all, these
steeds shall run around this track ’til set of sun,’” shouted he,
beckoning wildly.
But Mrs. Remington would not allow him to tamper with the engine or
carousel, so she questioned the small boy who turned out to be the
proprietor’s son.
“Now, you run and find your Daddy and tell him we want two dollars’
worth of rides!” promised Mrs. Remington.
At the munificent offer the bare-footed urchin showed a swift and
dusty pair of heels to the would-be riders, and soon returned with
both father and grandfather--the latter being the patriarch of the
money-till.
“Isn’t this fun! I’ve always wanted to ride on a merry-go-round!” cried
Trixie.
“Maybe you won’t think it fun after a ride!” said Paul.
“You just watch me and see!” boasted Trixie, smiling.
“I’m going to climb on the animals while we’re waiting for the man to
start up the engine,” proposed Billy.
“Me for the lion!” shouted Dudley, as he mounted the king of beasts.
“Paul, let’s ride the white horses side by side and pretend we’re
running a race,” suggested Trixie.
“Bet’che a cookie I’ll beat!” laughed Paul.
“You wouldn’t beat me if these were real horses! I can ride
anything--even a colt!” teased Trixie.
“Oh, well, that colt of the Captain’s was green and full of fire--the
Captain says so!” said Paul, defendingly.
The carousel began to turn slowly by this time and with many a wheeze
and groan, it gathered momentum. Every one laughed at its slowness
at first but the urging on of their steeds must have infected the
merry-go-round for it soon whirled at a surprising speed.
Mrs. Remington sat near the old white-bearded ticket chopper, watching
the different expressions on the children’s faces as the carousel went
round.
When the first slow circle was made Trixie had laughed merrily and
cried, “Oh, this is a real joy-ride!”
When it went somewhat faster, she remained silent, and as she spun
around on the horse, passing Mrs. Remington at rapid intervals, her
face looked grey and her eyes seemed fixed.
“Oh! we surely are going too fast!” gasped she, finally.
“Oh, no! We’ll go faster than this--just hold on!” cheered Paul.
“Oh, I’m sure I’m slipping off--oh, oh!” wailed Trixie.
“You’re all right--just stick on!” laughed Paul.
“O-oh--Paul--I’m getting so dizzy! I’ll fall!”
“I’ll steady you; here, grab hold of the horse with your knees and hang
on to the iron pole in front!” advised Paul.
“There goes my hat--and oh! the old thing has shaken out all my
side-combs!” came from Trixie, weakly.
“Never mind that--just hold on!”
“I ca-an-t hold ano-oth-er m-m-min-ute!”
“Keep a stiff upper lip, now, Trix! We’re slowing down!” encouraged
Paul, throwing an arm about the girl as she swayed uncertainly.
And indeed, the awful whirl did slacken and in a few more moments, with
one last “yawp” the hurdy-gurdy gave up the spirit--of music.
Then a very pale and shaky Trixie was lifted from the race-horse and
helped over to a seat beside Mrs. Remington.
“Oh, wasn’t it _awful_!” gasped she, shuddering.
“Awful! Why, it was great!” cried Dudley.
“I should say so! Look, I got the brass ring Trixie! Want it for
another try?” asked Billy, generously.
But Trixie thought “discretion to be the better part of valor.” She
knew from actual experience what a merry-go-round meant so she sat
contentedly by and watched the others whirl.
When even Billy had been sated with the dervish delight Mrs. Remington
led her escorts back to the wharf where they found Aunt Edith and Aunt
Flo-Flo had arrived from Rosemary by land.
When it was suggested that the girls start back with Aunt Flo-Flo at
once, there was a chorus of protests.
“We’re going to stay as long as anybody--and say good-bye,” retorted
Elizabeth, fearing she would miss some fun.
The two chiefly concerned in saying farewells thought this persistence
worthy of a greater if not a better object. But they consented to
the delay of the return party and in its own good time the “City of
Rockland” bore down upon the landing. Then the young folks had the
gratification of positively _knowing_ by evidence of their own sight,
that their guardians were well out of the way for a time.
“Oh, _gee!_ we won’t do a _thing_ while we’re boss!” sighed Billy, with
a great sense of the time before him.
“Some fun--I should say!” ejaculated Paul, while Dudley whistled a
medley of many tunes and fox-trots and tangos.
“But the Island Chief rules! Remember!” threatened Fred.
While on the way to Rosemary, the Islanders discussed the fact that
fine weather broke the hoo-doo of Trixie’s rain jinx.
“But it hoo-dooed her in another way--my! but she was green on that
carousel!” laughed Billy.
“I never thought Trix could look so sick!” added Dudley.
“I wasn’t sick a bit! I was only dizzy--only my head!” defended Trixie,
valiantly.
The boys laughed teasingly and Elizabeth looked off at the horizon
while groping for her poetic medium.
Finally, she turned to Trixie. “It’s a shame to wreck a perfectly good
poem for I love Tennyson dearly, but the aptness tempts me beyond
measure, so here goes!”
THE JINX THAT PURSUED TRIXIE
(With apologies to Tennyson)
Like souls that balance joy and pain,
With smiles and cries for help again,
Fair maiden Trixie flies with rein
Upon her good steed’s wooden mane.
The tin-pan music full of cheer,
Her friends’ loud laughter came between,
And far in ticket-box unseen
The Grey-beard gathered in the green
From Wita-tonkan there.
At times the organ piped its song,
What time ’twas loud, her seemed it long;
Sometimes her courser wheeled along,
Hushed all her cries of bitter wrong:
By laughing friends, with fuller sound,
In curves the wooden racers ran;
Her drooping head to bob began
Upon the Merry-go-round.
As in the boyhood of the year
Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere
Rode thro’ the converts--Pauly dear,
And Trixie galloped--she in fear,
She seemed apart from her steed’s spring!
A gown of fated check she wore,
Buckled with silver clasps before,
A light straw hat embroidered o’er
With woolen bird a-wing.
Now this way leaned she, now she let
Her fear the better of her get,
And more and more unsteadier yet,
Her nervous grasp Paul’s shoulder met!
And fiercer now she grasped the mane
Than she whose elfin courser springs
By night to eerie warblings;
While all the while that music rings,
And dins into her brain.
As she fled fast thro’ sun and shade,
The happy winds upon her played,
Loosing the ringlets from the braid;
She looked so helpless as she swayed,
Her hat one side a-tip,
Pauly had all that he could do
To keep himself from falling too;
He needed all the strength he knew,
To save her should she slip!
The classic thus converted by Elizabeth was hailed with loud acclaim
by the boys, but Trixie said never a word! How the poetess made her
“separate peace” was never told but Trixie was as friendly as ever the
next time the two appeared together.
Wednesday morning at the earliest permissible tide the Captain and the
boys were busy drilling into the ledge of Treasure Cove. The boys were
deeply interested when they realised that before another tide flowed
over that ledge a blast could be set off. In the meantime, they went
fishing and soon had a fine mess of cunners for their camp-lunch.
Knowing the extent of the boys’ appetites, Mose’s tender heart ached
in dread of empty stomachs and a raid on his pantry when he was not at
hand to defend the fort! So he brought a large pan full of biscuits
and “fixin’s on th’ side” to the cooks. The “fixin’s” comprising a
hearty meal by themselves.
“Oh, Mose, you needn’t to have taken this trouble--we’re just going to
live a simple life while mother’s away,” said Billy.
“Yes, you see, Mose, we’re now serving our toasted bread and baked
potatoes. Sit down and have some with us?” urged Paul.
Mose eyed the charred bread and half-cooked potatoes and winked at the
Captain. “Ah don’ b’lieve Ah will pa’take ov dis munifercence to-day!
But, t’ank yo’ all d’ same!”
The Captain felt very grateful for Mose for his additions to the menu,
so he added, “Oh, do sit down and be friendly, Mose.”
“Yes, Mose, I’m just cookin’ the cunners! They’re fine!” added Fred.
“Well, seein’ ez Ah fetched a bit from m’ own domain, Ah don’t min’ ef
Ah tas’ some cunners!” sighed Mose, who was fond of this fish.
As Fred served him a delicious slab of the broiled fish Mose remarked,
“Does tas’ kinder good t’ eat some odder chef’s cookin’. No t’anks,
Billy, Ah don’ guess Ah’ll have any pertates.”
The boys each took a potato and did their best to enjoy them but it was
not to be! The potatoes were more than half raw.
“Lemme tell you-all,” said Mose, after the potatoes had been replaced
on the fire, “taters take a heap o’ cookin’. Speshully when dey’se big
and not cut up.”
“Bring them here, boys, and I’ll show you what to do with them,”
offered Fred, taking the frying pan and dropping a chunk of butter in
it.
Then the boys watched and soon learned how to fry good potatoes--an art
many cooks lack.
“Now for the blast!” cried the Captain, when the dishes and pans had
been cleaned with sand and water.
“You boys watch Captain and me fix the fuse and then when we yell you
must run way up on the porch of mother’s retreat and stand there,”
ordered Fred.
The three boys were greatly surprised to see Captain Ed cut the
dynamite with his knife as if it were a cheese.
“It looks just like a roll of yellow plasticene!” said Dudley.
“It won’t act like one!” laughed Billy.
“You know last year, Captain and Fred blasted out the boulders for
our Council Place and we had to cover the rocks with logs and things
to keep them from flying through the air and smashing the windows,”
explained Billy, for Paul’s and Dudley’s benefit.
“Oh, did you blast for that Ring?” wondered Paul.
“I should think we did! We have to blast for everything! There isn’t a
level spot on the whole island. Did you think the pebbles grew so level
and smooth on that Council Place?” laughed Fred.
“I thought it had to be filled in where any hollows happened to be but
I didn’t know you had to blow off the bumps!” said Paul, in defence.
That made the Captain laugh, and he now turned and said: “Run to cover
now, boys! I’m goin’ to light th’ fuse!”
So the boys scrambled up the pathway while Fred and the Captain lit the
fuse and then ran to hide behind a big spruce. But Paul, curious to
note the effect of that harmless looking cheese, lingered behind the
other boys, thus hoping to get a closer view of the explosion.
Just as the terrific blast rumbled, Fred sighted the tardy boy. He
dashed out, grabbed him roughly, yanked him back to safety, and then
pitched into him.
“Don’t--you’re hurtin’ me, Fred!” whimpered Paul, with a better
realisation of his danger as the rocks began raining down upon the spot
where he had just stood.
“You ought to be hurt--good and plenty, too! Just so you’ll never do
such a fool thing again! I’m Chief of this Island, I’ll have you to
know, and you’ve _got to obey orders_!”
Billy and Dudley ran to see what had caused the quarrel and the
Captain, who had seen the rescue, came over to tell Paul a story as a
warning in the future.
“You boys know the light-house just down off Spruce Island? Well, last
year, ol’ Captain Ball was blastin’ out some rocks in the road near his
barn. He got keerless like at the last and stood too near--right out
in the open. And by heck! a chunk of rock as big as my two fists come
plumb down on top of his head and killed him then and thar! Not a minit
t’ think of what he wanted done ’bout things!”
After an impressive silence the Captain added with a certain feeling
of satisfaction: “But he had a grand funeral! The finest ever given in
these parts. One of them Dark Harbour millionaires lent the widder his
big private yacht to carry the remains to Metinicus, where the Cap’n
hailed from.
“Seein’ she hadn’t got to pay any costs for shippin’, Mrs. Ball put all
that money in a casket and it was so fine that it seemed like a shame
to put all them silver handles and satin puffs in the ground.
“Widder Ball invited _everybody_ to make the trip with the Cap’n an’
most every one accepted the invitation, too. Thar would have been room
on that yacht fer a few more--it was that big.
“Yes, sir! That was one grand funeral--what with red plush curtains and
willow arm-chairs everywhere! And a dining-room fixed up with painted
dishes and sparklin’ glass! I sometimes wish how old Cap’n Ball oughter
know about that trip--he would have felt better where he is, I’m sure!”
The boys had listened to the sudden ending of Captain Ball’s career
without due respect for dynamite and Captain Ed, finding Paul had not
been thoroughly frightened by his tale, drove it well home.
“But _you_ wouldn’t have a good time like Captain Ball! You’d be sent
home in a box and no yacht and crowd of folks to sail to your funeral!
So, just keep behind a tree after this!”
Paul suddenly realised how lonely he must feel if he was instantly
killed by a rock and freighted all the way from Maine to New Jersey,
and he felt contrite and humble for a full hour after the incident
closed.
The rest of the afternoon was given to preparing an old spar for the
flag-pole. It was about thirty feet in length so that all the boys
worked at the same time in sand-papering and polishing the wood.
“Next time I go over to the Cove I’ll have the blacksmith make a collar
to go around the mast-head, and then we’ll have it all ready for the
raisin’ bee before your mother comes back.”
“We want everything done and waiting so all we have to do when she
comes is to hoist the flag,” added Billy.
The following day Uncle Tom came over and announced that he was ready
to start the rifle-range and teach the boys how to handle a gun.
“Did they say we could?” asked Paul, eagerly, his desire to obey in
certain ways, tinctured by the tale about Captain Ball.
“Yes, the committee reported favorably providing that I would keep
watch of you all and never let you get reckless!”
So, the boys painted a large target on a packing case and set it up
against a rock where a clear range could be had. Uncle Tom chose a
spot where no danger to passing boatmen could be incurred.
The spy-glass was trained upon the target and each boy was allowed five
shots each turn. The use of the glass obviated the many tiresome trips
to and from the target to count the score for every boy.
Only between the turns did the Captain go to the board and put a dab of
paint on the marks made by each boy. During these intervals no one was
allowed to load or handle a gun.
Captain Ed made a splendid score with Fred’s Marlin 38-55 but Paul
and Dudley took a long time to get the proper range and sight. Their
bullets cut into the ledges right and left so that the Captain laughed
heartily.
“When we need more blastin’ done there’s no use wastin’ money for
dynamite--we’ll jus’ ask you two boys to aim at Treasure Cove and your
fire will blow off the top of the ledges!”
The others tittered but were too much engaged to care much whether the
Captain joshed them or not. Then, Fred, who stood at the spy-glass
called, “A hit for Paul!”
That spurred Dudley to better work so when it came his turn to try
he took great pains to aim carefully and was rewarded by seeing the
splinters fly from the packing-case.
Evening came all too soon for the joy of firing real rifles was
intoxicating to the boys. They begged Uncle Tom to be sure and come
over every day, as early in the morning as he could get away.
“Oh, but I’m scheduled to take the girls out on some of these days,” he
protested. “However, I’ll try to get in some regular practising hours
with you boys.”
The rifle-range was almost forgotten the next morning when Captain Ed
brought in the mail. An answer from Mr. Remington to Billy’s plea for
the launch, authorised him to “Go ahead and get it if the Captain says
it is all right!”
As that necessitated an immediate exodus from the island, an eager
pilgrimage started for the little landing near Saturday Cove, where lay
the coveted craft at her moorings.
To the disinterested eye she seemed old and shabby, to say nothing of
dirt. To Billy, however, she was a vision of beauty and a promise of
joy. The ex-owner took the lad for a trial spin so that he could learn
the tricks of the little engine.
Billy disdained the tow offered by Captain Ed and insisted upon
returning under his own power. Not for nothing had he watched and
helped for weeks with the Captain’s engines, hoping for the day when he
should be captain of his own launch.
That same night, as they lounged about Fred’s teepee, the Chief made a
suggestion.
“Now that Cap’n Bill has a launch suppose we make an aqua-plane? We
might start it to-morrow.”
The idea was met with delighted “Hows!” and in the morning all started
on the carpenter’s job.
The plane completed, the boys felt such a pride in the work that they
longed for some one to admire it. Besides, they had to have an audience
when they aqua-planed. So it came about, that all of the girls and Aunt
Flo-Flo were invited to a bathing party with aqua-planing on the side.
The boys drank greedily of the admiration freely poured out by the
girls as they stood about the plane. Finally, the girls were invited to
try it.
“Isn’t it awfully hard to manage?” asked Trixie.
“Not much harder than that wooden horse on the merry-go-round,” teased
Paul.
“Even if you should fall off you can swim, you know,” added Billy.
“I’ll let Elizabeth try it first,” generously allowed Trixie.
Elizabeth was a splendid swimmer and nothing on or in water could daunt
her, so Billy was soon towing her along after his launch.
“Gee! That’s pretty good, Lizzie--for a girl, I mean!” conceded Billy,
as he admired the way she stood upright and managed the plane.
“You needn’t have added that last--‘for a girl’; just remember please,
that I learned to swim at a much younger age than you ever did!”
retorted Elizabeth, ruffled at the hated nick-name.
Then, when every one had tried the aqua-plane Aunt Flo-Flo had
something to say. “Won’t you boys come over to Rosemary and hold a
Council for some friends of mine?”
What with rifle shooting, aqua-planing, and other intense delights, the
boys were not as enthusiastic as usual.
“We’re going to have piles of ice-cream and delicious cakes--to say
nothing of other good things,” hinted Elizabeth, her superior knowledge
of boys standing her in good stead.
“We-ll--seeing that you all want a Council so much, maybe we can
manage,” said Billy, looking at the other boys.
“All right--when?” hastily accepted Aunt Flo-Flo.
“I s’pose Mose will freeze some cream for us as usual on Sunday and
Thursday so we’d better say Tuesday, as that gives us ice-cream on an
off day,” interjected Paul, before any one could decide.
“All right! Then we can go marketing to Belfast on Monday, and spend
Tuesday at Rosemary,” said Fred.
The Tuesday for the Council was a lovely day and Paul took a snap-shot
of Aunt Flo-Flo and her visitors. The Nature _coups_ were claimed by
Elizabeth and the three younger boys. Then Trixie formally presented
a red scalp to the Black Bears and Elizabeth followed suit. Paul and
Dudley also paid their forfeited locks so that Fred and Bill had a
number of brilliant trophies hanging from their belts.
Finally, the much-longed-for ice-cream was brought and the pyramids
piled up on the boys’ plates received sincere applause and attention.
Among the cakes passed around were certain cookies that the boys
preferred to any others. So good were they, that Billy remarked, “My!
But these are the best ever!”
“Who do you think baked them?” asked Trixie, eagerly.
“Not you, anyway!” laughed he.
“Well, Smarty, _we_ did! Elizabeth and I made the batter and Edith cut
them out and put them in the pans.”
“Hoh! That’s nothing! _We_ cook whole meals at our camp!” exclaimed
Paul.
“Yes siree! Say, boys, how about that breakfast yesterday, eh?” boasted
Dudley.
“Umph! You ought to have tasted _that_! Billy went over to Islesboro in
his launch and shot five red squirrels. We skinned and broiled them for
breakfast and maybe they weren’t good!” said Fred, abetting the younger
boys.
“What else did you have?” queried Elizabeth.
“Fred baked some pancakes and we ate, and ate, and ate!” asserted Paul,
looking at his companions.
“I never saw any one eat so much as they did, except at our
clam-bakes,” said Fred.
“Well, maybe you _baked_ the pan-cakes but Mose was there to advise
and start that breakfast going!” asserted Trixie.
“Who told you so?” cried a number of voices.
“We just went over to get something Elizabeth wanted from the Island
and you were all gone to Adamses for milk. Mose told us about the
squirrels and the funny mistakes you boys made while experimenting on
them. And he told us of the towers of pancakes you boys made way with,
too.”
“Do you know, we haven’t had our annual clam-bake yet?” hastily
declared Billy.
“That’s so! As soon as mother comes home we must try and get it
started,” added Fred.
“Oh, Trix, we have the most wonderful time at these bakes!” exclaimed
Billy, rolling his eyes and patting his stomach.
So, in talking and planning for the clam-bake, the thin ice of
camp-cooking was forgotten and the character of the boys for being
first-class chefs was not completely ruined.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE PIRATES OF SCILLY LEDGE
“Say, Fred, did you see the Boston steamer go past this morning?” asked
Billy, wonderingly, one day.
“Come to think of it, I didn’t!”
“Neither did I,” said Dudley.
“Nor I,” added Paul.
“It gets to be such a habit when the boats go past--up in the morning
and down at night--that their absence is quite noticeable,” said Fred.
But the boys forgot about the failure of the big white steamer to put
in her appearance as usual. That afternoon, they were out with the
Captain when a fisherman from Saturday Cove hailed them.
“Hey! Cap’n! Th’ Ol’ Katahdin’s gone ashore on Scilly Ledge, this
mornin’!”
“You don’t tell!” cried the astonished Captain.
“That’s why we didn’t see her go by!” said Billy.
“Can they get her off?” Fred shouted after the informer.
“Nah--they tells me she’s a total wrack!”
The boys looked at each other while the same desire sprang up in each
heart--to visit that wreck!
“Can’t we go down and see her, Captain?” asked Billy.
“Well, it’s purty far out to sea--off Monhegan; and, besides, the
ground swell’s bad there,” hesitated Captain Ed.
“Captain, if Aunt Miriam will lend us the Zeus and Benton goes along,
don’t you s’pose it will be all right!” urged Fred.
The Captain had hard work hiding his own desire to go, being stirred by
inherited beach-combing tendencies. Hence, he agreed to the exciting
plan.
Without the loss of any time, the boys sailed over to Isola Bella and
in a pleading manner broached the subject to their aunt. They must not
seem too eager or the trip too exciting or she would refuse her consent.
Rumour had travelled swiftly so that Captain Benton had heard and also
was stirred by the spirits of his ancestors to visit that wreck! Hence,
he thought it was perfectly safe and a most delightful excursion for
the boys to take!
Early the next morning, therefore, the launch set out for old Scilly
Ledge. Down past Camden, around Owl’s Head, through the narrow Mussel
Ridges Channel, past White Head and out to open sea, steered the
Captain of the Zeus!
Well for the boys that the big launch was the seaworthy craft that she
was. Before they caught sight of the doomed steamer the ground swell
had gotten in its deadly work. Three seasick lads lay limply on the
cushions feeling that the Zeus was going down never to climb again, as
she dropped into the hollows between the swells.
Soon, however, as she rose on the crest of each great wave, the
stirring sight of hundreds of craft converging with the Zeus to a
common centre, revived the drooping spirits of the boys and the “green”
sensations gradually disappeared.
“She must be abandoned, all right!” remarked Captain Ed.
“’Tain’t curiosity what brings all them craft here,” hinted Captain
Benton.
The boys pricked up their ears. What did the Captains mean?
“I always knew them Metinicus an’ Isle of Holt fellers were pirates at
heart!” sneered Captain Ed.
“Well, you see, it ain’t stealin’--not exactly, you know!” argued
Benton.
“Oh sure not! Flotsam and jetsam’s anybuddy’s pickin’s, and she’s all
ensured anyhow,” conceded Captain Ed.