CASTAWAYS
The next day was the last day of examinations. It marked the end of all
their four high school years. Carol did her best in history class and
she had the secret conviction when the bell dismissed them that she had
done pretty well. Of course she wouldn’t know until their papers were
marked, but she was sure she had passed. The other girls, too, were
pretty confident now of having no more difficulties with high school
studies.
“If you hadn’t been so patient I wouldn’t have passed,” Gale declared to
Miss Relso that afternoon when she was the last one to leave the English
class.
“I’m glad you passed, Gale,” the teacher said, “and I want to wish you
lots of success in college.”
“I’ll probably need a lot of good wishes,” Gale confessed. “I know
college will be more difficult than high school has been.”
“If you do your work as you have done here you won’t have any trouble,”
Miss Relso assured her. “To what college are you going, Gale?”
“Briarhurst,” Gale said.
“Indeed!” Miss Relso murmured in a pleased tone; she had graduated from
there.
Gale greeted this news eagerly. “Then perhaps you can help me,” she
said. “The girls and I want to make arrangements for our rooms, but we
don’t know the dormitories or anything. Or will all that be taken care
of for us? Will the registrar assign our dormitories?”
“It would be nice if you could get into the Omega Chi Sorority house,”
the teacher mused.
“Is that your sorority?” Gale asked, indicating the pin the teacher
wore.
It seemed at that Gale struck a responsive note for the teacher launched
into vivid details of her days at the Sorority house. Right then and
there Gale decided she would rather stay at the Sorority building than
anywhere else. The teacher’s description of the rooms, the friendship
that sprang up between the girls, all delighted her. Gale made up her
mind to write to the Omega Chi Sorority that very night. Unknown to her
the teacher at the same moment decided to write in the girls’ behalf.
The sun was setting but it would not be dark for a long while yet, when
Gale ran lightly down the wide stone steps of the high school building.
Boys and girls lounged on the corner, strolled slowly homeward, or made
their way to the tennis courts in back of the building. Gale answered
their hails with smiles and a wave of her hand but she did not linger.
She suspected and earnestly hoped that there would be a fat letter from
Brent awaiting her when she reached home. She was not disappointed.
There was a letter whose thickness delighted her and also some snapshots
taken by Stubby of Brent in his flying togs and near his pet plane.
Gale propped the pictures upright upon her dressing table and curled up
on the window seat to read the closely written pages of his letter. She
read it through twice before she finally restored it to the waiting
envelope.
She knew the other girls were waiting at the Kopper Kettle for her, but
she couldn’t bring herself to bestir herself from her dreams. She could
look out and down on the lawn and street beyond. The trees had once more
assumed their gay lovely summer colors. The scent of flowers was heavy.
Gale’s eyes were dreamy and there was a half smile on her face. If
someone had spoken to her then she wouldn’t have heard. She was miles
away, alternately dreaming of a tall young man who spent much of his
time in the sky, and the college days that were to come. She wondered if
she would like the girls at Briarhurst. She wondered if she would fare
well in her studies. She wondered if, with the enlargements of their
interests and new friends, the Adventure Girls would ultimately be
broken up.
The jangle of the telephone sent her scampering downstairs to answer.
“Say, aren’t you ever coming?” Carol’s impatient voice demanded.
“Right away!” Gale declared and true to her word snatched up her tennis
racquet and departed forthwith.
After their impromptu meeting at the Kopper Kettle the girls were to
play tennis until dinner time. They all had their tennis racquets, that
is all but Phyllis. When she appeared, even after Gale, the others noted
the lack of the important equipment if she was to play with them.
“You can’t play!” Janet cried in disappointment.
“No,” Phyllis said briefly, seating herself beside Valerie, “I can’t
play and what is more—I won’t be going to college with you.”
“What’s that?” Carol demanded. “Do you mean to say that after all
this——”
“What I mean to say is that since you are going to Stonecliff my Aunt
has decided to send me to Briarhurst. Whichever one you go to I shall
probably go to the other. Now when I want to go to Stonecliff——”
“You can just keep on wanting,” Madge said delightedly, “because we
aren’t going there.”
Phyllis looked at the smiling faces about her in bewilderment. “But you
all said——”
“What we said was said for your Aunt’s especial benefit,” Carol
explained. “Remember I said we would have to use strategy in bringing
your Aunt around to our way of thinking? She still doesn’t think as we
do, but nevertheless we accomplished what we set out to do.”
“I don’t understand,” Phyllis murmured. “First you were going to
Briarhurst, now you aren’t——”
“You see,” Carol went on obligingly, “last night when we were at your
house Janet and I saw, in the mirror, your Aunt standing behind us in
the doorway. She thought we hadn’t seen her and that is exactly what we
wanted her to think. We put our plan into action then. We said what we
did because we knew your Aunt was listening.”
Janet made a wry face. “We also knew how she felt about us going with
you. She didn’t want to send you to the college we were going to.”
“So you said you were going to Stonecliff to make her change her mind
about me,” Phyllis said happily. “Well, it worked. I’m off for
Briarhurst the first week in September.”
“Miss Relso was telling me about the Omega Chi Sorority house at
Briarhurst,” Gale put in, “and from what she says it will be wonderful
if we could get into the sorority and live there. I’m going to write
them tonight.”
“The Omega what?” Carol asked again. “Would it be safe to sleep in a
house with that name?”
“The house isn’t called that,” Gale laughed. “That is the Greek name of
the sorority.”
“Carol wouldn’t appreciate that,” Janet put in. “Well, are we going to
play tennis or aren’t we?”
“We are!” declared Valerie and Madge in the same breath.
However, Gale at the last minute decided she didn’t want to play tennis.
She walked up the hill to Phyllis’ home with her and there they talked
for a while until Phyllis had to go in. Then Gale went slowly down to
her home again.
She was seated on the porch, lazily swinging to and fro, watching night
darken the world slowly and relentlessly when a tennis ball was thrown
at her. It was aimed perfectly and hit her squarely but without hurting.
She sat up with a jerk.
“Bruce Latimer! Come out of there!”
Bruce cautiously poked his head around the honeysuckle trellis and
grinned.
“Top of the evenin’ to ye, my fine Miss.”
“Where did you get the brogue?” she demanded laughingly.
“Came over to see if you would care for a ride in the motor boat on this
swell night.”
“I’d love it,” she declared. “Let’s go!”
“Ah, a girl of action,” Bruce laughed. “You astonish me. Take it easy,”
he pleaded as Gale, bouncing his tennis ball ahead of her, ran before
him to the street.
“Slow poke,” she teased.
If Bruce was, he belied the name then and did his best to retrieve his
ball but Gale eluded him with the agility of long practice. When they
arrived at the spot where Bruce’s boat was tied to the makeshift pier
they were both breathless and laughing.
It took but a moment before they were in the boat with the motor putting
amicably.
Bruce ran his boat to the edge of the bay, to the little inlet where the
sea and the quiet inner waters joined. The waves rocked the little boat
gently, the air was cool and the night star-studded.
“We better do something or I’ll fall asleep,” Gale declared. “It is too
peaceful here. Isn’t the moonlight glorious?”
“Mmm.” Bruce started the motor.
“Let’s go to the island,” Gale proposed. “We will officially open it for
the summer.”
The prow of the boat cut through the water like a giant knife sending a
light spray back over the two occupants. Twice Bruce circled the bay,
the thrill of speed and wind exciting them. Finally he drew up to the
island and they went ashore.
Quite a while passed as they strolled along the beach. They sat for a
time on a box that had been washed up on the shore by the waves and
watched clouds slowly darken the moon. Wind whispered with increasing
volume in the tops of the trees, occasionally an owl hooted from his
post in the darkness.
Gale sighed audibly and thought of Brent far away in Washington. It was
on such a night as this they had gone strolling in the garden at the
Country Club. There would never be another night as wonderful as that,
she was sure. If only Brent wasn’t so far away!
From Brent her thoughts went again to the college days that were so
close. Only a little more than two months and she would be taking the
train for Briarhurst. She had always dreamed of college some day, but it
seemed unbelievable that those days should actually be here.
“We better go back, Gale, it looks like a storm,” Bruce’s voice recalled
her to the present.
The moon was darkly hidden. Trees were swaying with the wind of a sudden
approaching storm. In the east thunder rumbled heavily; a flash of
lightning illuminated the dark waters of the bay.
“Righto!” Gale agreed immediately.
They set off swiftly, going through the thick growth of trees as a short
cut to the opposite shore where they had left the motor boat. Progress
was impeded somewhat by the brush and trees which were abundantly thick.
In the midst of the woods there was an ear-splitting clap of thunder. A
flash of flame and one of the giants of the forest tottered.
Bruce snatched Gale out of danger and they hovered trembling while the
tree crashed safely to one side of them, its branches sweeping leaves
and brush from its neighbors.
“That was close!” Bruce whistled expressively. “We’ve got to run for it,
Gale.” He took her hand in his and they ran forward. “The island is no
place to be caught in a thunderstorm—there are too many trees.”
They reached the shore just as the rain started coming down in torrents.
They ran along the beach to where the motor boat had been.
“Gone!” Gale gasped.
The placid waters of the bay were now tossing waves stirred with the
storm and current from the ocean. The motor boat had been drawn from the
shore and was now afloat far out of reach.
“What’ll we do?” Gale wanted to know. “We can’t stay here. Suppose we
use the canoe to get to shore.”
“We wouldn’t make it,” Bruce declared instantly. “The canoe would be
capsized before we were half way across.”
Behind them trees creaked as they were bent in the force of the wind.
The boy and girl were nearly swept from their feet as a sudden gust of
wind and rain drenched them.
“I won’t stay here,” Gale said. “We might as well try to make it in the
canoe as stay here and get drenched—besides being hit with a falling
tree.”
“We couldn’t take the canoe over those waters,” Bruce said again. “Tell
you what, you wait in the club house—I’ll take the canoe and try to
reach the motor boat. I won’t have to go far, we can see it adrift out
there, and it will be safer crossing in the motor boat.”
“If you go, I go,” Gale said stubbornly. “I’ll hold the canoe about
while you climb onto the motor boat.”
Bruce started to argue but it was of no avail. Gale was quite firm in
her determination to accompany him. Bruce brought the canoe down to the
water’s edge and held it steady while Gale climbed into it. The canoe
tossed about like a paper cup.
“We won’t make it,” Bruce said shaking his head. “We won’t even stay
right side up until we reach the motor boat.”
“We can try,” Gale insisted. “Get in.”
Tremulously the two trusted the small, fragile boat to the fury of the
bay waters. Waves rocked them, more than once the canoe hovered on the
verge of going over. Their paddles were as naught against the black
water. Neither spoke. Gale took an oar and between them they tried to
steer the canoe to the dark outline of the motor boat. Every time they
sent the boat forward a stroke the waves hurled them back. The struggle
lasted scarcely any time at all. Like a paper bag the canoe crumpled,
tossing them into the water.
Gale came to the surface spluttering in protest at the mouthful of water
she had swallowed. In the darkness she looked about for Bruce. He came
up to the right of her.
“Make for the shore,” he cried. “The island!”
They had completely lost sight of the motor boat and the mainland was
too far away to dream of swimming there. The waves tossed them about
like playthings. Both were excellent swimmers but their training was
lost in the swirl of the stormy waters. They were pitched ahead, dragged
down, and finally tossed up on the shore weak and breathless.
“Castaways on a desert island!” Gale grumbled as they entered the club
house. “I hope the place isn’t smashed under a tree.”
“I believe the thunder and lightning will let up in a little while,”
Bruce declared, on his knees coaxing a flame into life in the dark
fireplace.
“That feels good!” Gale shivered, holding her hands out to the blaze,
after wrapping herself in a blanket. “How are we going to get home?”
“I don’t think we will—tonight,” Bruce said, frowning. “No one knows
where we are for one thing. I’ll sleep in the canoe house on the cot
tonight and you can have the bunk in here. Pleasant dreams!” and he was
gone. He knew the struggle in the water had tired Gale and it was best
to let her rest.
Gale listened to the whine of the wind and the slashing of rain against
the frail walls of the club house and shivered. She was afraid, but she
wouldn’t call Bruce. She remembered vividly the second when the earth
had seemed torn apart when the tree was struck by lightning. Suppose one
of the tall trees about the club house should fall? She and Bruce would
be crushed by the weight of the walls and roof! Such thoughts were
horrible and she endeavored to thrust them from her.
She was beginning to feel deliciously warm and cozy. Gale curled up on
the bunk and watched the fire in the fireplace and listened to the rain.
The rain was a lulling accompaniment to the crackling of the logs and
before she knew it she was asleep.
Gale had no inkling of when the rain stopped. The next morning when she
awakened and sat up the sun was streaming in through the open door and
birds were chirping outside.
“Bruce!” Gale called, but there was no answer.
She looked into the adjoining canoe house, but it was empty. Outside she
looked about. The beach was empty as far as she could see.
“Bruce!” she called again.
“Here!”
It was his voice right enough but she could not see him.
“Where are you?”
A twig fell at her feet and she looked up. Bruce was perched in the
topmost branches of a sturdy tree. He had a vividly colored Indian
blanket in his hand.
“What on earth——” Gale began in amazement.
“Going to be a hermit,” he laughed.
“What’s the idea?”
“People on the mainland,” he answered. “They are looking at something—I
believe it is our motor boat—must be a wreck. I’ve been waving the
blanket so they can see it and come and rescue us. I want my breakfast.”
Once more Bruce waved his gayly-colored flag, so furiously he nearly
toppled from his perch.
“Do they see it?” Gale inquired anxiously.
“They won’t even look over this way,” he said.
“Keep trying,” she urged.
On the shore Carol and Janet with David and Peter were bending over the
ruins of the canoe. Farther along the shore Janet called attention to
Bruce’s motor boat lying on its side, half filled with water.
“Do you suppose——” Carol couldn’t finish her thought.
“What could have happened to them?” Janet murmured fearfully.
“If they were on the bay in the storm last night,” David said, “it is
hard to tell what might have happened.”
“Both boats wrecked—it looks bad,” Peter commented.
“Poor Gale,” Carol whispered in a low voice. “And Bruce——”
Carol and Janet had called for Gale on their way to school that morning.
Upon learning that Gale had not been home all night they were preparing
to rush out and tell the other girls when they met Peter and David with
news of the wrecked boat. They all came down to the shore to make sure
it was Bruce’s boat. Their fears were confirmed and now they were at a
loss what to do. People had been known to drown in the bay—especially
during a storm like the one of last night.
David and Peter hauled the canoe farther up the beach.
“It is the one from the club house all right,” David declared. “I wonder
how it got over here?”
“Look,” Carol murmured, “do you see something moving on the island?”
“You are seeing things,” Janet declared.
“I mean—look in that tree right opposite from us. I can just faintly
see something—looks like a flag being waved.”
“Perhaps it is Gale and Bruce,” Janet said excitedly. “Get a boat. We’ll
go over and find out.”
David departed to find a friend who could lend him a motor boat. The
fifteen minutes it took him were interminable for those waiting.
When the boat put out from the mainland Bruce half slid, half climbed
down from the tree and together he and Gale went down to the beach to
await their rescuers.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventure Girls in the Air, by Clair Blank