A Surprise Party
THE following afternoon, all the castaways except Billy, who, however,
was sitting up in bed, crouched in a row on the bank to watch two
slowly approaching objects.
"Surely we never asked for _two_ boat-loads of food," remarked puzzled
Bettie.
"Or medicine," added Mrs. Crane.
"Or books," said Jean.
"Or clothes," supplemented Henrietta.
"Perhaps," suggested Mr. Black, "the other boat isn't coming here."
"But it _is_," asserted far-sighted Marjory. "It's headed right this
way. And the bigger one is Captain Berry's launch, I _know_."
Twenty minutes later the boat that was _not_ Captain Berry's dropped
anchor in the little bay.
"It's people!" Marjory exclaimed, as the smaller launch swung about.
"It looks like a picnic."
"Dear me," said alarmed Mrs. Crane, "I hope they've brought their own
lunch--_we_ couldn't give them much. And I feel like hiding in the
woods--we're terribly in need of starch and flatirons."
"They're _waving_," cried Bettie. "I do believe they're visitors for
us. Oh, I guess they want a boat."
Mr. Black, who had hastened to the launch with one of the small boats,
was first to recognize the passengers. Jean, who followed with the
second boat (by this time all the girls had learned to row in the
shallow, usually calm little bay), was second.
"Mercy!" exclaimed astonished Jean, almost catching a crab, "it's most
of our parents and Aunty Jane--I do hope they're not going to take us
home!"
Presently the visitors were safely landed. Doctor and Mrs. Bennett,
Doctor and Mrs. Tucker, Mrs. Mapes, Henrietta's grandmother, Mrs.
Slater, and Marjory's Aunty Jane.
"Where's that dreadful boy?" demanded Aunty Jane, the moment she was
on shore. "Are you sure he hasn't something catching? I haven't known
a moment's peace since I knew that you'd sent for the doctor; for
Marjory's never had _anything_. Are you sure it isn't smallpox? Those
lumber camps up the lake----"
"Dear me," said Mrs. Crane, "didn't we write that the boy was more than
half drowned? I'm _sure_ I said so."
"It was that Indian--that unspeakably filthy Indian," returned Aunty
Jane. "He said the boy had a fever. I went to the jail--to the _jail_,
Mrs. Crane--to talk to that--that beast."
"Who--Dave?"
"I suppose so. From what little I could understand, I gathered that
that boy had some malignant illness--typhoid, diphtheria, scarlet
fever, smallpox----"
"Mr. Black," interposed Doctor Bennett, "I did all I could to keep
these women home, but they _would_ come."
"I don't blame them," beamed Mr. Black, hospitably. "They wanted to see
their girls. We're glad to see you all."
Aunty Jane, the neatest housekeeper in Lakeville, cast disapproving
glances in every direction as Mr. Black led the way to the campground.
Everybody else was busy exclaiming over Bettie.
"Are you sure you _are_ Bettie?" demanded Mrs. Tucker, with delighted
eyes. "Why, you're _fat_--Doctor Bennett, she hasn't been fat since she
was three years old. And brown! And look at the red in her cheeks! And
her lips!"
"I've certainly lost my patient," laughed Doctor Bennett. "But Mabel
seems to be all here."
"Just look at my long Jean's brown arms," cried pleased Mrs. Mapes,
vainly endeavoring to span the rounded forearm. "Bigger than mine!"
"That's muscle," laughed Jean. "Rowing and climbing trees are great for
your muscle--but hard on your clothes."
"Ugh!" shuddered Aunty Jane, sniffing disgustedly. "How horrible
everything smells! Bacon, onions, fish--just like that filthy Indian!"
"All camps smell camp-y," explained Doctor Bennett. "_You'll_ smell
camp-y after a day in the woods. But where's that boy? Until I've seen
him, these anxious mothers won't be satisfied that he hasn't something
contagious."
Mrs. Mapes, Doctor and Mrs. Tucker, and the Bennetts were delighted
with Pete's Patch and went quite wild over the scenery; but it was
clear to everybody that Henrietta's decidedly aristocratic little
grandmother and Marjory's overwhelmingly neat Aunty Jane had never been
intended by nature for camp life. Mrs. Slater, to be sure, enjoyed
the fine sky, the wonderful expanse of blue water, the beautiful
golden-brown river, and the deep, cool forest. She liked all these in
a quiet, understanding way; but one could see, although the tactful
gentlewoman was most polite about it all, that the lowly balsam beds,
the rough benches, the careless attire of the castaways had proved
rather shocking to a lady accustomed always to luxurious ways of
living. As for Aunty Jane, she liked nothing and did not hesitate to
denounce camp life and all pertaining to it, Terrible Tim included.
"Marjory!" she had exclaimed, at first sight of her usually spotless
niece, "your dress is a perfect sight! Go this instant and put on a
clean one."
"Why!" returned surprised Marjory, "this is my clean one--I washed it
yesterday."
"_Washed_ it!" gasped Aunty Jane. "Well, you couldn't have used much
water."
"Only the whole lake," returned Marjory, meekly. "But we haven't any
flatirons, so we just pull things somewhere near the right shape and
dry them on the bushes. It's lovely fun to wash--we go right in with
our clothes."
"Do you _cook_ in those filthy pans?" next demanded Aunty Jane,
inspecting the fruit of the large pine that served, as Mr. Black punned
merrily, as a "pan-tree."
"They're clean _inside_," defended Jean. "That's smoke from the camp
fire."
"I wash the _outside_ of my saucepans," sniffed Aunty Jane, with
blighting emphasis. "Also my frying-pans."
"It isn't considered proper in camp," returned Mr. Black, whose eyes
were twinkling wickedly; "but if you'd like a little missionary work,
Miss Jane, there's the dishcloth."
"Dishcloth!" gasped Aunty Jane, disdainfully, eying the fairly clean
rag drying in the sun. "I wouldn't scrub my coal bin with a cloth the
color of that."
"I wouldn't scrub mine with _anything_," laughed Mrs. Bennett; "but
never mind, Aunty Jane, our girls seem to be thriving in spite of torn
dresses and unscoured pans. This life is doing them a world of good."
"Good!" sniffed Aunty Jane. "Why! The place must be fairly swarming
with germs. I shouldn't _think_ of permitting Marjory to remain here--I
shall take her home with me to-night."
This was lightning from a clear sky. For a moment nobody said a word.
Then there was a chorus of protests.
"No, no!" shrieked Bettie, hurling herself upon Aunty Jane. "She can't
go."
"Oh, _please_, Aunty Jane," cried Jean. "We can't spare her--she's our
telescope and our ears."
"Oh, _no_," stormed Mabel, "we _must_ keep her. _She_ likes it
here--and look at her face--all brown----"
"With dirt," snapped Auntie Jane. "It'll take me a month to get that
child clean--and a year to scour off those disgusting freckles."
Marjory groaned. The prospect was certainly dismal.
"Never mind," counseled impish Henrietta, whispering in Marjory's ear.
"You can run away--I'll help you. You can easily hide in the bushes so
she can't find you when the time comes--there's forty good places to
hide in--let's find one now."
"No," moaned Marjory, "I _can't_ do that--I wouldn't dare to. And it
won't do a mite of good to tease. If she says a thing she sticks to
it--it's all over for poor me."
When things went wrong, Bettie cried easily, Henrietta wept copiously,
and Mabel wailed uproariously; but Marjory, restrained little soul
that she was, was seldom known to shed tears. But now several large
specimens began to roll down Marjory's cheeks, and presently, to Mr.
Black's dismay, the little girl was sobbing bitterly, with her head
against Jean's flat but motherly bosom.
Both Mr. Black and Mrs. Crane pleaded with Aunty Jane. All the parents
reasoned with her. Even Mrs. Slater, who was no camper herself,
implored Miss Higgins to change her mind. But that was a thing that
the poor lady never _could_ do. Some people _can't_ change their
minds--Aunty Jane couldn't. Even when she wanted to she couldn't.
"Perhaps she'll be more amiable after dinner," suggested gentle Doctor
Tucker, whose mild eyes were shining at the prospect of catching a
trout with the hook that Mr. Black was baiting for him. "Many persons
are."
But the splendid noon dinner that hungry Aunty Jane had expected
to devour was still nearly a mile from shore in Captain Berry's
launch, and the other launch-man couldn't go after it; because,
having incautiously ventured too near shore, he was now engaged in
half-hearted attempts to dislodge his stranded craft from a troublesome
sand bar. He declined all offers of assistance, saying that Captain
Berry, whose engine would surely work _sometime_, could easily tow
him into deeper water--_he_ wasn't goin' to work hisself to death for
nobody, no, not he.
As nobody wanted to row a mile or more and then back again with a load
of heavy baskets, nobody did; so Mrs. Crane did the best she could with
what she had; but the camp-cooked dinner did not appeal to Aunty Jane,
who refused to eat venison that Dave had touched and had no appetite
for plain beans, boiled potatoes, and cindery johnny-cake. Altogether,
poor Aunty Jane, who was never _very_ pleasant, was in her unhappiest
mood.
"You see," apologized Mrs. Crane, "our provisions are pretty low; we
haven't a very large supply of cups and plates, and of course you
haven't been here long enough to acquire an appetite for camp fare. Let
me give you a piece of this trout, Miss Higgins."
"No, thank you," was Aunty Jane's frigid reply. "I never eat fish."
"These beans," assured Mrs. Slater, politely, "are very nice indeed."
"And I'm sure," said Doctor Bennett, "this is excellent coffee, even if
I _do_ have to drink from a cocoa can."
But Aunty Jane scorned them both.
"Tell us," urged Mr. Black, "about that boy of ours. What do you think
of him?"
"Why," replied the merry doctor, "the lad's all right, considering
what he's been through. But, judging from his extreme thinness, being
shipwrecked is only a small part of his unhappy experience."
"What _do_ you mean?" demanded Mrs. Mapes, uneasily.
"No, my dear woman--_all_ my dear women," Doctor Bennett hastened to
add, "he hasn't had smallpox. But I _do_ know that he was a sick boy
_before_ he was shipwrecked, because his body shows that he has lost
more flesh than a boy _could_ lose in so short a time."
"Yes," corroborated Mrs. Crane, "he was _very_ thin when we found him."
"Tuberculosis!" breathed Aunty Jane.
"Nothing of the kind," declared the doctor.
"But he was dreadfully thin," asserted Mabel. "His legs----"
"Never mind his legs," said Doctor Bennett. "It's his head that
troubles us now. His body is mending with every moment; but there's
something seriously wrong with his memory----"
"A dangerous lunatic!" gasped excitable Aunty Jane, half rising from
her seat.
"No, no!" shouted the exasperated doctor, who didn't like Aunty
Jane. "Nothing of the sort. Merely a very pitiable boy who has been
extremely ill, probably with pneumonia. A boy who is naturally very
bright, in all ways but the one. A boy with an excellent constitution
or this last experience would have finished him. The best thing we can
possibly do for him is to keep him right here, build up his strength
in this splendid air, and then, when he's entirely well, take him to a
specialist--I'm wiser about bodies than brains."
"Could I make him a pudding?" demanded Mabel, unexpectedly.
"No," roared the doctor. "We want him to get _well_."
"As for me," said Henrietta, "I shan't be able to sleep nights until I
know that boy's real name."
"Take my word for it," warned Aunty Jane, "he isn't worth saving. He'll
prove either a thief or a tramp; or perhaps both. I wouldn't _think_ of
taking in a stranger like that."
Mabel was about to retort indignantly, and, it is to be feared,
impolitely; for this candid child was sometimes too candid; when
Henrietta whispered in her ear:
"Wouldn't it be terrible if he proved to be just like Aunty Jane!"
This thought was so appalling, in spite of its impossibility, that for
ten seconds Mabel sat in silence, with her eyes fairly bulging.
"Henrietta," she breathed finally, "weren't--weren't you just fooling?"
"Listen!" warned Henrietta.
"I'd rather be deceived fifty times," Mrs. Crane was saying, "than let
even a tramp go hungry; but that's an honest lad or I never saw one.
It's quite possible that he's poor, but that's no crime."