OFF FOR THE LAKE
Although the members of the Go-Ahead Club--some of them, at least--had
expressed the wish that the time to start for Lake Honotonka was already
at hand, the remaining days of May and the busy month of June slipped
away speedily. At odd hours there was a deal to do to prepare for the
outing which the girl canoeists longed to enjoy.
Wyn received several letters from Polly Jarley, more hopeful letters
than she might have expected considering the situation in which the
boatman's daughter was placed. Evidently Polly was trying to live up to
her "rechristening."
In reply Wyn made several arrangements for the big outing which she
confided only in a general way to the club. Polly had selected a
beautiful spot just east of the rough water behind Gannet Island, and
not half a mile from her father's boathouse, for the camping place of
the Go-Ahead Club, and she wrote Wyn that she had stuck up a sign
pre-empting the spot for the girls from Denton.
It was arranged with the Busters, who would go up to Lake Honotonka the
same day as the Go-Aheads, to send the stores together by bateau. Wyn
arranged to have the girls' stores housed by the Jarleys, for she did
not think that the canvas of either the sleeping or the cook-tent would
be sufficient protection if there came a heavy storm.
The boys had picked their camping place the year before. They would go
to the far end of Gannet Island, where there was a cave which promised a
fairly good storehouse for their goods and chattels. They proposed to
erect their one big tent right in front of this cavity in the rock--in
conjunction therewith, in fact. There was a backbone of rock through the
center of the island in which Professor Skillings, as a geologist, was
very much interested, and had been for a long time.
To purchase the stores cost considerable money. The girls had to do it
all out of their own pockets, and to tell the truth some of them had to
mortgage their spending allowance for the entire summer to "put up"
their pro rata sum for these supplies.
"Papa says it is going to cost me as much as though I were spending the
summer at Newport," Percy Havel said, with a sigh.
"_My_ folks have expressed some surprise," admitted Mina Everett.
"They thought we were going to camp out _al fresco_; but they can
scarcely believe now that we are not going to live upon _pate de foie
gras_ and have a French chef to get up the meals."
"My father began to say something about the cost the other night,"
giggled Frank Cameron. "But I put the stopper on poor pa very quickly. I
told him that I'd willingly give up the camping-out scheme if he'd buy a
touring car. I said:
"'Pa, I've figured the whole thing out, and we can do it easily enough.
The car, to begin with, will cost $5,000, which at six per cent, is only
$300 a year. If we charge ten per cent, off for depreciation it will
come to $500 more. A good chauffeur can be had for $125 per month, or
$1,500 per year. I have allowed $10 per week for gasoline and $5 for
repairs. The chauffeur's uniform and furs will come to about $200. Now,
let's see what it comes to. Three hundred, plus five hundred, and then
the chauffeur's salary at----'
"'Don't bother me any more, my dear,' says pa. 'I know what it comes
to.'
"'What _does_ it come to, Pa?' I asked. 'How quick you are at
figures!'
"'My dear,' he said, impressively, 'it comes to a standstill right here
and now. We will have no touring car. I'll say no more about the
Go-Ahead Club.'
"Oh, you can manage the grown-ups," concluded Frank, with a laugh, "if
you go about it right."
The bateau of stores went up the Wintinooski two days before the girls
and boys were to start; yet for fear that all might not have gone right
with the provisions, Wyn insisted that each member of the Go-Ahead. Club
pack in her canoe the usual "day's ration" that they had been taught
should always be carried for an emergency.
"It only adds to the weight," grumbled Grace. "And dear knows, the old
blankets and things that you make us paddle about, makes the going hard
enough."
"That's it--kick!" exclaimed Frank. "You'd kick if your feet were tied,
Gracie."
"Assuredly!" returned the big girl.
"Now, don't fuss at the rules of the club that have long ago been voted
upon and adopted," said Wyn, cheerfully. "We do not know what is going
to happen. Somebody might hit a snag. It would take hours to make
repairs--perhaps we would have to camp for the night somewhere on the
way. We want to be prepared for all such emergencies."
"Well, the Busters aren't loading themselves down with all this truck,"
declared Grace, with, vigor.
"That's all right. Let us be the wise ones," laughed Wynifred. "The boys
may want to borrow of us before we get to Lake Honotonka."
"Why, Wynnie!" cried Bess Lavine, "if you are expecting all sorts of
breakdowns and misfortunes, I shall be afraid to start at all."
"Guess I'll go on with Aunt Evelyn to the Forge, and send my canoe by
train," laughed Percy Havel. "Wyn's got us drowned already."
But on the morning of the departure not one of the girls prophesied
misfortune. As for the boys, they were bubbling over with fun.
Professor Skillings was going to paddle up the river with them, although
Mrs. Havel would take the afternoon train to the lake. The professor had
gone on ahead; but Dave Shepard arranged the two clubs in line and boys
and girls marched through the streets and down to the river, being
hailed by their friends and bidden good-bye by their less fortunate
mates.
Somebody started singing, and the twelve young voices were soon in the
rhythm of "This is the Life!" Dave and Tubby were ahead, their paddles
over their shoulders, each carrying his blanket-roll in approved scout
fashion. The roll made Tubby Blaisdell look twice his real size.
As the party struck across the sward toward the boathouses Dave suddenly
dropped his paraphernalia and started on a run for the river.
"Hi, there!" he shouted. "The professor is in trouble, boys!"
The Busters bounded away after him, and the girls, catching the
excitement, followed along the bank of the swiftly-flowing Wintinooski.
There was Professor Skillings in his canoe, drifting rapidly into the
middle of the current, and plainly without his paddle. Indeed, that
useful--not to say necessary--instrument, capped the pile of Professor
Skillings' impedimenta on the bank. He had evidently--in his usual
absent-minded manner--stepped into his canoe and pushed off from shore
without getting his cargo aboard.
Amid much laughter Dave and Ferd Roberts got a skiff and went after
their teacher. Professor Skillings chuckled at his own troubles.
Although he was well past the meridian of life, he had neither lost his
sense of the ridiculous nor his ability to laugh at a joke when it was
on himself.
While the boys were rescuing their friend and mentor, the Go-Ahead Club
proceeded to get out their own canoes and load them. The weight had to
be distributed in bow and stern of the light, cedar craft; but Wyn and
her mates had practised loading and launching their boats so frequently
that there was little danger of an overset now.
Grace was still growling about the food and cooking apparatus
distributed among the canoeists. Wyn said, laughing:
"That is still the bone of contention; is it, Gracie?"
"What _is_ a 'bone of contention'?" demanded Mina, innocently.
"Why, the jawbone, of course, silly!" cried Frank.
"Don't you mind about my jawbone, miss!" snapped Grace.
"Oh, don't let's fight, girls," Mina said, soothingly.
"Better a dinner of herbs with contentment than a stalled ox and trouble
on the side," misquoted Frank.
The six girls quickly shot their canoes out into the stream. At this
point the current was swift; but above Denton the river broadened into
wide pools through which the current flowed sluggishly and it would be
easier paddling.
The girls set into a steady stroke, led by their captain, and passed the
pretty town in a few minutes. Wyn could see the upper windows of her
home and noted a white cloth fluttering from one. She knew that her
mother was standing there with the field-glasses and Baby May. Perhaps
the little one was trying to see "sister" through the strong glasses.
So Wyn pulled off her cap and swung it over her head and the six canoes
immediately fell out of alignment.
"Don't do that, Wyn!" shouted Bess. "Those boys will catch up with us."
"Well, we want them to; don't we?" asked the captain of the Go-Aheads,
good-naturedly. "We're going to lunch together, and if we make the poor
boys work too hard they'll eat every crumb we've got and leave nothing
for poor little we-uns."
"So _that's_ why you made us bring all this food?" demanded Bess,
in disgust. "Can't those boys feed themselves?"
"Oh, they'll do their share," Wyn replied, laughing. "You'll see. Don't
you see how heavily laden Tubby's canoe is? I warrant he has enough
luncheon aboard for a small army."
"I can't look over my shoulder--I never can," quoth Bessie. "Paddling a
canoe takes more of my attention than riding a bicycle."
"Or a motorcycle. Those things are just awful," cried Mina Everett.
"Shucks!" exclaimed the lively Frankie. "A motorcycle is only an
ordinary bicycle driven crazy by over-indulgence in gasoline."
"How smart!" cried Bessie. "But you'd better save your breath to cool
your porridge----"
"Or, better still, to work your paddle," commented Grace, with a swift
glance behind. "Those Busters are coming up the river, hand over fist."
"With poor Tubby in the rear, of course," said Frank, glancing back.
"The tide is certainly against _him_."
"Oh, dear me!" giggled Percy, "poor Tubby was more than 'tide' last week
when he took Annabel Craven out on the river. Did you hear about it? You
know--the night before graduation."
"I believe that fat youth is sweet on Annabel," announced Bessie,
shaking her head seriously.
"What do you suppose Ann thinks of Tubby?" cried Grace.
"You know how it is," chuckled Frank. "Nobody loves a fat boy. Go on,
Percy. What happened to poor old Tubby?"
"Why, he inveigled Annabel down to the river and got her into a boat and
was going to row her around in the moonlight. You know it was just a
scrumptious night."
"M-m-m! wasn't it?" agreed Frank.
"Well," said Percy, "Tubby got in without overturning the boat and
settled to work. The current was pretty swift and he struck right out
into it and headed up stream.
"And there he tugged, and tugged, and tugged, giving all his attention
to the oars and having none to spare for Annabel. By and by, after Tubby
had tugged, and grunted, and perspired for half an hour, he said:
"'Say, I never saw anything like this current to-night--not in all my
born days! I've been pulling like a horse for half an hour and I don't
see that we've made as much as a dozen feet!'
"And then Annabel spoke up real pretty, and says she:
"'Oh, Mr. Blaisdell! I've just thought of something. The anchor fell
overboard some time ago and I forgot to tell you. Do you suppose it
could have caught on something?'"
The other girls were intensely amused at this, for they all appreciated
Annabel Craven's character as well as poor Tubby's good-natured
blundering. But while they laughed and chattered in this way the Busters
crept steadily up on them.
"I told you how it would be," said Bess, tartly, "if we didn't hurry
up."
"What's the matter with you girls?" demanded Dave Shepard. "One would
think you were sent for and couldn't come, by the way you paddle. You'll
get to the lake before noon at this rate."
"Not much danger of that, Davie," returned Wyn. "And you know we agreed
to stop at Ware's Island for lunch."
"Oh, I wish that was right here!" grunted a voice from the rear, where
Tubby Blaisdell was paddling away with almost as much splashing as a
small side-wheel steamer.
"My goodness, boy!" cried Ferd Roberts. "You're not hungry so soon, are
you?"
"Soon?" repeated Tubby, with disgust "It's so long since breakfast that
I've forgotten what I had to eat."
"What do you want to eat, Tubby?" asked Frank, giggling.
"Not particular. Anything--from a marshmallow cake to a tough steak,"
grunted the fat boy.
"Tubby wouldn't be as particular as the grouchy gentleman who went into
the restaurant out West and ordered a steak," chuckled Dave. "After the
waiter brought it the customer tried his knife on it and then called the
waiter back.
"'Say!' he objected. 'This steak isn't tender enough.'
"'Not tender enough, stranger?' returned the cowboy waiter. 'What d'you
expect? Want it to hug an' kiss yer?'"
When the laugh on Tubby had subsided Professor Skillings said, with a
twinkle in his eye:
"Our friend, Blaisdell, should be able to exist some time on his
accumulation of fat. He ought not to seriously suffer from hunger as
yet."
"Like a camel living on its hump--eh?" said Wyn. "How about that,
Tubby?"
"I'm no relation to a camel--I tell you that," snorted the fat boy, with
disgust.
"Then Mr. Blaisdell might imitate some insects; mightn't he, Professor
Skillings?" suggested Frank, with a sly look. "You know there are
insects that live on nothing."
"On nothing?" exclaimed the professor, quickly. "Oh, no, young lady, you
are mistaken. That is quite impossible."
"But, Professor! A moth lives on nothing; doesn't it?"
"No, indeed. How could that be?" cried the scientific gentleman, greatly
perturbed by Frank's apparent display of ignorance.
"Why, moths eat holes; don't they?" chortled Frank. "Surely 'holes' are
a pretty slim diet."
Professor Skillings led the laughter himself over this simple joke. But
he added:
"I fear I should not be able to interest you in science, Frances."
"Not in summer, sir--oh, never!" cried Frank. "I refuse to learn a
single, living thing until school opens again next fall."
In spite of Tubby's complaints, the canoeing party sighted Ware Island
in good season for luncheon. This was a low, wooded spot around which
the Wintinooski--split in two streams--flowed very quietly. The country
on both sides was cut up into farms, with intervening patches of woods,
dotted with ferns, and was very beautiful.
There was a little beach on one side of the island, with a green, shaded
bank above. This was a favorite picnicking spot for parties from Denton;
but our friends had the island all to themselves this day.
The girls had been as far as this island before in their canoes; but
never beyond. From this spot on the journey up the Wintinooski would be
all new to Wyn Mallory and her chums.
The canoes were hauled up out of the water and the boys skirmished for
fuel while the girls got out the luncheon. Ferd Roberts was
fire-builder, and Grace, who hated that work, watched him closely,
marveling how quickly and well he constructed the pyre and had a blaze
merrily dancing among the sticks.
"Doesn't that beat all!" cried Grace. "You must love fires as much as
Nero did."
"Nero? Let's see--he was the chap that always was cold; wasn't he?"
queried Ferd, grinning.
"Nope!" broke in Frank. "That was Zero. You _will_ get your ancient
history mixed, Ferd!"
The luncheon was quickly laid, and Tubby was not the only one who did it
justice. But Bessie Lavine continued to act disagreeably toward the
boys. She was "forever nagging," as Dave said; and sometimes there was a
spark of fire when she managed to get one or another of the boys "mad."
Professor Skillings wandered off with his bag and little geological
hammer and Tubby rolled over on his back under a shady bush and went to
sleep.
"Pig!" ejaculated Bess, in disgust. "That's all boys think of--their
stomachs."
"Oh, don't be so hateful, Bess," advised Frank. "Come on; the rest of us
are going to walk around a little to settle our luncheon, before
tackling the paddles again."
"Humph! with the boys?" snapped Bess, seeing Wyn start off with Dave by
her side. "Not me, thank you!"
"All right," chuckled Frank Cameron. "You can keep Tubby company."
But that suggestion made Bess even more angry, and she went off with her
nose in the air, and all alone. But as the crowd of young folk came
around the east end of Ware Island, they, saw Bess standing upon the
brink of a steep bank, under a small tree, where the water had washed
out a good deal of the earth in a sort of cave beneath where she stood.
"Hi, Bessie! get back from there!" shouted Dave, warningly. "That place
is likely to cave in."
"Then you certainly _would_ get a ducking," added Frank.
"Pooh! I guess I know what I'm about," said the girl. "I'm no baby."
"You're acting like one," growled Dave. "That place is dangerous."
"It's not, Mr. Smartie!" cried Bess, and she stamped her foot in anger.
And just as though that had been the signal for which it had been
waiting, several square yards of the steep bank, with the tree she was
clinging to, slumped down into the river.
The girls screamed, while the boys bounded forward toward the spot where
Bessie had disappeared.
"Oh, Dave!" cried Wyn. "Save her! save her! She can't swim very well.
She will be drowned!"