STUCK IN THE SAND
The tires of Mrs. Williams’ car kept spinning faster and faster in the
loose sand. They dug in deeply until the wheel was mired to its hub cap.
“Oh, dear, by trying to get out, I’m only making it worse.” Mrs.
Williams gasped. “What shall we do?”
Switching off the engine, she sprang out of the car to look at the rear
wheels.
By this time, Miss Gordon and all the Brownies except Vevi had come
running across the beach with the lunch hampers. They were very worried.
“Are we really stuck?” demanded Jane breathlessly.
“Will the tide wash the car away?” questioned Sunny.
“Let’s all push,” suggested Connie.
“We’ll have to if we are to get out,” Mrs. Williams said. She gazed
nervously at the waves. Each one was chewing away a larger and larger
bite of sand.
By noticing the rim of dried seaweed along shore, the Brownies could
tell that the ocean came exactly that far at high tide. The waves would
be certain to sweep over the floor boards of the car.
“Salt water ruins a car very easily,” declared Miss Gordon. “We must
get out somehow.”
She glanced hopefully toward the lighthouse. Connie offered to run
there and ask for help. But Miss Gordon told her it would be useless as
the lone attendant never was allowed to leave his post.
Jane found several large blocks of wood which she placed under the rear
tires. It did no good. When Mrs. Williams tried to pull forward again,
the pieces of wood were thrown aside.
“Let’s all push,” urged Rosemary. “I’m real strong.”
Miss Gordon agreed that the girls might try to shove the car out. She
warned them however, not to strain hard.
At a given signal, everyone stood ready. All the Brownies, that is
except Vevi. She was walking slowly from the lighthouse, not even aware
that anything was wrong.
“Now girls, together!”
As Miss Gordon spoke, Mrs. Williams let out the clutch of the car.
Again the rear wheels began to spin, slowly at first, then faster and
faster.
Miss Gordon applied all her strength. The Brownies pushed too, but they
were not very strong. Their feet kept slipping in the sand.
“It’s no use, no use at all,” the teacher finally gasped.
She signaled for Mrs. Williams to turn off the motor again. The
Brownies could smell rubber. By turning so rapidly in the sand, the
rear wheels had generated a great deal of heat.
“Can’t we send for a garageman to tow us out?” suggested Rosemary.
“That’s what my mother always does when our car won’t run.”
“Dear, there isn’t time,” Mrs. Williams replied. “The tide will be
washing against the car in another ten or fifteen minutes.”
Miss Gordon and Connie’s mother looked up and down the beach. Usually
any number of cars were in view. Not one was in sight when help was so
badly needed.
Connie glanced out across the tumbling water. Not far from shore she
saw a small motor boat chugging along. The operator was Raymond Curry,
the hotel lifeguard.
“Maybe he’ll help us!” she exclaimed.
Mrs. Williams and Miss Gordon had noticed the boat at the same moment.
“If we had a strong man to push, I think we might get out!” exclaimed
Mrs. Williams. “Let’s call to him.”
“He’s a lifeguard,” laughed Sunny. “He ought to help us rescue a car!”
The Brownies shouted as loudly as they could and waved. Mr. Curry heard
them, for he throttled down the engine and turned to gaze toward shore.
“Help us!” yelled Connie. “Our car’s stuck in the sand.”
“And the tide’s coming in fast!” screamed Jane. She cupped her hands to
her mouth to make the words carry.
Now the Brownies were certain that the lifeguard understood their
request. Even if he couldn’t hear, how could he fail to see that they
were in trouble?
The lifeguard didn’t even wave his hand in friendly greeting. He stared
toward shore for a minute, and then turned his head away. Speeding up
the motor again, he cruised on past.
Miss Gordon and Mrs. Williams made no comment. But they looked at each
other in a most peculiar way.
“He saw us!” Jane declared in a shrill voice. “How mean of him not to
help!”
“We’ll never get out now,” Mrs. Williams said. She was deeply
discouraged.
Each huge wave that swept in came a little closer to the car. Finally a
big one actually lapped at one of the rear tires.
“We may as well take our belongings and climb back on one of the
dunes,” Miss Gordon said. “The sea will not rise higher than the rim of
seaweed.”
“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Connie. “I see someone coming down the
beach!”
She had noticed a man with a cane, strolling along the sand toward the
lighthouse.
“Why, it’s Captain Tarwell,” she recognized him.
The old seaman came closer, gazing toward the group of Brownies.
Observing how near their car was to the foaming sea, he began to walk
faster.
“Ahoy,” he greeted the girls. “What’s wrong here? Aground, eh, and with
a strong tide running.”
The Brownies, all talking at once, tried to explain what had happened.
Captain Tarwell didn’t bother to listen for he could see for himself
what was wrong. He knew too, that he would have to work fast to beat
the tide.
“I’m not as strong as I was in the old days when I was master of the
_Gorchester_,” he remarked after inspecting the mired wheels. “But with
all hands to help, I think we can heave ’er free. Lay to!”
Rosemary, Jane and Miss Gordon got on one side of the car. Connie and
Sunny stood by the other, to help the captain. Mrs. Williams started
the engine again.
“Heave-ho!” shouted the captain. “All together now! Push, maties, push!”
The Brownies exerted all their strength. Slowly the car began to move.
One tire caught firmly in the sand and then the other.
Suddenly the car spurted forward so fast that Connie and Jane went
sprawling in the sand. It did not hurt them. They were laughing as they
scrambled to their feet.
“We’re out!” cried Connie. “Just in time too!”
Mrs. Williams swung the car in as narrow an arc as possible. Another
moment and all four wheels were on firm sand again. Best of all, the
car now was headed toward the cottage beach.
“Oh, Captain, we’re so grateful!” Miss Gordon thanked him. “I hope you
didn’t strain yourself pushing so hard.”
“Not a bit,” he chuckled, picking up his cane. “Always glad to answer
an SOS distress call.”
“Can’t we give you ride to town?” Mrs. Williams offered.
“I am a mite tuckered from my walk,” the captain admitted. “Aye, if you
have room, I’ll ride along.”
By this time the Brownies had piled into the back seat, leaving the
front for Mrs. Williams, Miss Gordon and the captain.
“Where’s Vevi?” demanded Mrs. Williams.
Everyone looked toward the lighthouse. Vevi was coming, but very
slowly. She seemed to be holding something in her arms, beneath her
brown sweater.
“Vevi!” shouted Jane. “You hurry up!”
Mrs. Williams tooted the car horn sharply three times.
Vevi began to walk faster. But despite urging by the Brownies, she
would not hurry.
“What’s she got?” Jane demanded suspiciously. “She doesn’t want us to
see it.”
Vevi, unaware of the danger the Brownies had been in, grinned from ear
to ear as she sauntered up.
“Where’ve you been so long?” Jane demanded. “And what are you hiding
under that sweater?”
Vevi answered not a word. She kept grinning and looking very wise.
Whatever she held beneath the sweater was alive, for the girls could
see the woolen cloth twitch.
“Jump into the car, Vevi!” Mrs. Williams ordered impatiently. “We’ve
lost too much time now.”
Thus urged, Vevi leaped into the back seat. But she kept tight hold of
the sweater.
“You went off because you didn’t want to give the bird report,” Jane
accused her.
“Maybe I did,” Vevi admitted. “But let me tell you a thing or two. I’ve
got something better than an old stupid report. I’ve got a real live
bird!”