JUST GIRLS.
She was rather pretty, judged by the ordinary standards. The other
girls called her "the heiress," because she so frankly confided to
them the information that her uncle--an enormously wealthy man--had no
one to inherit his millions but herself, and so had made his will in
her favor. Meantime, while he continued to live, this estimable old
gentleman gave his niece "just anything I want, girls! He just _begs_
me to spend all the money I can, and is sorry I don't spend more."
Such opulence was not observable in the appearance of the young lady,
nor did it lead her to reckless extravagances. She bought about as many
ice-cream sodas as the other girls who were shy of rich uncles, and
dressed equally as well as the majority of the young women at Tamawaca,
but no better. She had no jewel cabinet, or automobile, or pug dog or
embroidered underwear; so her chums and comrades, who only knew her
at this summer resort, were wicked enough to rally her upon her vast
wealth and slyly insinuate "they were from Missouri" by dubbing her
"the heiress."
Clara accepted the title with much content. She felt she was entitled
to the distinction and held her chin a bit higher when she passed
common folks on the street.
This afternoon, however, she was not on dress parade. Dressed in her
bathing uniform she reclined upon the sands in company with several
companions likewise attired and listened eagerly to the comments of two
young ladies who had made an important discovery.
"He came this morning, girls," said Betty Lowden, impressively, "and
he's just the cutest thing that ever came off from the boat. Such eyes,
my dears!--and such lovely fluffy hair--"
"And the air of a real gentleman, girls," broke in Mary Newton; "you
couldn't mistake him anywhere; and before we passed him he looked at me
twice!"
"No dear, once at the weather signal and once at you," corrected Betty.
"I noticed especially, for afterward he stared at me a whole minute."
"Why, you mean, disagreeable--"
"Seems to me," remarked little Susie, quietly, "that it's a bit of good
luck to have any sort of a young man drop down upon us so early in the
season. I'm told they're scarce enough at any time in Tamawaca, so I
didn't expect to meet a real Charles Augustus for a whole month yet."
"His name is James--James Ingram. Mary and I ran to look at the hotel
register, and he's the only man that arrived today."
"And you haven't met him yet, either," suggested Mary, with an
exasperating air of proprietorship.
"No?" said Susie, demurely, as she dipped her hands into the sands
and let the shining grains run through her fingers. "But," glancing
dreamily over the heads of the others, "I expect to meet him--within
the next half hour."
"Oh, Susie!"
"How absurd!"
"I'll bet you the sundaes for the crowd, Betty, that I'll be able to
introduce him to all of you in half an hour from this second."
"And you've never met him before?" suspiciously.
"Never."
"You must be crazy," said the heiress, scornfully.
"Don't turn around quickly--take your time, Mary. But just let me know
if that's James," continued the girl, in a soft voice.
They gave a jump, then, and every one of them stared ruthlessly. They
saw a tall young man come down the walk at a swinging stride, glance
hungrily at the sparkling waves, and then enter "Wilder's Bathing
Establishment," which stood near by, at the water's edge.
"It _must_ be him!" gasped the heiress.
"It _is_ him!" cried Betty, triumphantly. "Isn't he splendid?"
"Say, girls," observed Gladys McGowan, "let's take Susie's bet. It'll
be worth a round of sundaes to meet our Jim right away, without losing
precious time."
"Half an hour, Susie?"
"Half an hour at the most, girls."
"Then it's a go! How will you manage it?"
Susie still played with the sands, while the others watched her
nervously. She was a tiny thing, and not especially beautiful, but
the girls liked her because she was "good fun" and exhibited a rare
cleverness at times. All they knew of her history was that Susie was
visiting at the Carleton cottage.
"You'll help me, girls?" enquired the adventurous one.
"Of course. But what's your plan, dear?"
"Wait."
Presently a bather emerged from Wilder's Establishment, walked down to
the shore near them, gave a glance of brief interest at the group of
girls reclining upon the sands, and straightway plunged into the lake
and swam out with bold, vigorous strokes.
Every feminine eye followed him.
"Jim can swim, all right," observed Gladys, admiringly.
Susie nodded.
"I thought he could," she said. "Now, girls, in we go!"
"What! Into the water?"
"Certainly."
"And get wet?"
"It'll take a week to dry our hair again!"
Susie ignored the protests.
"Oh, we'll just putter around a bit. It won't hurt us," she said.
They arose reluctantly and one or two dipped a stockinged toe into
the cool water and cringed. But Susie waded in without a quiver, and
realizing the importance of the occasion they grew bold and slowly
followed her. The heiress waited until the very last, and hesitated
even then. But there was "Jim" in the water, and it wouldn't do to let
the other girls get an advantage over her.
So presently they had all trailed along the gently shelving bottom
until the water had reached their waists, and in the case of little
Susie, who was in the lead, it came quite up to her chin.
The young man had cleaved his way a good distance out; but now he was
returning more slowly, leaping and turning like a dolphin at play and
then floating luxuriously upon his back for awhile. As he drew nearer
to the girls Susie whispered:
"Now scream--and scream loud, mind you!"
In amazement they watched her swim out a few strokes--for the girl
could actually swim--and then saw her throw up her hands and heard her
cry out.
Wildly they shrieked a chorus. It was the real thing in the way of a
scream, and owed part of its vigor to the fact that Susie's action
seemed horribly natural.
Instantly the young man rolled off his back and elevated his head,
treading water. He saw a girl struggling madly and heard the shrill
outcry of her companions. A moment more he was dashing to the rescue.
Did Susie see him coming through one corner of her eye? She disappeared
entirely, and was under water an alarming time. When she finally
bobbed up a strong arm was folded around her waist.
"Don't struggle! Keep quiet and leave it to me," said Jim, calmly;
and the sound of his voice seemed to have a soothing effect upon the
drowning girl. She rested in his circling arm quite comfortably, and
before another minute he found a footing and then waded ashore with
_both_ arms around her, while Susie's envious friends scampered out
beside him and insisted upon helping to restore her.
Very gently the big fellow laid her on the sand and knelt anxiously
beside her. But she had been rescued at exactly the right moment, so
now she opened her eyes, smiled sweetly, and heaved a sigh.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, sir, for saving me!" she said. The voice was
pretty husky for a girl that had to be held, but Jim was young and did
not notice that.
"Don't mention it," he replied, delighted to find she was likely to
live. "You'd better get home as soon as possible, and have a good
rub-down and a glass of tonic. May I assist you?"
"If you please. I know it's foolish and--and silly; but I'm so
frightened and weak yet."
"Naturally," replied the sympathetic hero; and then the heiress, who
could stand no more foolishness, jerked Susie to her feet before
she had a chance to smile into the boy's grave eyes again. That was
wasted energy, of course, for Susie just now absolutely controlled the
situation. Her delicate form swayed so visibly that the boy seized her
arm at once, and Clara thoughtfully usurped the other arm and began to
lavish such tender devotion upon her that Gladys laughed outright--a
cold, harsh laugh that sent a shiver down the heiress' back and made
her vow to "get even" at the first opportunity.
Mischievous Susie was dying for a good laugh herself at the complete
success of her stratagem; but she mastered the impulse and, letting
Jim support her as much as he would, tottered slowly along the beach
in the direction of home. The girls surrounded her, flooding her with
eager questions of how it had happened and how she felt, and generous
praises of her brave and noble rescuer. For none except the heiress
could withhold her admiration for Susie's cleverness or was the least
bit jealous.
On the way they were all introduced, in the most natural manner, to the
man of the hour, and then the heroine enquired in a languid tone that
could not disguise her meaning: "What time is it, Clara dear?"
"Oh, less than half an hour since you attempted suicide," returned the
heiress, composedly. "Brace up, Susie dear, for I'm going to buy you a
sundae tonight."
Of course the young man didn't understand this speech. He left the girl
"whose life he had saved" at the Carleton porch, and begged permission
to call in the evening and enquire after her--a permission instantly
granted.
Then, with Betty and Mary and Gladys and the heiress all chattering
in a breath as they surrounded him, Jim returned to the bathing
establishment, where they separated. The heiress was a pretty girl, and
the boy smiled as he bade her good-bye.
As he dressed himself he could not help congratulating himself upon his
good luck in meeting this "bunch of nice girls" on the very day of his
arrival. It augured a pleasant vacation.
As for the "bunch," Gladys said on the way home:
"Isn't Susie a deep one, though?"
"She thinks she is," answered the heiress, with a toss of her shapely
head. "Do you remember, dear, how the cat's paw once pulled the
chest-nuts out of the fire for some one else?"
"Oh, yes;" answered Gladys, sniffing. "It was for a monkey, wasn't it?"
Those sweet, sweet girls!