Dorothy's Travels Part 16

He had now become "plain boy." He had shed the "young gentleman" with vigor and completeness and was bent upon any sort of "lark" that would restore his usual good nature and complacency. He had observed whither disappeared the various bell-boys when off duty and meant "to stir up"

one of them if nothing better offered.

Something better did offer, in the shape of Melvin Cook; calmly munching a slice of bread and b.u.t.ter in the stable-yard and as rejoiced as Monty himself to be quit for a time of women and girls and "manners" in general.

Montmorency hadn't been attracted before to this "son of all the Cooks,"

who was so fair of face and slender of build, but now he reflected that if he obtained permission to go into camp with the "Boys," and the Judge, Melvin would, perforce, be his daily companion. As well begin now as ever then; so he accosted the bugler with the question:

"Say, can't you get up something dandy for the rest of the day? We've shed those folks till dark, I guess, and I'm dying for anything doing.

Eh?"

"I've hired a sail boat and am going out alone, except for Tommy here."

Tommy was the most juvenile of all the bell-boys, a lad of not more than ten, who tried to appear quite as old as these others and who now strutted forward announcing:

"Yes, me and him is going out in the 'Digby Chicken.' A tidy craft but we'll manage her all right, all right."

"c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!" cried Monty, patting the child's shoulder and incidentally slipping a quarter into the little fellow's open palm; for it was a habit of the richer lad to bestow frequent tips whenever he journeyed anywhere, enjoying the popularity this gave him with his "inferiors."

"A sail-boat? Can you manage a sail-boat, Melvin Cook, by yourself without a man to help you?" he demanded in sincere astonishment.

"Feel that!" answered Melvin, placing Monty's hand upon his "muscle."

"There's a bit of strength in that arm, eh, what? And you may not know that I come of a race of sailors and have almost lived upon the water all my life. Manage a sail-boat? Huh! If you choose to come along I'll show you."

Ten minutes later they were moving out in a their frail craft from the little pier across the street from the hotel; Melvin for skipper, Tommy for mate, and Montmorency for a pa.s.senger. That was the beginning. It did not dawn upon any of the trio what the ending of that sail would be.

CHAPTER X

WHAT BEFELL A "DIGBY CHICKEN"

The second bell for the last meal of the day had again rung, and again the Breckenridge party waited on the verandah for delinquents. Mrs.

Stark positively declined to enter the dining-room until she had found out what had become of Montmorency. Mrs. Hungerford as positively declined to leave Mrs. Stark, and the Judge's temper was again being sorely tried. Their twenty-mile drive and sight-seeing had sharpened appet.i.tes that already were quite sharp enough and the eminent jurist wanted his supper. To walk off his impatience, if he could, he paced up and down the long verandah at a brisk rate, which did not tend to allay that uncomfortable feeling in his "inner man."

The hotel proprietor left the dining-room, where he personally superintended the serving of his guests, and joined the Judge, advising and complaining:

"We've the usual Sat.u.r.day, week-end crowd in the house and I'd like to have your party get through in yonder soon's you can, if you please.

I'm driven half-crazy, nights like this, by the demands and exactions of these transient people. I need every man-jack of the help and somebody says that Tommy has gone off with your lads. Tommy is small but he's the best bell-boy in the house and--I'll trounce him well when he gets back for serving me such a trick. Best get your dinner now, Judge, or I'll not promise you'll be able to later. Excuse me for urging, it's in your own interest, and--There comes another load from somewhere! and I haven't a room to give them. Cots in the parlor, if they choose, nothing better?"

With that he hurried to meet the newcomers and the Judge said to Aunt Lu:

"We certainly should go in to table now. It does no good to sit here and wait. That doesn't bring the runaways any sooner and they'd ought to go without their suppers if they're so thoughtless of our comfort. Mrs.

Stark, won't you come?"

Then he observed that the lady was weeping copiously. It was now fixed in her mind that Monty was drowned. She had been told that he had gone sailing with that other dreadful bugler-boy the Judge had picked up, and, of course, this was the only explanation of his absence. She refused to be comforted and would have gone out in a boat herself to search for her son had she felt this would be of the slightest use.

Indeed, she was fast becoming hysterical, and Mrs. Hungerford shook her head negatively when her brother begged her to leave her post and come with him.

"Very well, then, sister, Miss Greatorex and the girls and I will go without you. Afterward, when the boys come, I'll try to have a special meal served for you somewhere. If I can! Come, Molly, Dolly; and I'm glad that you, Miss Greatorex, have some sense."

So they departed and finding that Mrs. Stark was attracting the attention of the other guests upon the piazza, Aunt Lucretia persuaded her to cross the street to the pavilion that stood upon the bluff above the water and that was now deserted.

"From there we can see the boat as soon as it approaches, dear Mrs.

Stark, and I feel sure you've no cause for such anxiety. Doubtless the boys have been fishing and have not realized how long. It is still bright daylight yonder and these are glorious moonlight nights. Even if they stayed out till bedtime they could see all right enough."

Mrs. Stark followed the advice to seek the pavilion; yet simply because it brought her that much nearer her lost darling. But when a tray of supper was sent out to the two ladies there she refused to touch it and her grief spoiled her companion's appet.i.te as well.

After a little time Miss Greatorex and the girls retired to their rooms, at the Judge's advice. He too had at last become infected with the anxious mother's forebodings and felt that there was no need for Molly and Dolly to be also frightened. Then he joined the watchers in the pavilion, where the other guests refrained from disturbing them, although it was a favorite resort on pleasant evenings.

Many a boat came back to the various small piers extending from the sh.o.r.e into the water, here and there, but none was the little "Digby Chicken." Her owner took his place at the end of the pier and sat down to wait. Of all his boats she was the newest and prettiest. She had sailed out into the sunlight glistening with white paint, her new sail white and unstained, and on her shining hull a decoration of herring surrounding her red-lettered name. It had been the builder's conceit to omit the name, the string of painted fish answering for it to all but "foreigners;" but as it had been built for the use of these "foreigners"

or "tourists" the printed words had finally been added.

Minutes pa.s.sed. Quarter-hours; an hour; two of them; even three. There was no longer any moonlight. The distant cliffs and headlands became invisible. One could only guess where the Gap strove to close the entrance to an outer world. The hotel verandah became more and more deserted, and one by one the lights in the upper windows shone out for a time, then disappeared. Gradually all lights vanished save those in the lobby and a faint glimmer from a corridor above.

Though wraps has been early sent out to the anxious watchers in the pavilion, now heavy steamer rugs were brought, to keep out that penetrating chill. The Judge had on his heaviest overcoat and yet shivered, himself covering his long legs with a thick blanket. He had made several efforts to induce Mrs. Stark to go indoors but all had failed.

The fog that was slowly rising when the boat-owner took his station on the little quay below had crept nearer and nearer into sh.o.r.e, and finally enveloped everything and hidden it. So dense it was that from his bench on one side the circular pavilion the Judge could barely make out the white pillars on its opposite side. A lamp had been lighted in the roof but against this Mrs. Stark had vehemently protested, because it made that wall of white mist seem closer and more impenetrable, and without it she fancied that her eye could still pierce the distance, still discover any incoming craft.

About midnight the wind rose and the fog began to thin and scatter. The boatman on the pier had long ago left it, forced off by the rising tide, and now sat floating in one of the row-boats fastened there. He had put on his oilskins and set his oars in readiness for the first sign of distress on the face of the waters; but he had about given up hope of his pretty "Digby Chicken." That a couple of touring lads, even though one had protested that he was a good sailor, that these should come safely through a night like this seemed unlikely; but now that the wind was rising and the fog lifting, he drew his boat close under the pole at the pier's end and lighted the lantern which swung there. There was now a chance that its gleam might be seen from beyond and there had been none before.

Then another time of waiting, which ended with the boatman pulling out from sh.o.r.e. The watchers above had heard nothing, had not even seen him leave, although the lantern had faintly shown him riding upon the wave, moored to the pier by a rope.

But now, rubbing her strained eyes to clear their vision Mrs. Stark broke the long silence with a cry:

"The man! He isn't there? He's gone--to meet them!"

She was as sure of this now as she had been before that her son was drowned, and Mrs. Hungerford slipped an arm about her waist in pity. She dared not think what the result would be of a fresh disappointment.

However, their long vigil was really ended. The trained ear of the boatman had caught a faint halloo from somewhere on the water and had rowed toward the sound with all his strength and speed. At intervals he had paused to answer and to listen--and the now swiftly dispersing fog enabled him also to see--and finally to utter a little malediction under his breath. It scarcely needed the gla.s.s he raised to show him the "Digby Chicken" riding quietly on the water not more than half a league off sh.o.r.e. Her sail was furled, she looked taut and trim, and he could discern a figure at her prow which raised its arms and again hallooed.

"All's well that ends well." But it might not have been so well. The full story of that night's work did not transpire at once. All that Mrs.

Stark knew was that she had her son once more within her close embrace; that he had been helped, even carried, up the narrow pier and placed dripping within her arms. She ascribed his soaked condition to the fact of the fog and not to the truth; and it was not until daylight came that he told her that. Then lying warm in his bed, with her hovering over him in a flutter of delight and reproof, he announced:

"I tell you, Mamma, the only folks that amount to anything in this world are the poor ones!"

"Very likely, love, very likely. Only don't distress yourself any more.

I can't forgive that wretched little bugling boy for taking you out in that horrible boat and nearly killing you. You're very apt to have pneumonia or something--Don't you feel pretty ill now?"

"Mamma, _you can't forgive him?_ What do you mean? Didn't anybody tell?"

"Tell what, lovey. I certainly didn't stop to ask questions. All I cared for was to get you into bed and a warm breakfast or supper or whatever it is sent up."

"Then you don't know that but for Melvin Cook I should be lying at the bottom of the Basin now, instead of in this bed?" demanded Monty, raising himself on his elbow.

The pallor that overspread his mother's face was answer enough, and he blamed himself for the question. Even without knowing the worst truth she had evidently worried herself ill. But the mischief was done and when she asked: "What do you mean?" he thought it best to tell. Moreover he was anxious that she should know of Melvin's bravery at once. So he answered:

"Well, I made a fool of myself. He had tackle and we fished along, just for nothing hardly, and I got c.o.c.ky and jiggled the boat. Then when he said I'd better not but ought to lend a hand in working her and 'learn sense,' I--Well, I don't remember exactly what happened after that; only I got up on the gunwale, or edge of the 'Chicken' and the next I knew I was in the water. It all came over me in a flash that I couldn't swim and would drown and I shut my eyes and tried to say a prayer. But I couldn't think, and then I felt something grab me. It was that Melvin.