"By no means, Mrs. Livingston," hastily interposed the visitor. "It is nothing at all, and it's just a little pride in that mad-cap daughter of mine that has led me to do what little I have. But in reference to the new plan, you will tell the girls to-day, eh?"

"No; you tell them."

"Oh, leave me out of it, please."

"I could not do that. You will take dinner with us to-day, of course, and then you may announce it to the girls. I can imagine how pleased they will be. Why, there come the girls now!" exclaimed the Chief Guardian.

"The girls?"

"Yes, yes. Jane—"

"Eh? Alone?"

"No, no. There is Miss Elting and Harriet. Yes, they are all there. What can it mean?"

"It means that they have smashed the car," groaned Mr. McCarthy. "I told you." He did not look around, but sat fumbling with his hat, his face very red. Jane stepped up before him, and with chin on her breast surveyed him from under her eyelashes, "Well?" he demanded.

"Well, we're here," answered Jane.

"What is the trouble, girls?" cried Mrs. Livingston. "Thank goodness, you are all here. Why doesn't some one speak up?"

"How much damage did you do to her, Jane?" questioned the visitor calmly, referring to the car.

"Enough."

"Tell me about it!"

"She's in the ditch about a mile up the road."

"Think we can pull her out between us?"

Jane shook her head.

"Not without the wrecking crew. She's bottom side up, two wheels off and part of her machinery on the other side of the road," was Crazy Jane's calm reply. However, before they had an opportunity to say more, Tommy Thompson came running toward them, her face flushed with excitement.

"I've found it! I've found it!" she shouted.

"Found what?" demanded the Chief Guardian.

"I've found the treathure trail. I've got it, I know I have!"



CHAPTER XVI

TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE

"She's found the buried treasure!" screamed Buster.

The girls uttered a cheer. Harriet regarded Tommy's excited face inquiringly.

"You really have found it?"

"Yeth, yeth."

"Where is the treasure?"

"I don't know. How thhould I know?"

"But you said you had found it," interposed the Chief Guardian.

"No, I thaid I had found the trail. Of courthe, I haven't found the treathure. But I've found thomething, and—"

"What did you find? Come, tell us," urged Harriet.

Controlling herself somewhat, Tommy glanced triumphantly at the expectant faces about her.

"There wath a man at thith camp latht night."

"What?" The girls asked the question at the top of their voices.

"There were two men here latht night," persisted Grace.

"Please explain what you mean, Grace," commanded the Chief Guardian. "You say there were two men here last night. How do you know?"

"I found the markth of their feet—in the thand. But that wathn't all I found. There wath a boat here, too—a boat. Now, what do you think of that?"

"Try to be more explicit, Grace," urged Miss Elting. "Tell us what you have discovered, without beating about the bush so long."

"There wathn't any buthh to beat about. It wath right on the thand. Don't you underthtand?"

Miss Elting sat down. "Tell it your own way, then. We are simply wasting time in trying to hurry you," she said.

"Yeth. Well, it wath thith way. I wath looking for the treathure trail that Harriet told uth about at breakfatht thith morning, though I don't thee how thhe thhould know anything about it. My footthepth led me—led me, you understand? No, it wath my feet, not my footthtepth, that led me—right along the thhore of the ocean. And what do you thuppose I found?"

"An oyster shell," suggested Margery.

"No, not that. I found where a boat had been drawn up on the thhore and then thhoved out again. It had been drawn up on the thand. Then there were trackth about the place, trackth of heavy bootth, and a mark in the thand where thomething heavy had been put down. It looked like a box. I gueth it wath. The men had taken the box between them and carried it up and down the thhore ath far ath I could thee. You know, the tide wathhed the marks out near down to the thea."

"What did they do with the box, dearie?" interrupted Harriet.

"That I have not yet dethided. I thhall find out about that later. Well, after a time, it theemth, they took the box up the thandy beach and into the woodth, but by that time it wath tho dark that I couldn't thee any more footprintth and couldn't tell what they did with the box."

"Marvelous," muttered Buster. "Excruciatingly marvelous!"

"Is this a fairy story?" demanded Mrs. Livingston.

"Ask Harriet," suggested Crazy Jane. "I think she knows more about it than Tommy does. Don't you, Harriet?"

"What makes you think that, Jane?" questioned Harriet mischievously.

"Ask me, darlin'."

"I have, dear."

Jane stepped over and whispered in Harriet's ear, the others regarding the proceeding with puzzled expressions on their faces. Harriet's face broke out into a ripple of smiles.

"I am caught red-handed," she said. "It seems that I am not the only light sleeper in the Meadow-Brook camp. Jane chanced to observe something that I did last night. She has known it all along. She hinted at it this morning, and I suspected that she knew more than she had told us."

"But, my dear, we are all in the dark," reminded the Chief Guardian. "Won't you be good enough to explain this mystery? Surely you can do so in a way that will make it clear to us. Two men, a box and a boat and goodness knows what else, here on this lonely part of the coast."

"I was suddenly awakened last night," began Harriet without preliminary remarks. "A boat sailed into the bay close to shore and came to anchor. Then a small boat put off. Two men were in it. They came ashore with a heavy box, started down the bar, then back to the beach after I had met and stopped them. Tommy has told you the truth about their further movements."

"Wait a moment. You stopped them, you say?" questioned Mrs. Livingston.

"Yes. I didn't want them to get near the cabin and disturb our party. According to their story they had made a mistake. They had some supplies for a friend of theirs who was on a fishing trip somewhere up the coast."

"You believed that to be the case, then?"

"No, Mrs. Livingston, I did not, because, instead of going up the beach after I had turned them back, they went the other way, eventually turning in among the trees, where they remained for some time. I did not see them again until they fell over me later—"

"What!" The guardian was more amazed than before.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that I followed them to see what they were going to do. I didn't find out, but they found me, though they were not aware of it." Harriet explained how she had lain down on the ground and how one of the two men had stumbled over her feet without discovering her presence. Exclamations of amazement greeted this part of the story.

"What became of them after that?" asked Miss Elting.

"They shoved off their rowboat, rowed out to the sailboat, which quickly weighed anchor and put out to sea. That is all I know about it. You see, Tommy was right."

Mrs. Livingston turned to Tommy.

"My dear, you did splendidly. Of all this camp of girls you were the only one who found the trail and read it aright. That is trailing for you, Mr. McCarthy. But what could the men have been doing here? I do not like the looks of it at all."

"They have gone, so we needn't worry," replied Harriet. "I forgot to say that there was a boat in here—I think it was the same one—the other night just before the storm. It is my idea that they came in on that occasion to put something ashore, but were obliged to get out to sea before the storm broke. They came back on the following night to finish what they had failed to do the first time."

Mr. McCarthy nodded. So did Mrs. Livingston.

"Remarkable girls, these Meadow-Brook Girls, Mr. McCarthy. However, there is nothing to be done. We shall not be bothered any more, in all probability. Besides, they were not here on our account, so we have no cause to worry."

"And I've got to walk back to Portsmouth," groaned Mr. McCarthy. "I told you, Mrs. Livingston."

"Perhaps we may catch some farmer who is going in that direction, and who will be willing to give you a lift," she suggested.

"No; you will have to let me sleep under a tree and hang about to-night. The men are coming down in the morning to get the car out of the pond. They might as well have two jobs as one. How did it happen, Jane?"

For the first time the party of Camp Girls who had gathered about the little group gave their attention to the Meadow-Brook Girls. The latter were now discovered to be much the worse for wear. Their hair was down over their shoulders and their clothes were soiled and torn.

"Got it hard, didn't you?" chuckled Mr. McCarthy.

"Oh, not so much," replied Jane, repressing a smile.

"You are a thight. You look ath though you had been digging for buried treathure," declared Tommy.

"How'd it happen?" rumbled Mr. McCarthy.

"It was like this, Daddy, dear. We were running along nicely and easily—just at a comfortable jog, when—"

"How fast?"

"How much time were we making, Harriet?"

"Nearly sixty miles an hour."

"Yes, I knew it wasn't very fast. Just jogging, Daddy."

The visitor grunted.

"Something went wrong with the steering gear. I don't know what it was, but the wheel had no effect on the car. You should have seen us. It was funny, wasn't it, girls, the way that car darted from one side of the road to the other, and we hanging on for dear life? You see, that was all we could do—hang on. Well, the car jumped the ditch, went up the bank on that side of the road, smashed into the iron post of a wire fence, then stood up on end and turned over backward. Did you ever see such a contrary automobile? Where did you buy it, Dad?"

"Didn't buy it. Borrowed it of a man I know up at Portsmouth. It'll cost me only a few thousand to make it right with him, but then Dad's rich; don't you care."

"I never do," chuckled Jane. "Do you?"

"No, I don't, so long as no one gets hurt. How'd you get out? What did you do when the car was stopped by the fence?"

"We just went on over, Dad. You know nothing can stop a Meadow-Brook Girl when she is once well started on a course. We landed on plowed ground on the other side of the fence."

"Mercy!" exclaimed the Chief Guardian.

"Can anything hurt you, girls?"

"I hope not," answered Harriet. "This was a little sudden, but we didn't mind it so very much, did we, Miss Elting?"

"I don't know who you mean by 'we,' but please do not include me in this particular 'we.' I am not over the shock of that plunge yet, nor do I expect to be for some hours to come. I fear the car is ruined, Mr. McCarthy. I hope you will not send another one down here for Jane, if you will pardon my saying so." This from Miss Elting.

"That's all right, Miss Elting. I am not going to send another car at present. Perhaps when you young folks are ready to go home I may send a car for you, but I may give you a driver. For the present I've got something else in my mind. I had to wait until I asked Mrs. Livingston about it before I put it through. She thinks it will be fine. She will tell you all about it at dinner to-day."

"There goes the dinner horn now," announced the guardian of the Meadow-Brook Girls. "Girls, you are not presentable. Hurry and get ready for dinner. We mustn't be late to-day, of all days."

It was really marvelous that the girls were able to work such a transformation in themselves in so short a time. In the few moments that had been left to them they had rearranged their hair, brushed the dirt of the plowed field from their clothing and washed their faces and hands. It was really a jolly dinner, too, for the good-natured guest kept them all laughing with his humorous stories and odd remarks. He was so much like his daughter Jane that they had no need to be reminded of the relationship.

"This has been a day of excitement, hasn't it?" remarked one of the guardians to Miss Elting. "Buried treasure, automobile wrecks, visitors, mysterious strangers. Gracious me! what are the Camp Girls coming to?"

"I don't know. Did Mr. McCarthy say what the surprise is that he has in store for the girls? I thought perhaps he might have said something about it during our absence on that automobile ride."

"Not that I heard. He undoubtedly told Mrs. Livingston. There, she is speaking now," added the guardian.

Mrs. Livingston had risen and rapped on the table with a knife for attention.

"Our guest and good friend, Mr. McCarthy, wishes to make an announcement," she said, then sat down.

Jane's father got up, his face very red, his forehead glistening with beads of perspiration.

"Your guest and good friend most emphatically does not wish to make an announcement," declared the visitor. "But it is up to him to do so because he wishes to please that fine woman, your Chief Guardian—is that what you call yourself, Mrs. Livingston? I get all mixed up with various names and titles. It's as bad as attending a reception of the royal family, judging from what I've heard."

Mrs. Livingston nodded, smiling good-naturedly.

"Well, girls, you know I've got to do something to furnish that mad-cap daughter of mine with a variety of means of ending her life and those of her friends. She has exhausted everything thus far. However, this is a perfectly safe proposition, this one that I have planned for you and her, and I don't think any of you can get into serious difficulty through it."

"Don't keep us in suspense, Dad! Tommy will suffocate if you don't tell us now. She has been holding her breath ever since you began speaking," cried Jane.

A ripple of laughter ran along both sides of the table, but quickly subsided when Mr. McCarthy again began speaking.

"Very good, if you must know. But—I say, Mrs. Livingston, I think we won't tell them until to-morrow. As I think it over, I guess I won't tell them after all. They'll know all about it when it gets here. That's all." Mr. McCarthy sat down, wiping his forehead and looking vastly relieved.

A chorus of "Ohs!" greeted the announcement. "Please, please tell us, oh, do," they begged, but the visitor shook his head.

"I think, Mr. McCarthy, that I had better tell them if you do not wish to. They will be too much upset otherwise," said the Chief Guardian. "Have I your permission?"

He nodded.

"As you wish. They've got me so flustered that I couldn't say another word to them."

"Very good. Listen, girls, and I will tell you," said the Chief Guardian.



CHAPTER XVII

WHEN THEIR SHIP CAME IN

There was no need to further impose silence on the Camp Girls. Eager-eyed, they leaned forward, gazing straight at the smiling woman at the head of the table.

"I wanted Mr. McCarthy to tell you. However, as he refuses, I shall do so. You are to have a boat for the rest of the summer. The boat is the gift of Mr. McCarthy to the Meadow-Brook Girls directly, and to the rest of you indirectly."

"What kind of a boat ith it?" piped Tommy.

"A sailboat," answered the visitor. "I have appointed Miss Burrell as the commodore, though she doesn't know it. I understand she did very well as the captain of the 'Red Rover' last summer. Now we'll give her a trial on salt water. You will look to her for your orders and permission to go out, and I imagine you won't have any cause to complain of her treatment of you, eh, Harriet?"

"O Mr. McCarthy! you embarrass me. But tell us about the boat," answered Harriet laughingly.

"It's just a little old sailboat, that's all—one I picked up at Portsmouth; but even though she's a tub, she is perfectly safe and you may go as far as you wish with her, always first consulting with the captain and the commodore."

"Oh, is there to be a captain? Am I to be the captain?" questioned Jane mischievously.

"My grathiouth, I hope not," exclaimed Grace.

"No. The captain owns this particular boat, and he will be wholly in charge of the actual operation of it, acting upon the orders of the commodore as to who is to go and when and where. Now it's all out and I'm glad of it. I—"

Mr. McCarthy's further words were unheard because of the cheer given by the Camp Girls, in which Mrs. Livingston and the guardians joined enthusiastically, much to the discomfiture of the guest, who half rose as though to run away. Evidently thinking better of it, he settled back in his seat and wiped his forehead.

Jane got up, and, running to her father, threw a pair of impulsive arms about his neck.

"Isn't he the darling Dad, though, girls?"

"He is," agreed the Chief Guardian.

"You won't think tho after we have all gone and drowned ourthelveth from thith—from the—what ith the name of the thhip on which we are going to thail the thalt water?"

"Her name is 'The Sister Sue,'" replied Mr. McCarthy.

"Thave me!" wailed Tommy. "The boat may be all right, but think of being drowned in a name like that! Now, if it wath 'The Queen of the Theath,' or thome thuch name ath that, I thouldn't so much mind being drowned in her, but 'The Thithter Thue'—thave uth!"

"You are not going to drown at all," laughed Miss Elting, "so don't begin to lay any plans in that direction."

"When is the boat coming here, Daddy?" questioned Jane.

"To-morrow morning early, if they have her ready in time. I told the owner to slap some new clothes on her, and make her presentable by to-morrow, sure. How do you like the idea, girls?"

"Oh, it's just too glorious for anything," cried Margery, now awakened to the possibilities of having a sailboat of their very own. Tommy regarded her quizzically, opened her mouth to speak, then closed her lips.

"What is it, dear?" questioned Miss Elting.

"It ith nothing now. Maybe I'll thay it when we get to thea, provided Buthter doeth not thay it for me."

"See here! We have forgotten all about that buried treasure," exclaimed Mr. McCarthy, at his ease once more after having escaped from the table. "Will you show me, Tommy?"

"No, thir. That ith a dark thecret."

"What, girls keep a secret?" scoffed the visitor.

"Don't you think they can?" demanded Tommy, squinting at him with one eye tightly closed.

"Never saw one that could."

"Then pleathe look at me."

"By the way, Mr. McCarthy," called Mrs. Livingston, "did you mention the name of our new captain, the one who owns and sails the boat?"

"That's so. I reckon I forgot that. He is known as Captain Bill. His real name, I believe, is Cummings."

"You are quite sure that he is all right, are you, Mr. McCarthy?"

"Has a reputation second to none among the Portsmouth skippers. I took care of that, knowing you were a lot of lone women and girls down here. I didn't see him personally. Took my friend Lawyer Roberts's word for it, and what else I could pick up about the docks," added Mr. McCarthy. "But I must be thinking about getting back."

"Surely, Daddy, you are never going to think of walking back, are you?"

"Not I. I hear an automobile coming. I'm just going to get out to the road and beg a ride. They'll be keeping along on this road for at least ten miles and I can walk the rest of the way in, if I have to. In case I do not see you again, Mrs. Livingston, here's good-bye and good luck. I hope you all have a fine time with the boat. If that skipper doesn't obey orders, day or night, get a telegram to me instantly, and I'll bounce him right off. But don't let Jane send any telegrams. She'll break me, she's so long-winded—"

"Which I inherited," finished Crazy Jane. "Come on, girls; let's go out to the highway and see Dad off. We may have to watch him start off on foot."

They met the men who were coming to pull the automobile out of the ice pond. Mr. McCarthy gave them the additional job of towing the wrecked car to the nearest garage.

Mr. McCarthy was in luck. The automobile that they had heard approaching was a big power moving-van that had been down the coast with a load of furniture for a city family who were moving into their summer home. The driver was willing to give Mr. McCarthy a lift, and a few moments later the contractor was bowling along the highway on his way to Portsmouth, thence on to his home at Meadow-Brook. The girls stood waving to him as long as the big car was in sight, he occasionally leaning out to wave back at them. They then retraced their steps to the camp, talking animatedly about the great treat in store for them—the sailboat with the homely name. They could scarcely contain themselves until the morrow, when the boat was to arrive. In the meantime everybody went over to examine the trail that Tommy Thompson had found. As she had said, it led into the woods and was there lost. Harriet showed them as nearly as possible where she had lain when the man stumbled over her, but search as they might they were unable to find a single trace of the box that had so mysteriously disappeared.

At supper that evening Mrs. Livingston advised the girls to say nothing to any one outside of their own companions regarding the strange proceeding. She explained that, by remaining silent on the subject, they might be able to learn more about it, and that perhaps some violation of the law might be at the bottom of it.

Early on the following morning all the girls were up scanning the sea for a sail. A coasting schooner in the far distance, making up the coast, was the only boat in sight. The day was brilliant with sunshine, the sea blue and sparkling. The lookouts could see a long distance. The day passed and the night passed, but still no trace of their boat. Nor had the other mysterious craft paid another visit to the bay. At least, if it had, none of the campers had been awake at the time.

It was late that afternoon when some one raised a shout and pointed up the coast. There, about five miles away, was a tiny speck of white that they knew to be a sail. There seemed to be but a single sail, which told them that a small boat was carrying it. Then, again, the sail looked so white that they decided it must either be their boat or a private yacht cruising down the coast.

"It does look more like a yacht than the 'tub' that Mr. McCarthy described," said the Chief Guardian. "If this is the 'Sister Sue' she is a very trim little craft."

The beach was lined with Camp Girls eagerly watching the approaching sailboat, which was coming on at what seemed to them to be an aggravatingly slow rate of speed.

"What he needs is an engine," declared Jane. "Now, if he had that motor that's doubled up under the car we ran into the ditch, he could make some time."

"That boat is sailing much faster than you think," answered Harriet. "You will see when it gets opposite us how fast it is moving. It is moving so fast that I can't make myself believe it is our boat."

"I gueth we'll wait till it getth here," decided Tommy, which voiced the feelings of all. As the sailboat drew down into plain view, exclamations of admiration were heard on all sides. For a single-masted boat she carried a great spread of white canvas and two jibs, each of which was full of wind, pulling powerfully. The wind being off shore, the sloop was heeling the other way, showing quite a portion of her black hull, which was in strong contrast with her glistening white sides and snowy sails. The water was spurting away from her bows, showing white along the black side below her water line—all in all, an inspiring sight to the lover of boats and the big water.

"Hurrah, see her go! She's skimming along like a scared cat. No, that isn't our tub, darlin's. I know Dad. She will be safe, but she will come limping and groaning down the line at a mile an hour, then probably go aground in the bay because there won't be room enough for her to turn about. You see if I'm not right."

"You are all wrong," answered Harriet. "How do I know? Never mind. You will find that you are." She had seen a man hauling in on the main sheets—the ropes that led from the mainsail back toward the cockpit. From that she knew the boat was preparing to change its course. This it did a few moments later, heading in toward the shore, but pointed at a spot a full half mile below the camp, as nearly as the girls could observe.

"Oh, that is too bad! See, they are going somewhere else," cried Miss Elting. "Why—why, what are they trying to do? Are those people crazy?"

"They are tacking in," answered Harriet.

"Of course. How stupid of me."

"It ith the 'Thilly Thue,'" shouted Tommy.

"The 'Silly Sue'! hurrah!" yelled the girls, instantly adopting Tommy's nickname for the boat.

"Oh, darlin's, isn't she the beauty?" cried Jane. She began dancing about, several others doing likewise.

"I thought you knew it was going to be an old tub," reminded Harriet teasingly.

"I take it all back. When I see Dad I shall get down on my knees and beg his pardon." Jane began running toward the bay, turning out to the bar as the most likely place to get a good view of their present. She was followed by the entire camp, Chief Guardian and guardians, who ran shouting and waving their hats.

As the boat swept majestically into the bay the jibs came in and the mainsail was lowered slightly, the boom being permitted to swing far out. The girls then saw that there were two men on board, one handling the sails, the other was stationed at the wheel. The craft crossed and criss-crossed the bay, sawing back and forth several times before reaching a position for which the skipper evidently had been heading. Then, all at once, he swung the bow of the boat squarely into the wind.

"Let go!" he called.

The big sail came down with a clatter and rattle of rings, and the anchor went overboard with a loud splash. The "Sister Sue" was at anchor in the bay. The skipper lighted his pipe and sat down all hunched together, puffing away with most aggravating deliberateness.

"Aren't you coming ashore so we may get aboard and see the boat?" called Harriet.

"Bymeby," was the laconic answer.

"I am the commodore. I wish—"

"The what?"

"The commodore," answered Harriet, laughing so that she barely made herself heard.

"Commodore's quarters aren't ready," called back Captain Billy. "Let you know when we're ready for you. We aren't going out again to-day."

"I shall have to talk to the captain, I fear," said Mrs. Livingston, smiling faintly.

Soon after coming to anchor the second man on the boat was observed to be busy furling the sail, which he took his time in doing. This finished, he hauled up pails of water with a pail tied to the end of a rope and started swabbing down the decks. This completed, he went about other duties, which, to the row of girls sitting on the Lonesome Bar, seemed trivial and for the sake of killing time.

"Isn't it perfectly aggravating?" grumbled Margery Brown.

The supper horn blew while they still sat there waiting. The Camp Girls reluctantly turned back toward camp. They were disappointed, and so expressed themselves with emphasis while eating their supper. But Harriet, who had been excused before the others had finished, hurried out to take an observation. She was back almost at once.

"Their rowboat is coming ashore," she cried, pointing toward the bay.

Instantly every girl in the cook tent, without the formality of asking to be excused, pushed back her chair and dashed out. Mrs. Livingston so far overlooked their breach of etiquette as to rush out with the rest of them.

"Come on, darlin's. They've come ashore for us at last. First there, first to go out. Go!"

It was a race for the landing place, with Harriet and Jane running side by side, Tommy Thompson following and gradually lessening the distance between them in a series of flying leaps. Tommy could run like a frightened fawn. Harriet heard her coming and increased her speed. Tommy gained no more on Harriet, though she arrived at their objective point by the side of Crazy Jane McCarthy.

"Ready to go out," announced the man. "But I can't take more than five at a time. Who goes first?"

Harriet halted sharply at sound of his voice, and gazed at the man perplexedly. His voice was strangely familiar, but, try as she would, she could not think where she had seen him.



CHAPTER XVIII

FIREWORKS FROM THE MASTHEAD

"Wait for Mrs. Livingston," replied Harriet in answer to the man's question. "You are not the captain, are you?"

He shook his head. Mrs. Livingston came upon the scene. Harriet assisted her into the rowboat. The Chief Guardian directed the other Meadow-Brook girls to get in, telling the girls who were left on shore that they would be taken out to the "Sister Sue" as fast as possible, until there was no more room. The others would have their turn soon afterward.

If the girls had been pleased with the "Sister Sue" from a shore view, they were enthusiastic at what they saw when they got on board. The decks were white from scouring, the binnacle that held the compass shone with mirror-like brightness, ropes were neatly coiled and everywhere was the smell of fresh paint and the faint, salty odor of the deep sea.

The "Sue" was some forty feet in length over all, broad of beam, covered over about half her length amidships by a raised deck cabin, a cabin that rises above the deck a few inches with narrow windows on the two sides. Two doors from the cockpit led into the cabin. Into this the Meadow-Brook Girls hurried, after one quick look over the trim craft. They cried out for Mrs. Livingston to join them. The interior of the cabin was in white with plush seats on each side, the seats being broad and comfortable, affording lounging space for several persons at one time. A tank holding drinking water, at the forward end of the cabin, was the only other furnishing.

The "Sue" was far from palatial, but the Camp Girls thought they had never seen a neater or prettier boat, and as for its ability to sail, they had seen something of that as the sloop came into the bay.

Mrs. Livingston had remained outside to speak with the skipper. Harriet soon joined them. Captain Billy was a type. His grizzled, red beard was so near the color of his face that it was not easy to determine where the beard left off and the face began. Billy had a habit of avoiding one's eyes when speaking. Either he would be consulting the deck of the "Sue" or gazing at the sky. He was looking up at the clouds now.

"The captain says he can safely carry ten persons without crowding, Harriet," the Chief Guardian informed her. Then turning to the captain, "This young lady has been placed in charge of the boat by Mr. McCarthy; of course, your judgment as to what is best for all concerned must prevail."

Captain Billy's whiskers bristled. He swept the Meadow-Brook Girl with a quick, measuring glance, then permitted his eyes to gaze upward again.

"I was going to suggest, Mrs. Livingston, that we first take you and the other guardians out for a sail, say to-morrow morning. I don't think the captain will wish to go out in the evening," said Harriet.

He shook his head.

"Certainly not," declared Mrs. Livingston. "And now, sir, what about your meals—the board for yourself and your man?"

"Get my own. He goes away early in the morning. Sleep on board, too. You needn't worry about me. Got any gear you want to get aboard?"

"Gear?" questioned the Chief Guardian blankly.

"Dunnage?" nodded the skipper. "Anything you want to bring aboard?" he shouted.

"No, thank you, nothing at present," answered Harriet.

"Man will fetch it off before he goes away if there is. Don't ask me to do any packing."

"Our young women are perfectly able to help themselves," replied Mrs. Livingston with dignity. "I suppose, however, that having only one rowboat you will come ashore for us whenever we wish to go out?" she added.

The captain shook his head. He was the most ungracious person they ever had known. But when Harriet said they had better get word to Mr. McCarthy at once, the captain changed his mind quickly. He said he would come for them whenever they gave him the word. He told them, further, that they would have to bring their own provisions when they went out for a sail, but that he could show them how to catch some fish if they desired to do so.

"We shall be ready to go out about ten o'clock to-morrow morning," Mrs. Livingston told him. "If there is anything you wish us to do, you might call to the young women who occupy the cabin there on the Lonesome Bar. I am very glad you are going to remain aboard your boat, for we are not equipped for putting up strangers. But if there is anything you wish in the way of supplies, do not hesitate to send word to me. We have quite a quantity. We are obliged to go beyond the highway for our drinking water, and it is a trifle brackish."

"Hadn't we better go ashore and give the others a chance to come out?" asked Harriet.

"You and I will remain here. The others may go," returned Mrs. Livingston.

Several boatloads of excited girls were put aboard the "Sister Sue." The girls were enthusiastic; they chattered and sang and made merry, Captain Billy growing more taciturn and sour as the moments passed. Finally, Mrs. Livingston said they must put off further visiting of the boat until morning; that night was now upon them. They bade good night to Captain Billy, and his man put them ashore, Mrs. Livingston leaving the sloop last.

"He is a queer character," she declared after joining Harriet on the beach later on. "What do you make of him?"

"I suppose he is like many of his calling, gruff and of few words. But there is something beyond that which I can't quite make out."

"What do you mean? Do you think that he is untrustworthy?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Livingston. I do know that I dislike him. Isn't that silly in me?" asked the girl laughingly. "I have no confidence in him."

"I think you are in error. Mr. McCarthy would not send us a man who was not trustworthy in every way. He is supposed to be a skillful skipper, and from my observation I know he will behave himself, so we don't care what he is beyond that. Shall you go back to the camp with us, or direct to the cabin?"

"To camp."

The girls sat about the campfire, singing the songs of the Camp Girls until ten o'clock that evening, after which the Meadow-Brook party bade good night to their companions and strolled down to the bar, thence out to the cabin. All were keenly alive to the pleasures that awaited them on the following day, when they were to have their first sail in the "Sister Sue."

Harriet made ready for bed with her companions, but she was not sleepy. She lay on her bough bed near the door, where she remained wide awake, thinking over the occurrences of the past few days. A sound out on the bay, as if something had dropped to the deck of the sloop, attracted her attention. The girl crawled from her bed and out to the front of the cabin on all fours. She then sat up, leaning her back against the cabin; shading her eyes, she gazed off at the boat riding easily in the bay.

The "Sue" was faintly outlined in the dim light of the night, but the night was too dark to enable the girl to make out anything in detail, nor was there a sound on board to indicate that any one was awake.

"It may be that the captain is putting his man ashore, or else has just returned from doing so. Still, this seems to me a pretty late hour to be sending any one ashore." Harriet thought she could now make out the small boat floating astern of the "Sue," where it was ordinarily kept, though she could not be certain of this. "Ah! There is something going on over there."

The faint creak of block and tackle reached her listening ears, which she strained and strained, even closing her eyes that she might concentrate wholly on the sense of hearing. The creaking continued for a couple of minutes, then ceased altogether.

"I wonder if the captain can be making sail to go out?" Harriet asked herself, opening wide her eyes and gazing toward the sloop. But the latter was riding lazily on the gentle swell as before, the girl being unable to make out anything that looked like the sail. She thought she surely would be able to see the sail, had it been hoisted.

Something was dropped on the deck, making a great clatter, then for several minutes all was silent on board the "Sister Sue." Harriet could not imagine what was going on there. After a time there were further evidences of activity on board; noises, faint, it is true, which indicated that something out of the ordinary was taking place on the boat. Harriet wondered if she had not better call Miss Elting and have her listen, too. Upon second thought, however, she decided not to do so. In the first place she could see and hear fully as much as could the guardian, besides which, were she to awaken the guardian, the other girls undoubtedly would be disturbed. They might make a noise that would prevent her learning what was being done on board the sloop.

Harriet shivered, for she was in her kimono, while the breeze blowing in from the sea was fresh and penetrating. She felt a sneeze coming. The girl made heroic efforts to repress the sneeze, then, finding she could not, stuffed an end of her kimono into her mouth and covered her nose with both hands.

It was a long, shuddering sneeze that Harriet Burrell uttered. She feared it had not only attracted the attention of the man or men on board the sloop, but awakened her companions as well. The faint noises on deck continued as before. No sound came from the cabin.

"Thank goodness, no one heard me," she muttered. "Why is it that one has to sneeze when she doesn't want to, I wonder? I—" She started at sound of a low voice close at hand speaking her name.

"Harriet, ith that you?"

"Tommy, what a start you gave me! When did you wake up? What are you doing here?" questioned Harriet in a whisper.

"That ith what I wath going to athk you. What ith it?"

"Sh-h-h! You will waken the others."

"If you didn't wake them up with that thneeze nothing but a club will wake them." Tommy crept close to her companion. "You thee thomething, don't you?"

"Not much. The night is too dark. I can see the outlines of the 'Sue' over there, but that is about all."

"Ith anything the matter with her?"

"I think not."

"Then why are you watching her tho clothely?"

"You are altogether too observant, Tommy. But don't speak so loudly, please. There is nothing of any importance over there. Please go back to bed. You will complain about having to get up for breakfast in the morning."

"Did you ever hear me complain about having to eat?"

"I can't say that I ever did," smiled Harriet. "But you will catch cold out here."

"Tho will you. You will catch cold firtht becauthe you have been out here longer than I have. Anything elthe?"

"No, except that I am not going to waste my breath giving you advice. When you become cold enough I presume you will go back to bed."

"Yeth, when I find out what ith going on out here. I won't catch cold, but maybe if I thtay out here long enough I'll catch a fithh. There! I know what you are watching. You are watching that 'Thilly Thue.'"

"Sh-h-h!"

The creaking on board had begun again. It continued at intervals for several moments, both girls listening almost breathlessly.

"Wha—at are they doing?" whispered Tommy.

"I don't know. That is what I am trying to find out."

"My grathiouth! Maybe the captain is going to run away with the 'Thilly Thue'."

"No. Come to think of it, I believe he must be getting the boat ready for our sail to-morrow."

"Not without a light. There ith thomething else going on. Oh, look!"

Following a period of silence, blue sparks began sputtering from the masthead of the "Sister Sue." The girls could hear the sparks crackle and snap spitefully.

"Oh, look at the fireworkth!" cried Tommy out loud. "The thhip ith on fire!"

Harriet laid a firm hand on her arm. "Keep still!"

A faint squealing sound was now distinguishable, while the sparking at the masthead continued with almost rhythmic regularity.

"I know! I know what it is!" gasped Harriet excitedly. "Listen, Tommy, listen. Don't you know?"



CHAPTER XIX

SAILING THE BLUE WATER

"No, I don't know what it ith. If I did, I thhouldn't be athking you," answered Grace. "It ith either lightning, fireworkth or a real fire."

"It is wireless, Tommy. Don't you know now?"

Grace shook her head.

"Didn't you ever hear a wireless machine work?"

"No; but there ithn't any wireleth on the 'Thilly Thue,' ith there?"

"I—I don't know. I mean, I did not see any when we were out there to-day. I don't understand it. What can he be doing with wireless so late at night?"

"Maybe he ith telegraphing home to find out if the folkth are all right," suggested Tommy.

Harriet did not smile. Her face was very grave, her forehead wrinkled in thought. For the greater part of an hour, with brief intervals between, the wireless on the sloop continued, the sparks at the masthead sputtering and snapping with marked regularity. Had Harriet Burrell understood a little more of telegraphy she would have known, though unable to read the dots and dashes, that the operator was calling some one who did not answer. After a long time he apparently gave it up, for the sparking at the masthead ceased suddenly, followed by a brief period of silence on board, then the creaking of block and tackle was renewed. This was followed by a subdued thumping and rattling about on deck, this lasting only a few moments. The "riding light"—a light hung from the stern of the boat—was hung out, a dim light appeared in the cabin, which after a time was extinguished, then silence settled over the sloop for the night.

"That is all for to-night, I think," said Harriet aloud, but in a low voice. "I do not know what it is all about, Tommy, but I do know that something queer is going on here. Do you think you and I will be able to solve the mystery?"

"I think tho. Don't you?"

"I do. This makes two mysteries for us to solve, one the finding of that mysterious box and the other the mystery of the wireless on the 'Sister Sue.' I would suggest that you don't say a word about it to any one to-morrow. Don't ask any questions, either—leave that to me—but keep your eyes open while you are on board. Perhaps we may discover something that we overlooked there to-day. Wireless on the 'Sister Sue'! I don't understand it at all. Be very careful that you do not wake up the others when you go in. Make sure that you don't fall over a cot and startle the girls."

"Yeth, I'll be careful."

Harriet remained outside while Grace was getting herself back to bed, but the former darted in quickly upon hearing a crash in the cabin, followed by a scream from Margery. Tommy had stumbled against Buster's bed and fallen across it and on the sleeping stout girl. But Harriet, knowing it would not do for the girls to know that two of their number had been mooning out-of-doors, darted into her own cot, and before they realized that she had just got in, was sitting up in bed demanding to know what all the disturbance was about.

"Tommy, have you been walking in your sleep?" demanded Miss Elting.

"Yeth, I've been walking, I gueth. Excuthe me, Buthter. If you hadn't been in my way I wouldn't have fallen over you. Good night, friendth." Tommy tumbled into bed, muttering to herself. Harriet did not go to sleep at once. She lay for some little time thinking over the strange occurrences of the night, and wondering what it could mean. Then, her companions having gone to sleep, she too settled down for the few hours that remained before the rising horn blew.

Her first thought, upon awakening in the morning, was for the sloop. Quickly scrambling out of bed, she stepped to the door and gazed out on the bay. The "Sister Sue" lay at her anchorage motionless, glistening in the bright rays of the morning sunlight, handsomer, Harriet thought, as she stood admiring the pretty craft, than she had appeared on the previous day.

The Camp Girls were filled with expectations of what was before them. They were to sail shortly after ten o'clock, and for many of them it was to be the first sail they had ever enjoyed. Breakfast was eaten and the camp put in order in record time that morning. Promptly at ten o'clock Captain Billy rowed the small boat ashore. He dragged down some trees which he cut, thus making a crude pier for the girls to walk out on, thus enabling him to leave the small boat in deeper water. However, he could take out no more than five passengers at a time. Mrs. Livingston told him that they did not care to sail far that morning. It was her purpose to give each of the girls in the camp a sail that day. Several trips, therefore, would be necessary.

"If that's the case, we can take a bigger load on the sloop," replied the captain. "Pile 'em in."

"Will it be perfectly safe?" questioned the Chief Guardian.

"You can't sink her. The reason I didn't want a big crowd was that I thought you would be going out a long way. We're likely to meet heavy weather several miles outside. In that case a skipper wants plenty of room to move about. Sometimes quick work is necessary, and—"

"I don't suppose that being a commodore will prevent my assisting in sailing the boat, will it?" asked Harriet smilingly.

The skipper looked her over critically.

"I reckon we can make a sailor of you. Know anything about sailing?"

"No, sir."

"Yeth, she doeth," interjected Grace. "She wath the captain of the 'Red Rover' latht year."

"And sunk it," chuckled Crazy Jane.

"If you will tell me what to do, I shall be glad to start, Captain."

"All right. Get hold of that halyard and see if you can haul the sail up," he answered, grinning mischievously. Captain Billy had not the least idea that she possessed the strength to raise the sail. But Harriet surprised him. She grasped the rope, and, though so light that the weight of the sail nearly pulled her off her feet, she hauled it slowly but steadily to the peak, then, throwing all her weight into one hand and arm, made the halyard fast to a cleat on the deck.

"Is that right, sir?" she asked, her face slightly flushed from the exertion.

"Great boomers, but you have muscle in your arms!" wondered the skipper. "Now, please hold this wheel just where it is; I'll take in the anchor. The man went back home last night. Don't need him with all these strong-arm ladies on board. We'll be under way in a few minutes now. I—Look out there!"

A sudden though slight puff of wind struck the mainsail, sending the sloop ahead directly toward the shore. But without waiting for orders Harriet sprang to the wheel, pointing the bow of the sloop, that had heeled dangerously, right toward the wind that was blowing in from the sea.

"Fine!" shouted the captain, shipping the anchor and scrambling back to the cockpit as the sloop settled down on an even keel again, the squall drumming on the ropes and stays. "You've sailed a boat before, young lady."

"Nothing more than a canoe and a house boat."

"You've got the instinct, just the same. I'll have you sailing this 'Sister Sue' before you're a week older, and sailing it as well as I could sail it myself. Where do you wish to go!" turning inquiringly to Mrs. Livingston.

"Up and down the coast, not far out."

The skipper tacked back and forth a couple of times to clear the bay, then laid his course diagonally away from the coast. The day was an ideal one, the sloop lay well over and steadily gained headway as she forged ahead with white water spurting away from her bows.

"Gul-lor-ious!" cried Margery.

"Love-a-ly!" mocked Crazy Jane.

Tommy eyed Buster quizzically.

"Yeth, but thith ithn't the real thea. You will be singing inthide inthtead of outthide when we get out on the real othean. It won't be the gul-lor-iouth then."

"All we need now to make us a real ship is a wireless machine," said Harriet, with apparent innocence.

The skipper shot a quick look at her from under his heavy red eyebrows, but Harriet's face was guileless.

"Would it not be possible to put a wireless outfit on a boat of this kind, Captain?"

"Yes, if you wanted to. But what good would it do you?"

"I don't know, except that we might talk with ships far out at sea—ships that we could not see at all. Why don't you put a wireless machine on your little ship? I think that would be fine," persisted the Meadow-Brook girl, with feigned enthusiasm. The skipper growled an unintelligible reply and devoted himself to sailing his boat. Then Tommy took up the subject, discussing wireless telegraphy with great confidence, but in an unscientific manner that would have brought groans of anguish from one familiar with the subject.

Harriet Burrell through all of this conversation had been watching the skipper without appearing to do so. That he was ill at ease she saw by the scowl that wrinkled his forehead, but otherwise there was no sign to indicate that their talk had disturbed him.

They sailed for two hours, then the sloop returned to the bay, where most of the girls were put ashore and another lot taken aboard. The Meadow-Brook Girls and Mrs. Livingston remained on board. Harriet, during the time the captain was engaged in assisting his passengers over the side, where they were rowed ashore by Jane and Hazel, looked over the "Sister Sue" with more care than she had done before. There was nothing that she could discover that looked like a wireless apparatus. However, at the forward end of the cabin she discovered a small door let into the paneling. This door was locked. She asked the captain to what it opened.

"That's the chain locker, where we stow things," he answered gruffly.

The girl then began calculating on how much space there was under the floor of the cabin. She decided that there must be at least three feet of hull under there, but the flooring was covered with carpet that extended under the lockers and seats at the side, so that she was unable to determine whether or not the floor could be readily taken up. Altogether, her discoveries did not amount to very much. She was obliged to confess as much to herself. As for Tommy, that young woman had conducted herself admirably during the sail, proving that she was discreet and fully as keen as was Harriet Burrell; and, though Tommy said very little on the subject uppermost in the minds of the two girls, the little girl was constantly on the alert.

In the joy of sailing they forgot their noon meal. Nor were they reminded of it when Captain Bill, giving Harriet the wheel, made himself a cup of black coffee over an oil stove and drank it, eating several slices of dry bread. Having finished his luncheon, he pointed to the compass, asking Harriet if she knew anything about it. She said she did not.



"If you are going to be a sailor, you must learn to read the compass," he said. "In the first place, you must learn to 'box the compass.' I'll show you."

"Are you looking for the boxth?" questioned Tommy, observing the skipper searching for something in a locker under the stern seat.

"Box? No," he grunted. "We don't use that kind of a box in boxing the compass. By boxing the compass we mean reading the points of it." He produced a long, stiff wire, with which he pointed to the compass card. "A mariner's compass is divided into thirty-two points," he informed Harriet. "In the first place, there are four cardinal points, North, East, South and West. As you will see, by looking at the compass card, it is divided into smaller points which are not named on the card. I'll draw you a card to-night with all the points named, then you can learn them. Until you do, you are not a sailor. For instance, to read the compass, we begin with North and go on until we have completed the circle of the card, naming each point and sub-division as we go along. Then you should learn to read it backward as well. After you have learned to do that I will show you how to lay a course by a chart."

"I don't thee anything to read," said Tommy, squinting down at the card.

"You are not taking the lesson, darlin'," Jane reminded her.

"This is the way to begin," Captain Billy told them. "First is North. Then you say north one-quarter, one-half, three-quarters, then the next sub-division is North by East with the same fractions of degrees. We go on as you will see by following the card, as follows, North Northeast; Northeast by North; Northeast; Northeast by East; East Northeast; East by North; East. You proceed in exactly the same manner with the other cardinal points, East, South and West, and that is what is called 'boxing the compass.' Do you think you understand, Miss Burrell?"

"I have at least a start," replied Harriet smilingly.

"I haven't," declared Tommy with emphasis. "I couldn't thpeak at all if I repeated that awful thtuff."

In the meantime Harriet was gazing steadily at the card, fixing the points in mind, really photographing the points of the compass and their sub-divisions on her memory, the skipper observing her with a dry smile. He thought he had given the young sailor a problem that would keep her busy for some days to come. What was his surprise, therefore, when just after they had come to anchor, Harriet asked him to hear her lesson. She began boxing the compass and only once did she pause until she had gone all the way around the card.

"How near right was I, Captain?" she asked.

"Right as a plumb line. Girl, you're a wonder. Took me four months to learn to read the card; then I didn't have it down as fine as you have. Will you forget it before to-morrow morning?"

"Oh, dear me, no," she laughed. "I hope I shall not," added the girl, sobering a little. "I shall write the points down as soon as possible after I get back to camp."

"If you have it down fine in the morning, I'll take you for a long sail to-morrow," promised the captain, as he assisted the girls over the side into the waiting small boat.

The Wau-Wau girls voted it the most delightful day they ever had spent. When they had reached camp, however, Harriet heard something that caused her to think even more seriously of what already had happened at Camp Wau-Wau. Before the night was over she was to witness that which would add still further to her perplexity.



CHAPTER XX

OUT OF SIGHT OF LAND

"The man wished to know to whom the boat out in the bay belonged," Miss Elting was saying to the Chief Guardian. "He did not give his name, but asked many questions—who the captain is, where we got him and how, and all about it. The questioner was very mysterious. What do you suppose he could have been trying to find out?"

"Perhaps he was a police officer looking for a stolen boat. I understand a great many boats are stolen along this coast. But we do not have to worry in the present instance. Miss McCarthy's father would not have given us a man who was not right in every way."

"Oh, no," answered Miss Elting. "He seemed perfectly satisfied with what I told him, but he did spend quite a time strolling up and down the beach, out beyond the bar."

Harriet had overheard the conversation between Miss Elting and Mrs. Livingston. She smiled at the thought of the light she might possibly shed on the inquiry made by the visitor that afternoon.

The girls were sleepy that night and retired early, all save Harriet Burrell and Tommy, who asked permission to sit out on the bar in front of the cabin, which permission Miss Elting readily granted. But Tommy soon grew weary and stumbled into the cabin, where she floundered about sleepily until she had awakened everyone of her companions.

Soon after the camp had settled down Harriet was conscious of a renewal of the previous night's activity on board the sloop, and in due time the wireless sparks began sputtering from the aerials at the masthead.

They had hardly begun when they abruptly ceased. Her ears caught the sound of the anchor chain scraping through the hawse-hole. The anchor came aboard with a clatter, the mainsail was sent to the peak in short order, the boom swung over and the big sail caught the faint breeze that drifted in from the sea. The sloop, to her amazement, moved out from the bay. No sooner had it cleared the land than a fresh ocean breeze heeled the boat down, sending it rapidly out to sea, where it soon disappeared, sailing without any lights whatever, even the riding light having been taken in before the captain had started out.

"What can it mean?" wondered Harriet Burrell. "I know something questionable is going on here, but what is it?"

There was no answer to the question. The tide was now booming on the beach and a fresher breeze was springing up, the wind outside having veered until it blew directly into the cove. The girl waited for the return of the "Sister Sue" until long after midnight, then went to bed. The sky had become overcast and a spattering of raindrops smote her in the face. The prospect was for a drizzly night.

When the camp awakened next morning the sloop was at her anchorage. What time she had come in Harriet had not the slightest idea, but it must have been early in the morning, because the skipper was just furling the mainsail as the girl emerged from the cabin. The sail was so soaked that he had difficulty in bending it to the boom to which he was trying to house it. But Harriet Burrell said nothing of her discovery at breakfast that morning. Later in the day she confided the secret to Tommy. The latter twisted her face, grimaced and winked wisely. The two girls understood each other.

Captain Bill did not mention having been out with the boat, though Harriet gave him an excellent opportunity to do so that same day. A drenching drizzle fell all day long. Of course, this did not interfere with the camp work. The Camp Girls never ceased their labors for rain or storm of any kind. Later on in the day the Meadow-Brook Girls went aboard the sloop with their guardian, principally for the reason that Harriet wished to take further lessons in seamanship. She had learned her compass card well and earned the praise of the grizzled old skipper, but she was ambitious to accomplish greater things.

Several days passed, during which the drizzle scarcely ceased for a moment. But during all this time the young woman was not idle, so far as her new interests were concerned. She had asked questions, inquiring the names of things and their uses until she knew them intimately. The ropes and stays, from a mass of complex, meaningless cordage, had resolved themselves into individual units, each of which had its use and its purpose; the compass was no longer a mystery, and, during a lull in the drizzle, when the sun had come out on the fifth day, Harriet was permitted to take an observation with the sextant, the instrument with which mariners take sights to determine their positions at sea.

Harriet was instructed to catch the sun at its zenith, which she did, noting the figures on the scale of the sextant and from which, under the instruction of the captain, she figured out the latitude of the sloop. He allowed her to do all the figuring herself. The result was startling. The skipper took her calculations, studied them, frowned, then permitted his face to expand into a wrinkled grin.

"Young lady, did you think this was Noah's Ark!" he demanded.

"No, sir. Wh—y?"

"Because according to your figures the 'Sister Sue' is at this minute located on a line with Mt. Washington, off yonder in the White Range."

Harriet flushed to the roots of her hair as her companions shouted gleefully. At last Harriet Burrell had found something that she could not do. But the captain quickly informed them that to be able to take observations accurately, and then figure them out, required long and close application. Some mariners never were really good at theoretical navigation. Nor had Harriet, as yet, mastered the principles of trigonometry, which branch of mathematics underlies navigation.

On the following morning the sun came out, and by the time the camp was awake the mainsails and jibs had been put out to dry. They were permitted to swing free all day long and by nightfall were dry and white, ready for the next sail. Captain Billy had promised them a long sail, though not having told them where. That evening he consulted with the Chief Guardian in her tent, with the result that the Meadow-Brook Girls, Miss Elting and five of their companions were told to prepare themselves for an early departure on the following morning, provided the day were fair.

The girls were delighted, especially Harriet, who looked forward to putting into actual practice the theories that she had learned. A full day's provisions were put aboard, for these long sails could not be made on schedule time in every instance. An early breakfast was eaten by those who were to go on the sail, after which, bidding good-bye to their companions who remained behind, the sailing party set out for the beach, where Captain Billy was awaiting them with the small boat. The passengers were put aboard in two loads, Harriet and Crazy Jane in the first boat. The two girls set the jibs, which they had in place by the time the skipper returned with the others of the sailing party. They then hoisted the mainsail, and were under way a very few minutes after the party was snugly aboard. The "Sister Sue" sailed out of the bay to the accompaniment of fluttering handkerchiefs from the shore and shrill cries of good-bye.

"I'll thend you a pothtal card from Europe," shouted Tommy.

The "Sue" dipped and heeled under the fresh breeze, and, with a "bone in her teeth"—a white bar of foam at her bows—reached for the open sea.

"Take the wheel," ordered the skipper, nodding at Harriet. "Don't move it much except to fill your sails. See that the sails are full and pulling strongly at all times, and watch the weather for squalls. When the sails are pulling too strong, point the nose closer into the wind, but the 'Sue' will stand up under more than an ordinary squall. That's it."

"She is a splendid boat!" cried Harriet.

"She is at least a well-balanced boat," answered Captain Billy. "Having the wind on the quarter, we do not have to tack any on this course. You see, we are headed Northeast by East three-quarters. Keep her there."

"Were I to keep straight on as I am, where would we land?" asked Harriet.

"England."

"Oh, let uth keep right on until we get to England," piped Tommy. "How far ith it?"

"Three thousand miles, more or less," replied the skipper.

"Thave me!"

She had followed the skipper forward, where he had gone to change the set of one of the jibs, Tommy watching him with questioning eyes.

"There wath a man at the camp the other day," began the little lisping girl.

"A man? What did he want in your camp?"

"He wath athking quethtionth about you and the boat," replied Tommy innocently.

"Eh?" The skipper's filmy blue eyes took on a steely glint. "Asking about me?"

"Yeth."

"What did he want to know?"

"All about you."

"Did he say what for?" Captain Billy showed more excitement in his manner than Tommy ever before had seen him exhibit.

"No, not that I know of. He athked the guardianth about you, tho I heard, where we got you and who got you. Why do you thuppothe he wanted to know all of thothe thingth?" questioned the little girl, her eyes wide, questioning and innocent.

"I don't know, Miss. Forget it."

"Do you thuppothe it hath anything to do with the 'Thilly Thue' going out in the night?"

Captain Billy gripped the sheet that he was wrapping about a cleat, his red face took on a deeper shade, his eyes grew menacing. But Tommy refused to see anything threatening in either attitude or gaze. She chuckled gleefully.

"Oh, I can keep a thecret. I haven't told anything, have I?" laughed Tommy as she ran back to her companions, her eyes bright and sparkling. "I made him thit up and notithe thingth," she chuckled in Harriet's ear. "You watch him, and thee how mad he lookth when he cometh back here."

The expression on the face of the skipper bore out all that Tommy had said of him. Harriet rebuked her, and demanded to know what she had said, but Tommy laughed merrily and ran into the cabin.

The "Sue" was getting well out to sea now. The shore line was sinking gradually into the sea. The land had become a faint, purplish blur in the distance, a strong, salty breeze was blowing across the sloop and the Atlantic rollers were becoming longer. The "Sue" was beginning to roll heavily, rising and falling to the accompaniment of creaking boom, rattling mast rings and flapping jibs. Keeping on one's feet was becoming more and more difficult with the passing of the moments.

"Oh, help!" moaned Margery, in an anguished voice.

"What ith the matter!" demanded Tommy, squinting quizzically at her companion, whose face was deathly pale.

"Oh, I'm so ill," moaned Buster. Then she toppled over into the cockpit, where she lay moaning. Miss Elting and Hazel picked her up, carried her into the cabin and placed her on one of the cushioned locker seats. Margery promptly rolled off with the next lurch of the sloop. "I wish I were dead!" she moaned.

"Cheer up! The wortht ith yet to come," cooed Tommy.

"Do you think this is perfectly safe?" questioned Miss Elting, after having staggered outside. "The sea is very rough and we are a long way from shore."

"Not at all, Miss," replied the captain. "This is a very fine sea. Why, this boat could go through a hurricane and never leak a drop. You see, we are taking no water aboard at all. Where will you find a boat as dry as this, I'd like to know?"

Thus reassured, the guardian felt better about their situation, though she began to feel dizzy and a few moments later was forced to join Margery in the cabin. Buster was still on the cabin floor, unable to keep on the locker seat. She was tossing from side to side with every roll of the sloop. Four other girls from the camp by this time had sought what comfort was to be had in the cabin. Outside, Jane, Harriet, Tommy, Hazel and the skipper were taking their full measure of the enjoyment of the hour. Harriet got out a basket of food, and, bracing herself against the combing, proceeded to eat. Her companions on deck joined her. Tommy carried a roast beef sandwich into the cabin.

"Have a nithe, fat thandwitch with me?" she asked.

Dismal groans greeted her invitation. Harriet called her back.

"You shouldn't have done that, Tommy," she rebuked. "It was most unkind of you. How would you like to be aggravated if you were seasick?"

"If I got theathick I'd detherve to be teathed. Oh, thee the gullth."

A flock of white gulls was circling over the "Sister Sue." Harriet flung overboard a handful of crumbs, whereat the birds swooped down, rode the swells and greedily picked up the crumbs. They started up and soon overtook the sloop. For an hour the girls fed them; then, the crumbs being exhausted, the gulls soared out to sea in search of other craft and food.

For some time the sailing party had been so fully engaged with their own affairs that they had given little thought to their surroundings. They now began to look about them.

"The land has disappeared!" cried Harriet. "We are out of sight of land. Isn't this splendid? How far are we out from home, Captain?"

"Nearly forty miles," he answered, after consulting the log. "Want to go back?"

"Oh, no! Let's keep on going. How I wish we could keep on forever in this way."

"We will go on until we meet a ship that is due here."

"A ship! Oh, where?" cried the girls.

The captain pointed a gnarled finger at a faint smudge on the distant horizon.

"Yonder she is," he answered. "Shall we go out and meet her?"

"Yes, oh, yes!" shouted the Meadow-Brook Girls gleefully. He changed the course of the "Sister Sue" ever so little, and they went bowling along over the Atlantic rollers headed for the big liner that was approaching them at nearly thirty miles an hour.



CHAPTER XXI

AN ANXIOUS OUTLOOK

"Come out, girlth, and thee the thhip," shouted Tommy, poking her head into the cabin.

"Go away and don't bother me," groaned Margery. "Can't you see how sick I am?"

"Ithn't that too bad?" deplored Tommy, withdrawing her face with a most unsympathetic grin. All those on deck were watching the black smudge on the horizon, and as they gazed it grew into a great, dark cloud. Out of the cloud, after a time, they saw white foam flashing in the sunlight, caused by the displacement of the great ship as she forged through the summer seas.

"Shall we pass near her?" questioned Miss Elting.

"We're right on her course," replied the skipper. "We'll turn out soon, for she won't shift her position an inch unless she thinks we're going to run into her. Let your boat off a point to starboard, Miss Burrell."

"Aye, aye," answered Harriet promptly, shifting the wheel slightly, eyes fixed on the trembling compass card. The shift of position threw the wind directly abeam. It was now blowing squarely against the quarter, causing the sloop to heel down at a sharp angle. The boat fairly leaped forward, her lee rail almost buried in a smother of foam. The eyes of the girl at the wheel sparkled with pleasure. It was glorious. Harriet Burrell could not remember to have enjoyed a happier moment.

"They are watching us," announced the captain, who had been examining the oncoming ship through his glass. "They think we may be coming out to speak to them," he added with a chuckle.

"We don't thpeak thhipth in the daylight," answered Tommy, drawing a quick glance from the captain. Harriet gave her a warning look, then devoted her attention to steering the course, glancing at the oncoming ship every now and then.

"Swing out," directed Captain Billy. "She throws a heavy swell. We will cut across it at right angles passing under her stern. I'll tell you when to swing in so we'll just make it. Now, can you see the people?"

"Yes, yes!" cried the girls.

The huge red and black funnels belching clouds of dense black smoke were now plainly visible, as were the towering upperworks of the ship, and the bridge high in the air.

"Swing in," commanded the "Sue's" skipper.

Harriet put the helm hard over. The sloop responded quickly. Now the spray dashed over the boat in a drenching shower, bringing shouts of glee from the Meadow-Brook Girls. The move in a few minutes brought them so close to the big ship that the girls could look into the fresh sea-blown faces of the passengers who crowded the rails on that side of the liner. It seemed as if the sloop must crash into the side of the larger boat. Harriet glanced inquiringly at Captain Billy, who nodded encouragingly, from which she understood that there was no cause for alarm.

The girls were now waving their handkerchiefs and shouting to the amazed passengers, who could not understand why a party in so frail a craft should be met with far out to sea, how far few of those on the ship knew. They did know that they were out of sight of land, which made the marvel all the greater.

"Point in closer," commanded Captain Billy.

Harriet swung in still more. The "Sister Sue" buried her nose in the foamy, eddying wake of the liner close under the counter, so close, in fact, that the girls could see the water boiling over the twin propellers and hear their beat. The next moment they had passed her and were on the open, rolling sea again, with the big ship threshing her way toward New York, rapidly widening the gap between herself and the venturesome little craft. For the moment that they had been blanketed by the steamer their sails had flattened and they had lost headway, but now the wind picked them up, the sails bellied and the little sloop continued on her way.

"We must turn now," said the skipper, consulting the skies, which he swept with a comprehensive glance. He gave Harriet the return course. "I fear we are going to lose the wind. It will pick up later, however. No need to be anxious." He stepped inside the cabin and, leaning forward, consulted the barometer. Harriet noted that his face wore a look of anxiety for the moment. But it had entirely disappeared when he returned to the deck. Once more he swept the horizon.

"How is the glass?" she asked, but in a voice too low for her companions to hear. Harriet referred to the barometer.

"It has fallen over an inch in two hours," answered Captain Billy.

"That is a big drop, isn't it?"

"I should say so. But don't say anything to the others," he added, with a quick glance at the girls to see if any had overheard either his or Harriet Burrell's remarks.

"It means a blow, does it not?"

"Yes. But it may be a long way off, possibly a hundred miles or more."

"Then, again, we may be right in the center of it?" she questioned.

The skipper nodded again.

"Is there anything to be done?"

"Nothing except to make all the time we can and keep a weather eye aloft and abroad. Watch your sails and trim them for every breath of air. Jockey her. Now is your time to see what can be done when there is little wind to be had."

Harriet was getting practical experience in sailing a boat such as falls to few novices, but she took to the work like one who had long been used to the sea and its varying moods. Under her skilful manipulation the "Sister Sue" was making fairly good headway, though nothing like what she had done on the outward voyage, for the wind was dying out, becoming more fitful, shifting from one point of the compass to another.

"When the wind moves opposite to the direction of the hands of a clock—what seamen call 'against the clock'—look out for foul weather," the captain informed her.

"That is the way it is going now, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I hope we shall have enough to take us home."

"We may have too much." Once more the skipper studied the horizon to the northeast. That he was not pleased with his observation Harriet was confident. Again he took a long look at the barometer, glanced at the compass to see that she was on her course, then, thrusting his hands into his pockets, studied the rigging overhead.

"We aren't making much headway, are we?" questioned Miss Elting.

"None at all," was the, to her, surprising reply; "we're in a dead calm now."

The waves had taken on an oily appearance and there were no longer white crests on the rollers. The "Sister Sue" rolled and plunged in a sickening way, the boom swinging from side to side. All hands were in the cockpit or cabin, however, so that there was no danger of their being hit by the swinging boom. In the cabin was heard a series of groans more agonized than before. The guardian had recovered in a measure, though they observed that she was very pale. The fresh air outside revived her somewhat.

"I wish you to tell me frankly if there is any danger?" she demanded.

"Not yet," was the skipper's evasive answer.

"Meaning that there may be later?"

"We may be late getting home," he replied. "I can't say any more than that now. Ugh!"

Harriet Burrell saw him gazing off to the northeast. She followed the direction of his glance, and saw a purplish haze hanging heavily on the horizon. As she gazed the purple haze seemed to grow darker and to increase in size. The sight disturbed her, though she did not know why. The sea now made little noise. A flock of seagulls could be plainly heard honking high overhead, and a chattering flock of stormy petrels soared down, coming to rest on the water in the wake of the sloop.

"I'll take in the jibs. Mind your wheel. We are in for a blow," announced the skipper.



CHAPTER XXII

IN THE GRIP OF MIGHTY SEAS

The captain quickly furled the jibs, then took a reef in the mainsail. Consulting the skies again, he decided to leave one of the jibs up, so set it once more and took another reef in the mainsail, thus shortening the latter considerably.

The "Sister Sue" was now making no headway at all, but was rolling dizzily from wave to wave, now and then a swell striking the side of the little boat and tumbling torrents of green water over into the cockpit. The girls were set to work bailing. They already were soaked to the skin, though, instead of being disturbed, they were laughing joyously, thinking it great fun. Their attention was called to a school of porpoises that came leaping toward them, appearing at first like miniature geysers springing out of the oily green seas. The porpoises divided, passing on either side of the sloop and close aboard, racing on toward the land that lay off yonder somewhere in the green distance.

It was now impossible to stand without holding fast to something that would not give. Harriet had never seen a boat roll so fast. From side to side it lurched, plunging at the same time, both with almost incredible speed. Her own head was beginning to spin. Tommy's face was pale.

"You're getting seasick," smiled Harriet, eyeing her friend sharply.

"No, I'm not," protested the little girl "You're getting thick yourthelf."

"I confess to being dizzy," admitted Harriet, "but I am not so ill that I must go to bed. Keep outside. You will be much better off than in the cabin, where the air is close and the others are suffering."

"I'm going to, thank you." Tommy stood braced against the cabin, her keen little eyes observing the now serious face of the skipper. "I gueth thomething ith going to happen," she observed.

"Don't tell the others," cautioned Harriet, with a warning shake of the head.

"I don't intend to. What ith it, a thtorm?"

Harriet nodded.

"I knew it. I jutht knew thomething wath going to break loothe."

The purple haze was nearing at a rapid rate of speed, and Harriet Burrell saw that with it the sea was piling up, its white crests angry and menacing.

"Try to keep the wind dead astern," ordered the skipper. "I will handle the sheets. Do you think you can manage it?"

"Yes, sir. I will be on the lookout for orders. You may depend upon me, sir."

"Then we'll weather it, but we shall get pretty wet, and night is coming on, too. We're going to have a merry night of it! All hands who do not wish to get a ducking go below," shouted the skipper.

Miss Elting, Jane, Harriet and Tommy remained outside. The captain tossed a rope to each, directing them to tie the ropes about their waists, making the lines fast to a cleat on the after end of the raised deck cabin.

"Just for safety's sake," he nodded.

The wind was beginning to whistle through the rigging, the water to foam under the bows of the "Sister Sue," showing that she was getting under good headway.

"Port one point," bellowed the skipper. Harriet instantly obeyed the command. Then the gale was upon them with a screech and a roar. A volume of water that threatened to swamp them rolled toward the stern, but before it had done so Harriet, acting upon a sharply uttered command, had swung the sloop about until its nose met the oncoming rush of wind and water. She gasped for breath as the flood of salt water enveloped her; yet, bracing her feet, clung firmly to the wheel, holding the craft on the new course. Afterward Harriet had a faint recollection of having seen her companions swimming on the green sea in the little cockpit, Tommy's pale face standing out more prominently than all the rest.

"We made it," roared the skipper. "Now hold her steady, and she will ride it out like a duck." He grabbed up a pail and began bailing with all his might. Jane did likewise, then Miss Elting lent her assistance. Tommy was clinging to the cabin roof with all her might.

Before the storm struck them they had not thought to light their masthead and side lights. Now it was next to impossible to do so. The sloop was rushing through the seas without a light to mark her presence on the sea that was growing more wild with the moments. But the binnacle light was burning steadily over the compass, so that the helmswoman was able to see in which direction they were heading. The compass told her that, instead of making headway toward land, they were rushing along at a frightful rate of speed toward Europe. Still, she realized that this was the only safe course to follow.

All at once Harriet Burrell uttered a sharp cry of alarm. She threw the wheel over so suddenly that a wave smashing against the side of the sloop nearly turned them turtle. Captain Billy, with quick instinct, let go the mainsail, which swung out far to leeward, thus saving the little craft from being upset. Up to this moment he did not know what the sudden shifting meant, but just as he was about to bellow to the helmswoman he caught sight of a towering mass of lights that for the moment seemed to hang over them, then flashed on, missing the "Sue" by a few scant rods of water. They had had a narrow escape from being run down by a steamer. But for Harriet's quickness, nothing could have saved them. It was plain that those on the bridge of the steamer had not discovered the small boat in the sea under their bows, for they did not even hail.

"Good work," bellowed the skipper.

"I thought we'd got to Europe," shouted Tommy.

"Lay her to. I've got to close reef that sail," commanded the captain.

Harriet pointed the bow right into the teeth of the wind. Oh, how that little craft did plunge! At times it seemed as if the greater part of her length were wholly out of water, that she had taken a long, quivering leap from the crest of one great wave to another. So hard was she pitching that she had little time left in which to roll. Salt spray rained down over the decks until the cabin itself was almost wholly hidden from the view of the girl at the wheel. In the meantime the captain had reefed the mainsail down to the last row.

"Now let her off a few points," he directed.

Boom!

"Oh, what was that?" cried Miss Elting, her voice barely heard in the shriek of the gale. "What happened?"

"Jib gone by the board," shouted the captain. "Lucky if we don't lose the mainsail the same way."

Harriet had not uttered a sound when the startling report had boomed out above the roar of the storm, but her heart had seemed to leap into her throat. Her arms had grown numb under the strain of holding the wheel, for the sea was hurling its tremendous force against the craft, requiring great effort on the part of the helmswoman to keep the boat on its course. But she clung doggedly to her chosen task, seeking to pierce the darkness ahead with her gaze. The salt water made her eyes smart so that she could scarcely see at all. Yet she could feel the wind on her face, and by that guide alone she was enabled to keep the "Sue" headed into the storm. She long since had ceased trying to keep the boat on a compass course, for the greater part of the time the compass card was invisible either through the spray or solid water, as the case might be.