Helen in the Editor's Chair

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER IX _Rescue on Lake Dubar_

  Helen stared hard at the place where her friend should have been. Had themagic of Miss Carver's story been so strong that she was imaginingthings? She rubbed her eyes and looked again. There was no mistake.Margaret had disappeared!

  Helen's cry caught the attention of the other members of the class andMiss Carver stopped her story.

  "What's the matter, Helen?" the teacher asked.

  "Look," cried Helen dazedly, pointing to the spot where Margaret had beensitting, "Margaret's gone!"

  Miss Carver's eyes widened and she gave a little shudder. Then she smiledto reassure Helen and the other members of the class.

  "Probably Margaret slipped away and is hiding just to add a thrill to myghost story. I'll call her."

  "Margaret, oh, Margaret!" The teacher's voice rang through the night. Shecupped her hands and called again when there was no response to her firstone. Once more she called but still there was no answer from the massedmaples behind them or the dark waters of the lake.

  "This is more than a joke," muttered Ned Burns, the class president."We'd better get out and have a look around."

  He stepped toward the fire, threw on an armful of fresh, dry sticks, andthe flames leaped higher, throwing their reflection further into thenight.

  "We'll take a look into the woods," he told Miss Carver, "and you and thegirls hunt along the lake shore. Margaret might have fallen and hurtherself."

  Miss Carver agreed and the girls gathered around her. There was a queertightness in Helen's throat and a tugging at her heart that unnervedher--a vague, pressing fear that something was decidedly wrong withMargaret.

  The boys disappeared into the shadows of the timber and the girls turnedtoward the lake shore.

  They had just started their search when Miss Carver made an importantdiscovery.

  "Girls," she cried, "One of the rowboats we rented this afternoon ismissing!"

  Helen ran toward the spot, the other girls crowding around her. Theycould make out the marks of the boat's keel in the sand and a girl'sfootprints.

  "Those prints were made by Margaret's shoes," said Helen. "You can seethe marks of the heel plates she has on her oxfords."

  "We'll call the boys," said Miss Carver, and Helen thought she detected areal note of alarm in the teacher's voice although Miss Carver was makingevery possible effort to appear calm.

  When the boys arrived, Miss Carver told them of their discovery and NedBurns took charge of the situation.

  "We'll get in the other rowboat," he said, "and start looking forMargaret. In the meantime, someone must go up to Linder's farmhouse andtelephone town. Margaret's father ought to know she's out on the lake inthe boat. Also call Jim Preston and if he hasn't started down with the_Liberty_, have him come at once."

  "I'll go to the farm," volunteered Helen.

  "O. K.," nodded Ned as he selected two other boys to accompany him in therowboat. They pushed off the sandy beach, dropped the oars in the locks,and splashed away into the night.

  "Don't you want someone to go to the farmhouse with you?" Miss Carverasked Helen.

  But Helen shook her head and ran up the beach. She didn't want anyonewith her; she wanted to be alone. The other girls didn't realize theseriousness of the situation. She could understand what Margaret haddone. Realizing that Miss Carver would tell them a first rate thriller ofa ghost story, Margaret had decided to add an extra thrill bydisappearing for a few minutes. But something had gone wrong and shehadn't been able to get back.

  Helen paused and looked over the black, mysterious waters of Lake Dubar.What secret were they keeping from her? Thoughts of what might havehappened to Margaret brought the queer, choky sobs again and she ran ontoward Linder's where the welcome glow of light showed through thewindows of the farmhouse.

  Old Mr. Linder came to the door in answer to Helen's quick, insistentknocks.

  "What's the matter, young Lady?" he asked, peering at her through themellow radiance of the kerosene lamp which he held in one hand.

  "I'm Helen Blair," she explained, "and one of my classmates hasdisappeared from our picnic party down the beach. One of the boats werented from you is missing and we're sure Margaret is adrift on the lakeand unable to get back. I'd like to use your telephone to let her fatherknow and to call Jim Preston."

  "Why, certainly," said Mr. Linder, "I don't wonder at your hurry. Comeright in and use the phone. Who did you say the girl was?"

  "Margaret Stevens," Helen replied.

  "Must be Doctor Stevens' daughter," said the farmer.

  "She is," Helen replied, as she reached the telephone in the hallway.

  While Helen was ringing for the operator at Rolfe, Mr. Linder stuck hishead in the living room.

  "Mother," he said, "Doctor Stevens' daughter is adrift somewhere on thelake in one of our boats. I'm going down and see if I can help find her."

  Mrs. Linder came into the hall and Helen heard her husband telling herwhat had happened. Then the Rolfe operator answered and Helen gave herthe number of Doctor Stevens' office.

  The doctor answered almost instantly and Helen, phrasing her sentences astactfully as possible so as not to unduly alarm the doctor, told him whathad happened.

  "Sounds just like Margaret," he snorted. "I'll be right down. Now don'tworry too much, Helen," he added.

  "I won't, Doctor Stevens," promised Helen with a shaky attempt atcheerfulness.

  Then she called Jim Preston's home and learned that he had left fifteenminutes before and should be almost down to Linder's.

  "We'll go down to the landing and wait for Jim," said Mr. Linder as helighted a lantern he had brought from the kitchen.

  "Everything will come out all right," Mrs. Linder assured Helen.

  The farmer led the way down to the landing. The wind was fresheningrapidly and Helen saw Mr. Linder anxiously watching the white caps whichwere pounding against the sandy beach.

  Down the beach their picnic campfire was a red glow and Helen could seeMiss Hughes and the girls huddled around it. The boys who had notaccompanied Ned Burns were walking up and down along the shore.

  She turned and looked up the lake. Two lights, one red and one green, themarkers of the _Liberty_, were coming down the lake.

  "Jim Preston will be here in another minute," said Mr. Linder, "and withthe searchlight he's got on the _Liberty_ it won't take us long to findDoctor Stevens' daughter."

  Helen nodded miserably as the _Liberty_ slowed down and swung its nosetoward the Linder pier. There was the grinding of the reverse gear as JimPreston checked the speed of his boat and left it drift against the pier.

  "Don't shut it off, Jim," cried the farmer. "Doc Stevens' daughter isadrift in the lake in one of my rowboats. We've got to go out and lookfor her."

  They climbed into the boat and Jim Preston backed the _Liberty_ away fromthe pier.

  "How did it happen?" he asked Helen. She told him briefly and he shookhis head, as though to say, "too bad, it's getting to be a nasty night onthe lake."

  The boatman opened the throttle, the motor roared its response and the_Liberty_ leaped ahead and down the lake. They ran parallel to the shoreuntil they were opposite the picnic ground. There Jim Preston sloweddown, got the direction of the wind, and turned the nose of the _Liberty_toward the open and now wind-tossed lake. He snapped on the switch and acrackling, blue beam of light cut a path ahead of the boat.

  "Keep the searchlight moving," he directed the farmer, who stood up inthe _Liberty_, his hands on the handles of the big, nickel lamp.

  The boatman held the _Liberty_ at about one third speed and they movedalmost directly across the lake while Mr. Linder kept the searchlightswinging in an arc to cover the largest possible area.

  A third of the way across they sighted a boat far to their right and JimPreston swung the nose of the _Liberty_ around sharply and opened thethrottle. They sliced through the white caps at a pace that drenched themwith the flyin
g spray but they were too intent on reaching the distantboat to stop and put up the spray boards.

  Helen's keen eyes were the first to identify the boat.

  "It's the boys," she cried. "They're beckoning us on."

  Jim Preston checked the _Liberty_ carefully and nosed alongside thetossing rowboat.

  "No sign of Margaret," admitted Ned Burns, "and the lake's getting toorough for us to stay out much longer. We've had half a dozen waves breakover us now."

  "Better get in with us," advised Preston.

  "Hand me the oars," said Mr. Linder, "and we'll let the rowboat drift.I'll pick it up in the morning."

  The boys tossed their oars into the _Liberty_ and scrambled up into themotorboat.

  Jim Preston threw in the clutch and the _Liberty_ leaped ahead to resumeits search for Margaret. Helen's lips were dry and fevered despite thesteady showers of spray and her heart hammered madly. Lake Dubar hadalways had a nasty reputation for ugliness in a fresh, sharp wind butHelen had never before realized its true danger and what a lost andhelpless feeling one could have on it at night, especially when a friendwas missing.

  There was no conversation as the _Liberty_ continued across the choppyexpanse of the lake. The searchlight picked up the far shore of the lakewith the waves hammering against the rocks which lined that particularsection. It was a grim, unnerving picture and Helen saw Jim Preston's jawharden as he swung the _Liberty_ around the cross back to Linder's sideof the lake.

  Back and forth the searchlight swung in its steady, never tiring arc, butit revealed only the danger of Lake Dubar at night. There was no sign ofMargaret.

  They reached the shore from which they had started and turned around fora third trip across the lake. This time they slapped through the waves attwenty-five miles an hour and every eye was trained to watch for somesign of the missing boat and girl.

  Helen caught a flash of white just as the searchlight reached the end ofits arc.

  "Wait!" she cried. "I saw something far to the right."

  Preston slapped the wheel of the _Liberty_ over and the speedboat roaredaway in the direction Helen pointed, its questing searchlight combing thewaves.

  "There it is again," Helen cried and pointed straight ahead where theycould discern some object half hidden by the waves.

  "That's one of my boats," muttered old Mr. Linder as they drew nearer,"but it doesn't look like there was anyone in it."

  "Don't, don't say that!" cried Helen. "There must be someone there.Margaret must be in it!"

  In her heart she knew Mr. Linder was right. The boat was rolling in thechoppy waves and there was no one visible.

  "It's half full of water," exclaimed Ned Burns as they drew nearer andJim Preston throttled down the _Liberty_ and eased in the clutch.

  Helen pushed them aside and stared at the rowboat, fully revealed in theglaring rays of the searchlight. Tragedy was dancing on the waters ofLake Dubar that night, threatening to write an indelible chapter on thehearts of Helen and her classmates for there was no sign of Margaret inthe boat.

  "Maybe she shoved the boat out into the lake and hid in the woods," saidNed Burns.

  "She wouldn't do that," protested Helen.

  They edged nearer the rowboat, Preston handling the _Liberty_ with carelest the waves created by the boat's powerful propeller capsize thesmaller boat.

  "There's something or someone in the back end," cried Ned Burns, who wasthree or four inches taller than anyone else in the boat.

  Helen stood on tip-toe.

  "It's Margaret," she cried. "Something's wrong. It looks like she'sasleep."

  But sleep in a water-logged rowboat in the middle of Lake Dubar was outof the question and Helen realized instantly that something unusual hadhappened to Margaret, something which would explain the whole joke whichhad turned out to be such a ghastly nightmare.

  Jim Preston eased the _Liberty_ alongside the rowboat and Mr. Linderreached down and picked Margaret up. There was a dark bruise over herleft eye and her clothes were soaked.

  The boatman found an old blanket in one of the lockers and they wrappedMargaret in it and pillowed her head in Helen's lap.

  Margaret's eyes were closed tightly but she was breathing slowly and herpulse was irregular.

  "Hurry," Helen whispered to Jim Preston. "Head for Linder's. Her fatherwill be there by this time."

  The boatman sensed the alarm in Helen's words and he jerked open thethrottle of the _Liberty_ and sent the boat racing through the night. Inless than five minutes they were slowing down for the pier. The lights ofa car were at the shore end of the landing and someone with an electrictorch was awaiting their arrival. It was Doctor Stevens, pacing along theplanks of the landing stage.

  "Have you found Margaret?" he cried as the _Liberty_ sidled up to thepier.

  "Got her right here," replied Jim Preston, "but she's got a bad bump onher head."

  Doctor Stevens jumped into the boat and turned his flashlight onMargaret's face. Helen saw his lips tighten into a thin straight line. Hefelt her pulse.

  "Run ahead," he told Ned Burns, "and tell Mother Linder to open one ofthose spare beds of hers and get me plenty of hot water."

  He stooped and picked Margaret up in his arms, carrying her like a baby.Mr. Linder hurried ahead to light the way.

  Helen stopped to talk with Jim Preston for a moment.

  "I think you'd better take the class home," she said. "There's nothingmore they can do here."

  "Will you go back with them now?" asked the boatman.

  "No, I'm going to stay here tonight. I'll phone mother."

  Helen turned and ran toward the farmhouse. Inside there was an air ofquiet, suppressed activity.

  Doctor Stevens had carried Margaret into the large downstairs bedroomwhich Mother Linder reserved for company occasions. Two kerosene lamps ona table beside the bed gave a rich light which softened the pallor ofMargaret's cheeks.

  Doctor Stevens was busy with an injection from a hypodermic needle,working as though against time. Tragedy had danced on the tips of thewaves a few minutes earlier but how close it came to entering thefarmhouse only Doctor Stevens knew at that hour for Margaret's strength,sapped by the terrifying experience on the lake, was near the breakingpoint and only the injection of a strong heart stimulant saved her life.

  Two hours later, hours which had been ages long to Helen as she satbeside the bed with the doctor, Margaret opened her eyes.

  "Don't talk, Marg," begged Helen. "Everything is all right. You're in abedroom at the Linders and your father is here with you."

  Margaret nodded slightly and closed her eyes. It was another hour beforeshe moved again and when she did Mother Linder was at hand with asteaming bowl of chicken broth. The nourishing food plus the hour of calmsleep had partially restored Margaret's strength and when she hadfinished the broth she sat up in bed.

  "I've been such a little fool," she said, but her father patted her hand.

  "Don't apologize for what's happened," he said. "We're just supremelyhappy to have you here," his voice so low that only Margaret and Helenheard him.

  "I thought it would be a good joke to disappear when Miss Carver startedtelling the ghost story," explained Margaret. "I got the boat out intothe lake without anyone seeing me and let it drift several hundred feet.When I tried to put the oars in the locks I stumbled, dropped themoverboard and that's the last I knew, except that for hours I wasfalling, falling, falling, and always there was the noise of the waves."

  Margaret slipped back into a deep, restful sleep when she had finishedher story. Helen, worn by the hours of tension, slid out of her chair andonto the floor, and when Doctor Stevens picked her up she was soundasleep.