It was perhaps the best thing those children could have done, to go to that boat. It not only was a refuge from the things they most feared, but it became a little home where they were necessarily bound together within circumscribed limits, and it gave them a chance to study one another and grow into a love that they had never before had opportunity for, in the rushing life at home. Naturally the children turned to their older brother and sister, as next to their parents, and became delightfully devoted to them.
“I wuv you, Jennifer!” Robin would say, climbing up in her lap in the early evening as they sat on deck and watched the dying glow in the west. “Jerry’s a nice bruvver, too,” he would add with an approving glance Jeremy’s way. And Karen would slide along behind Jeremy’s chair and run her fingers through his hair and say nonchalantly, “’Course he is.”
So for the most part it was willing obedience that the younger ones gave to all directions.
The older ones found themselves spending much thought on amusement for the younger ones.
Every day they took a trip to the bay or explored some new little river, learning the nautical language, the older ones becoming more familiar with the routine of handling the boat.
Often Jerry would take them, one or two at a time, in the little dinghy and teach them the technique of rowing, until Tryon and Hazel were at last allowed to take the boat themselves, with one of the others for passengers, though Robin and Karen, of course, always donned their life jackets for such excursions, and they were warned to keep within watching radius of the big boat. Sometimes they went swimming, quietly, at an hour when most other boats were off on a cruise. Jerry was very careful that they should not run any risks of being discovered and reported. He did not allow the children to forget that they were in hiding, knowing only too well how easily a false move or a telltale voice might betray them to a world they wanted to avoid. And to that end he had daily what he called “scram” practice, though not at a stated time. When they were lest expecting it, he would suddenly appear among them and utter the magic word Scram! and the whole little huddle of them would disappear like frightened mice and in a jiffy be lying flat and quiet upon their bunks. They had practiced this so much that they would practically do it without sound of going, and apparently in one motion. They were like soldiers, always alert and ready.
Early in the first week on the boat they subscribed for the New York Times in Captain Andy’s name. They told him they wanted to see it every day but didn’t care to give their friends this much clue as to their whereabouts. So they studied the personals carefully every day. Uncle Blakefield’s first reply to Jennifer’s note was brief and characteristic:
J.J.:
I heartily approve your attitude. Will do as suggested. Let me know of your welfare often through these columns or otherwise, as convenient.
B.G.
It gave Jennifer quite a thrill to read that first message. Uncle Blake was true to form. She had known he would take it that way. Yet she was half aware that through the calmness of his brief words there might still be an uneasiness that he would not own. But he would be loyal and true. He would never betray the trust she had put in him. He would not let the others start a search if he could possibly help it. Somehow he would manage to warn them if danger were seeking them through overzealous relatives. Yet little as was this small link to their old life, it warmed all their hearts and cheered them through the days that, to the two older Graemes at least, were more or less filled with continued anxiety.
But each day as it went by peacefully, with no invasions and continued kindliness from Captain Andy, reassured them and made them feel more secure in their lovely hiding place.
“If we could only just stay here until it is time to go home!” sighed Jennifer one afternoon as she and the little girls finished clearing up after lunch and she settled down on the big couch to rest awhile.
“Well, perhaps we can! Who knows?” said Jeremy.
And then that very day it had to happen! Right out of the blue as it were!
They had been fishing all the morning without very great success, and Jerry had gone over with Tryon to the shore in the dinghy to get enough fish for their dinner that night, promising when he came back to take them a little way down to the bay where they could eat their supper. Then they would come back and tie up for the night to watch the sunset. This had come to be the regular program for the lovely, lazy days that went by almost like a dream, from which they all dreaded to wake up and come once more to the realization of the tragic situation.
Hazel was reading an old book for the third time.
Heather and Karen and Robin were playing with paper dolls on deck, sitting on the floor near the companionway that led to the cabin. It was sleepily quiet, and Jennifer had fallen asleep. She was just conscious of the voices of the two little girls, naming the paper dolls they had been cutting so laboriously.
“Now, Robin, don’t you step there! That is the house where our dolls live. Why can’t you play with your automobile and not bother us? Pretend you are a truck driver delivering our packages.”
“Awwight!” said Robin, racketing around on all fours, shoving his battered red toy automobile before him.
But somehow he seemed to feel detached from his young sisters and not really in the game. Presently he wandered over near to Jennifer’s couch and stood gazing out across the water dreamily.
It was very still. There was only the soft ripple of the water lapping at the boats, the distant hum of a saw at the boatyard on shore, the cadence of wings from a little gray-blue gull that settled down on the water nearby.
Robin was watching the shore where Jerry had disappeared, studying the people that came out on the wharf over at the harbor, trying to identify the boat that was slowly coming nearer. He had grown very keen on the ways of this new simple world that had replaced the old grave, sophisticated one he had known.
It was a rowboat that was coming across the water toward him. He watched the bright dip of oars, fascinated. There were three people in it. He caught the flash of color in the bright garments of a lady in the stern.
He was very still as he stood there watching, one hand lying on the rail, the other clutching his little red toy automobile, his golden hair blowing back in the breeze, his white young brow puckered in perplexity.
He was identifying the oncoming boat. It wasn’t just any boat; it was one he was sure he had seen before. Yet it wasn’t the boat that Captain Andy’s son used to bring people out to their boats. That one was bigger and went chug-chug and had a motor hidden in a box in the middle. This went by oars. The man rowing it was one of Captain Andy’s sons, the one who always smiled at Robin and said “Hi, Rob!” Robin liked him. Maybe he would smile at him now as he rowed by. But no, he wasn’t going by, he was drawing alongside that big boat right next to theirs. Robin’s eyes got very large. Why, that was the dinghy that belonged to that next boat. That’s where he had seen it before, swinging about at the stern of its cruiser like a puppy on a leash following its mother. And now he saw the man and lady. He didn’t know the lady. She had hair like Karen’s doll, and her lips were very red; her eyelashes seemed to be thick with some kind of shiny black dust. But he wasn’t much interested in the lady. It was the man beside her that held his attention. Was that someone he knew? His small heart almost stood still for an instant. The man beside the lady turned almost his full face toward him, glancing at their boat for an instant. Then he looked sharply back to the man who was rowing them, and Robin heard him say clearly: “Is that the boat you said was for sale when I was down last fall?”
Robin tried to think where he had heard that voice.
“Yes,” said the oarsman, “but someone bought it this spring.”
“Who?” asked the man, and now Robin knew who he was, and his little hear quaked within him. Filled with consternation, like a flash his young lips set in determination.
“Skwam!” he said in a sharp little imitation of Jerry’s tone, as he dropped to all
fours and cast a frightened look at Jennifer.
“Skwam!” he said again guardedly, and there was grave warning in his voice and face as he slithered toward the companionway, from which his sisters had already vanished.
Jennifer, alert at once, opened her eyes, heard the splash of oars, and, although the rail hid the couch almost completely, she rolled to the deck stealthily, getting herself down into that cabin.
“What was it, Robin?” she whispered, as she saw him watching her with wild eyes from his own bunk.
“That was Petah Villis out theah in that boat!” whispered Robin back hoarsely.
“Oh, Robin! Are you sure?” she said as she reached her hand and stealthily pulled the sheltering curtain across the entrance.
“Wes!” said Robin firmly. “I is shoah!” And he closed his eyes tightly as if that would help to make them safe.
Jennifer put one eye to a porthole.
Yes, there was Peter Willis! The girl didn’t matter. She was no one Jennifer knew, a tough-looking creature showily dressed. Peter was helping her into the other boat and Jennifer, as she watched, did some rapid thinking. They would have to get away from here at once, of course. But how could they manage in broad daylight? Of course, they could stay hidden and quiet until evening, but it would be a long anxious time to keep the children still, and suppose Peter should take a notion to come over and look at the boat? What could they do to prevent it?
He was turning now to look toward it again, and she distinctly saw his cool, calculating eyes taking in all its comely parts. Her hand trembled as she held the curtain. He evidently was interested in their boat. Was it just as a boat, or did he have some inkling whose it was and was he trying to search for them? Not very likely with that girl along; and yet they must take no chances. How as Jerry going to get across to them without being seen?
The two newcomers on the boat nearby were standing on their deck now, taking in the scene, but Peter’s eyes were distinctly on the Graeme boat.
“I’d like to have that boat over there,” she heard Peter say to the young man who was preparing to leave. “Be sure to ask your father about it, and tell me when you come back. Are there people on it now? I thought I saw a child by the rail there when we came up. I’d like to go on board and look around before dark. Ask your father to see if it’s all right.”
Jennifer could see it was Captain Andy’s son Bert who was spoken to, and he had a conscious look about him as he answered indifferently, with averted eyes. “Okay! But I think there’s some people on board. Some of the family, I guess.
“Well, you find out for me,” said Peter.
“Okay.” And then the little boat dipped its oars and began to glide away. Oh, what could she do?
The two on the other boat had turned their attention now and were examining everything. Surely that wasn’t Peter’s boat. She didn’t know of his owning a boat. Perhaps it belonged to someone he knew who had let him take it for a while. Ah, they were stepping inside the cabin, perhaps to look around there, or to change to yachting clothes. If they stayed some time, why couldn’t she get those outer curtains closed and make it look as if the owner had departed while they were inside? But she must not go out herself. She turned quickly toward Heather’s bunk.
“Get up quick, dear,” she whispered. “Put on these old knickers of Tryon’s. Where’s his old cap? Here it is. I want you to slip outside and pull the curtains down tight. Don’t stop to fasten them till you have them all down. Don’t look at that other boat over there, and don’t turn your face so they can see it. Wait now, I’ll peek out and see if the coast is clear.”
“Shall I leave a curtain open for Jerry and Try?” asked the little girl softly.
“No, we’ll keep watch for them. Now, quick! They’ve gone inside! Do the ones on their side first. Be quick!”
Heather, lithe and agile, arrayed in her brother’s garments, slid out like a wraith and whisked down the curtains in a jiffy, feeling very important that she was trusted to do it.
“Now,” she said as she crept back, “that old Peter can’t see inside at all. Old nosy thing! What does he havta come around and spoil our nice time for, I’d likta know?” Suddenly Heather ducked her head down into her pillow and wept with all her might, softly, her little shoulders shaking violently under Tryon’s torn sweater and her spindly legs quivering forlornly out from the mammoth knickers that almost hid them.
“There! There!” said the big sister, coming close. “Don’t cry, Heather darling. You’ve just done a great big brave thing getting those curtains all closed quickly and not getting caught, and now you mustn’t be a softy and cry! Keep Try’s clothes on awhile. We may need to send you on deck for something when Jerry gets here, and nobody, not even Jerry, would know you in those togs. You don’t know how dear and funny you look, kittykins.”
The comforting was all done in whispers, for that other boat was perilously near, but bright eyes looked down on Heather from the other bunks, and presently the tears were dried, and she smiled at them all.
“Now,” said Jennifer, “you get all the hairbrushes and toothbrushes and combs together, and put them in the two overnight bags. You know which they belong in. Karen, you know where the suitcases are. Bring them out and put them by our different bunks. Hazel, you fold the clothes. Heather can help when she gets the overnight bags ready.”
“Are we going away?” asked Hazel in dismay.
“I don’t know yet,” said Jennifer, “but we’ll have to be ready. We may have to go in a hurry, and it’s better to have things ready. Then we won’t be in danger of leaving something important behind. Don’t make a noise. Robin, you lay these handkerchiefs smoothly in that nice box, and don’t talk. When you get that done you can sit out there on deck and keep a watch out for Jerry. But don’t you call or make a noise! Just watch, and if anything happens, or you see Peter and the girl come out, you slip softly in and whisper to me.”
“Awwight!” said Robin solemnly, and in no time at all he handed over the handkerchief box and took his place gravely by a curtain where he could peek out.
It was amazing how quickly that packing was done, compared to the time it had taken them to gather things together at home.
“What about food?” asked Hazel as she snapped her suitcase shut and looked around on the other laborers. “There’s quite a lot of bread, and there’s some of the beefsteak left over from last night. I could make some sandwiches.”
“Yes,” said Jennifer, “get something ready. If we have to go away we may have to eat in the car. There are two or three apples, aren’t there? Slice them and put them between bread and butter. They’ll be good if we get thirsty.”
One by one the suitcases were packed. Jennifer even began on Jerry’s, for there was no telling if they might not have to rush as soon as he came. Why didn’t he come?
She looked at the ship’s clock and knew he had been longer than ever before when he went shopping. Every two or three minutes she came to the lookout and swept the water with an anxious glance. Jerry had meant to come right back and start toward the bay. What was keeping him? She feared to have him come, lest he should be seen, yet she feared because he was so late.
“Haven’t you seen anything of Jerry, Robin?” she whispered.
Robin shook his head.
“No, but—but—there vas a boat—looked like outs—started—started—fum—fum—over zere! But it vented avay up zat ozzer side of the wivver, toward the bayvay!” said Robin, with a troubled look. “Jerry vouldn’t go zat vay, vould he?”
“Oh, no, of course not,” said Jennifer, but she gave another troubled glance out and wondered. Was it conceivable that Jerry had found out that Peter was in these parts? Had he perhaps seen him? No, that wasn’t in the least likely, for Jerry would surely have come at once to the rescue. Or was it possible he was waiting till dark?
The anxiety made the work all the harder.
It was growing quite late in the afternoon. Could anything have happened to Jerry?
Ought she perhaps to sound the horn that called the Captain? Find out what was the matter with Jerry? But no, that would only call attention to themselves. It was better to remain utterly silent as long as possible. And nothing could have happened to Jerry and Tryon, of course. There must be some reason for this delay.
Investigation showed that the two occupants of the next boat were out swimming. But Peter seemed to be coming over toward their boat! Jennifer’s heart was in her mouth as she watched him anxiously. Then she went searching for a scarf in her suitcase, which she tied around her head and face so it would be somewhat of a disguise in case he really did venture to board the boat. Of course, it wouldn’t be at all a gentlemanly thing to do, but Peter was always taking chances, and getting away with them, too, and she knew just how easily and handsomely he would laugh it off in case he decided to try it.
The voices of the two were really coming nearer now. As they lazily floated along they were discussing the size of the boat, its lines, admiring it. With the curtains all down they would surely think nobody was aboard.
Hastily she remanded the children to their bunks by uttering the magic word Scram! and she herself sat intensely waiting, enveloped in a large apron, her face bound around with one of Jerry’s handkerchiefs, as if she had a toothache. A pair of black goggles covered her eyes, and the scarf was over her head. She found herself trembling from hand to foot.
Of course, there was nothing awful to be afraid of, except that their whole plan would be utterly spoiled. If Peter found them out he would take strenuous measures at once to report to all the aunts, especially Aunt Petra, and there would be orders from home at once before they could possibly get word to Uncle Blake for help. And even so, Uncle Blake didn’t bulk very impressively with the rest of them. There probably wasn’t much that Uncle Blake could do about it if the relatives took things in their own hands.
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