by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER III LUCILE'S QUICK ACTION GAS
You must not imagine (and you might well be forgiven for doing so, if youhave read the preceding chapters) that the experiences of the three girlswhose lives are pictured here were a series of closely crowded thrillingadventures. It was not the case that no sooner was the curtain run downon one mysterious happening than the stage was set for another. Few livesare like that. Adventures do come to us all at times and we face them forthe most part bravely. Some amuse and entertain, others startle andappall, but each teaches in its own way some new lesson of life.
Adventures taken from the lives of others bring to us the greatest ratioof entertainment, but it is our own exciting and mysterious adventuresthat we speak of most often when we are clustered on the deck of somevessel or gathered about a camp fire.
While not many pages of this book may be devoted to the everyday schoollife of these girls, they had it just the same. Florence and Lucilestrolled the campus as other girls strolled. They cut classes at times.They passed difficult examinations with some credit. They reveled in thegrandeur of the architecture of the buildings of the university. Theythrilled at the thought that they were a part of the great throng thatdaily swarmed from the lecture halls, and were somewhat downcast whenthey came fully to realize their own insignificance when cast into such atossing sea of humanity.
Marian, the artist, also had her everyday rounds to make. She caught the8:15 car downtown five days in the week to labor industriously withcharcoal and brush. She saw her Alaskan sketches, which had been praisedso often and so highly, picked to pieces by the ruthless criticism of acompetent teacher, but she rallied from her first disappointment toresolve for better work in the future. She began to plan how this mightbe accomplished.
Florence, Marian and Lucile were plain, ordinary, normal girls, yet inone respect they were different from others; at least Lucile and Marianwere from the first, and Florence, being the strongest, most physicallycapable of them all, soon caught their spirit. They had about them acertain fearless outlook on life which is nearly always found in thosewho have spent many months in the far North--an attitude which seems tosay, "Adventure and Trouble, I have met you before. I welcome you andwill profit by and conquer you."
Two or three rather ordinary incidents in their life on board the O Mooprove that the life they lived there was, on the whole, a very simple,normal life, yet they also illustrate the indisputable fact that thesimplest matters in the world, the casting of a tin can off a boat forinstance, may be connected with some interesting and thrilling adventure.
As to that particular tin can, Marian bought it at a grocery store alongwith twenty-three other cans, filled with some unknown contents and soldat the ridiculously low price of eight cents per can. The reason that theprice was so low and the contents unknown was that the labels had, duringthe process of handling, been accidentally torn off. The cans had beensent on to the retailer and were sold in grab-bag lots of two dozen each.
"You see," the obliging grocer had explained, "there may be only corn orpeas in them. Very well, they are even then worth twelve cents a can atthe very least. But then again there may be blackberries in thick syrup,worth thirty or forty cents a can. Then what a bargain!"
"Well, girls," Marian exclaimed when she had finished telling of herbargain and they of exclaiming over it, "what shall we have for dinnerto-night? Loganberries in thick syrup or sliced pineapple?"
"Oh, pineapple by all means!" Florence exclaimed.
"Good enough for me," smiled Lucile.
"All right. Here goes." Marian stabbed one of the unknown quantities withthe can-opener, then applied her nose to the opening.
"Corn!" she exclaimed in disgust.
"Oh, well," consoled Florence, "we can eat corn once. Lucile doesn't carefor it, but she can have something else. Here's a bowl; pour it out inthat. Then open the loganberries. They'll do."
Again the can-opener fell. Again came the disgusted exclamation, "Corn!"
Lucile giggled and Florence danced a hornpipe of joy. "That's one on you,Marian, old dear," she shouted. "Oh, well, just give us plain peaches.They'll do."
"Here's one that has a real gurgly sound when you shake it," said Lucile,holding a can to her ear and shaking hard. "I think it's strawberries."
When Marian opened that can and had peered into it, she said never a wordbut, walking to the cabin door, pitched it, contents and all, over therail and down to the crusted snow twenty feet below. There it bouncedabout for a time, spilled its contents upon the ground, then lay quitestill, a new tin can glistening in the moonlight. But watch that can. Itis connected with some further adventure.
"Corn! Corn! Corn!" chanted Marian in a shrill voice breaking withlaughter. "And what a bargain."
"But look what I drew!" exclaimed Lucile, pointing to a can she had justopened.
"Pineapple! Sliced pineapple!" the others cheered in unison. Then thethree cans of corn were speedily forgiven. But the empty can lay blinkingin the moonlight all the same.
The other affair, which occurred a few days later, might have turned intoa rather serious matter had it not been for Lucile's alert mind.
Lucile had what she styled a "bug" for creating things. "If only," sheexclaimed again and again, "I could create something different fromanything that has been created before I know I should be supremely happy.If only I could write a real story that would get into print, or discoversome new chemical combination that would do things, that would beglorious."
From these words one is not long in concluding that Lucile wasspecializing in English and chemistry.
The yacht afforded her exceptional opportunities to pursue her study ofchemistry out of regular school hours, for Dr. Holmes, who devoted muchtime to delving into the mysteries of organic chemistry, had installed ina triangular space at the back of the cabin a perfectly equippedlaboratory. Here, during the days of the summer tour, he spent much ofhis time. This laboratory he turned over to Lucile, the only provisionbeing that she replace test-tubes, retorts and other instruments brokenduring the course of her experiments.
Here on many a stormy afternoon, and often long into the night, sheworked over a blue flame, concocting all manner of fluids and gases notrequired by the courses she was taking.
"If only I could create--_create_!" she whispered to herself over andover. "Memory work I hate. Imitation I like only because it tells me whathas been done and helps me to discover what has not been done. But tocreate--Oh--Oh!" She would at such times grip at her breast as if herheart were paining her at the very excitement of the thought.
On one particular afternoon, she did create something--in fact shecreated a great deal of excitement.
She had taken down a formula which Dr. Holmes had left in a notebook.
"Looks interesting," she whispered to herself. She had worked herself up,that day, to a feverish heat, to a point where she would dare anything.
As she read a closely written notation beneath the formula, her eyeswidened. "It is interesting," she exclaimed. "Tremendous! I'll make it.Wouldn't dare try it on anyone, though."
"Better have a gas mask," she told herself after a moment's thought.Digging about in a deep drawer she at last took out a strange canvas bagwith a windpipe-like attachment. This she hung upon a peg while sheselected the particular vials needed.
After that she drew the gas mask over her head and plunged into the work.
"Ten grains," she murmured; "a fluid ounce; three drams; three fluidounces; heat this in a beaker; add two drams--"
So she went on mumbling to herself in her excitement, like some witch ina play.
"Too bad! Too bad! Won't hold it," she mumbled at last, after waiting forher concoction to cool. "Won't go in one vial. Have to use two."
Having filled one thin glass vial and closed it with a glass-stopper, shewas in the act of filling the second when the half-filled vial slippedfrom her hand and went crashing to the tile floor.
"Oh! Help!" she uttered a muffled scream, and, before she realized whatshe was doing, threw the door leading into the main cabin wide open.Before her, regarding her in great astonishment, were Marian andFlorence. For a few seconds they stood there, then of a sudden they beganto act in the most startling manner. Jumping up and down, waving theirarms, laughing, screaming, they vaulted over tables, knocked chairsend-over-end and sent books and papers flying in every direction.
Having recovered her power of locomotion, Lucile dashed for the outerdoor. This she flung wide open. Then, watching her chance, she propelledher two delirious, dancing companions out into the open air.
There, for a moment, she was obliged to cling to them lest they throwthemselves over the rail, to go crashing to the frozen earth below.
In another moment it was all over. The two wild dancers collapsed,crumpling up in heaps on the deck.
"Oh, girls, I'm so sorry. I really truly am." Lucile's mortification wasquite complete, in spite of the fact that she was fairly bursting with adesire to laugh.
"What--what--made us do that?" Florence stammered weakly.
"Gas, a new gas," answered Lucile. Then, seeing the look of consternationon the girls' faces, she hastened to add, "It's perfectly harmless;doesn't attack the tissues; works on the motor nerves like laughing-gasonly it gets all the muscles excited, not just those of the face."
"Well, I'll say," remarked Marian, "you really created something."
"I only wish I had," said Lucile regretfully, "but that chances to be aformula worked out by Dr. Holmes. I merely mixed it up. The bottleslipped from my hand and smashed on the floor--I didn't aim to try it outon you."
After the cabin had been thoroughly aired, the three girls went back totheir work. As Lucile put the laboratory in order she noted the vialcontaining the remainder of the strange fluid. Having labeled it, "Quickaction gas," she put it away on the shelf, little dreaming that she wouldfind an unusual use for it later.
It was two weeks after Lucile's mysterious experience in the old Missionbuilding. Things had settled down to the humdrum life of hard work andfaithful study. On Saturday night two girls from the universitydormitories skated down the lagoon and walked down the beach to spend theevening at the "ship," as they called it.
They were jolly Western girls. The five of them spent a pleasant eveningpopping corn, pulling candy and relating amusing incidents from their ownlives. At eleven the visitors declared that they must go home.
"Wait, I'll go a piece with you," suggested Florence, reaching for herskates.
At the end of the lagoon the three put on their skates. Florence's wereon first, for she wore a boyish style which went on with a clamp.
Gliding out on the ice, she struck out in a wide circle, then returned tothe others. Just as they came gliding out to meet her, she fancied shecaught a movement in the branches of some shrubs at the left which grewdown to the edge of the ice. For a second her eyes rested there, then shewas obliged to turn about to join her companions.
It was a glorious night; the skating was wonderful. Keen air caressedtheir cheeks as they shot over the glistening surface to the tune ofringing steel. Little wonder she forgot the moving bushes in the joy ofthe moment.
Florence was a born athlete. Tipping the scale at one hundred and sixty,she carried not a superfluous ounce of fat. Four hours every day shespent on the gym floor or in the swimming pool. She was equipping herselffor the work of a physical culture teacher and took her task seriously.She believed that most girls could be as strong as boys if they willed tobe, and she proceeded to set a shining example.
It was on her return trip that she was reminded of the moving bushes.Catching the distant ring of skates, she saw a person dressed in a longcoat of some sort coming rapidly toward her.
The channel where they would meet was narrow. Some instinct told her toturn back, to circle the island and to reach the nearest point to theyacht that way. Whirling about, she set herself going rapidly in theother direction.
"Now that was a foolish thing to do," she told herself. "Probably someonesaving a long walk by putting on his skates, same as I'm doing. Mightembarrass him to have me turn about that way."
She was getting in some long, strong strokes now. There were few whocould gain on her when she chose to exert herself.
She rounded the point of the island with a swift curve, then wentskimming down the other side. Without further thought of the lone skater,she was nearing her goal and had gone into a long slide when, of a suddenthe clip-clip of skates again came to her ears. It was hardly necessaryfor her to turn about to make sure that the stranger in the long coat hadalso rounded the island.
For a second she glided on, uncertain what course to take. It was nearingmidnight. She was alone on the lagoon, a long way from any habitation. Astranger was following her; why, she could not tell. To throw off herskates and gain the bank before he came up was impossible. She decided,without being greatly alarmed about it, again to circle the island and,if necessary, take a spin the whole length of the lagoon.