Abbott, Jane - Keineth

by Keineth(Lit)

  go out to meet the other matches life offers!"

  "You can just bet I'll always try to play square! And I'm going now to

  find Ken and tell her she's a brick!"

  Mr. Lee watched the boy disappear. Though a smile hovered about his

  lips, his eyes were serious--the cigar between his fingers had quite

  gone out.

  "May he keep that spirit all through life," he was thinking.

  CHAPTER XV

  NOT ON THE PROGRAM!

  Keineth, a little tired after the strain of the tennis match, thought

  it much more fun to watch the others. Billy had gone into the paddling

  races, and no one but Mr. Lee and Keineth knew that it was because

  Keineth had begged him--and he had won and Keineth had been the first

  to examine the wrist watch he had received as an award. And on Friday

  the entire family waited eagerly near the eighteenth green of the golf

  course for Barbara and Carol Day to play up in the final game for the

  golf championship!

  Keineth and Peggy held hands tightly in their excitement.

  "Oh, I can tell by Barb's walk she's ahead," Peggy cried as the two

  players, their caddies and a small gallery, appeared around the corner

  of the wood that screened the seventeenth green.

  "She was two down at the turn and Carol was playing par golf," someone

  volunteered. "What does down at the turn mean?" whispered Keineth.

  "The turn's at the end of the ninth hole and a-l-a-s, down means Barb

  was behind. Pooh, she always plays better when she's down!"

  A man had just returned from the fifteenth tee.

  "They were dormie at the sixteenth," the girls heard him say.

  "What _queer_ words they do use in golf! I thought dormie was a

  window!"

  "Oh, Ken," giggled Peggy, "you mean dormer and it's dormie when one

  player is just as many holes ahead as there are more holes to play.

  Good gracious!" her face fell, "that means that Barbara will _have_ to

  win these three holes and she always slices on the eighteenth!"

  "She won't this time, Peggy! That girl's like steel in a match!" a man

  nearby broke in.

  "She's driving first!" Billy cried. "Oh, look--look--look! P-e-ach-y!"

  Breathlessly they watched the two players advance toward the green.

  Barbara had outdriven her opponent but she topped her second. Carol

  Day, playing a brassie, put her ball well up. Barbara recovered on her

  third shot, carried the bunker which guarded the green twenty yards

  from it, and laid her ball on the edge of the green. Carol's third

  caught the top of the bunker, shot into the air and dropped back into

  the sand pit!

  "Oh-h!" breathed Peggy delightedly into Keineth's ear. She knew it was

  the worst bunker on the course.

  But difficulties only made Carol Day play the better. She studied the

  shot for several moments while Barbara and the gallery watched with

  tense interest. Then they saw her lift her niblick slowly, her head

  bent; a cloud of sand raised, the ball cleared the bunker's top,

  dropped upon the green, rolled a few feet and rested within an easy

  putt of the cup!

  The gallery applauded. It was a splendid shot, one of the kind that

  ought to win a match for its player. Even Keineth cried out in generous

  praise of the play.

  Peggy gripped Keineth's hand so hard that it hurt.

  "Steady, steady, there, Barb," Mr. Lee muttered. Barbara walked slowly

  to her ball. Her eyes were lowered, she did not glance at the familiar

  faces about the green. Her next shot demanded the utmost skill, care

  and steadiness she could command. Of them all she was the coolest. She

  _must_ run down her putt to win the match!

  Peggy suddenly shut her eyes that she could not see what happened. The

  others saw Barbara, with an easy movement, line her putt. The ball

  rolled slowly over the clipped turf, dead straight to the hole--closer,

  closer, hung for one fraction of a second on the rim of the cup and

  then with a thud that was like music, dropped in! Barbara was the

  champion of the women players of the club!

  "Why, it almost made me sick." Peggy confided to Keineth afterwards. "I

  will be a wreck when this week is over! And oh, if I can only win the

  life-saving medal to-morrow! Think of it, four prizes in the Lee

  family! There will be no living with us. I don't care a straw for the

  cups they give--it's that little bit of a bronze medal I want There's

  going to be a man here from Washington to give it to the winner--one of

  the Volunteer Life-saving Association. And that medal's _got_ to go

  right here," and defiantly she struck her hand against her breast.

  "I just can't wait," Keineth sighed in a tragic manner.

  "The last day is most fun of all," Peggy explained.

  "How can we ever settle down into calm living?"

  "Huh--fast enough! I've got to begin reviewing English. I have a

  condition to make up."

  "And I want to work on my music," cried Keineth, suddenly

  conscience-smitten.

  "Mother says that to-morrow night we'll wind up with a supper on the

  beach. It's lots jollier than the dinner dance at the Club and we're

  too young to go to that, anyway. Barb could go if she wanted to, but

  she'd rather have the fun at the beach. We fry bacon and roast corn and

  mother makes cocoa and then we sing. Oh, dear, won't it be awful to

  grow old and not do those things?"

  Together they sighed mightily at such a prospect!

  For the last day of the Sports Week there was a program of fun that

  began immediately after breakfast and lasted through the day. All the

  club members gathered on the beach where gaily-decorated booths had

  been built. From these lemonade and sandwiches were served

  continuously. The motor boats, canoes and skiffs, their flags flying,

  made bright splashes of color against the green water. Stakes, topped

  with flags, marked the course for the swimming races. The judges were

  taken out on one of the larger motor boats.

  Keineth had never seen anything quite like it. To her it seemed like a

  chapter from some story and a story strange and exciting!

  The committee had arranged games and races for the very little

  youngsters so that during the morning the beach front was astir with

  them--bright-eyed, bobbed-haired, starched little girls and tanned,

  bare-legged boys, trying vainly to elude the watchful care of the

  mothers and nurse-girls, who made a background for the pretty scene.

  The life-saving contest followed the swimming races. Four others

  besides Peggy had entered: Molly Sawyer, Helen Downer, Mary Freeman and

  Gladys Day.

  Keineth had never watched a contest of this sort before. She cried out

  in alarm when she saw a man, fully dressed, at a signal totter off the

  deck of the judges' motor boat. Someone next to her laughed.

  "That's just pretend--he's an expert swimmer! It's Mary Freeman's turn!

  Watch her!"

  Keineth saw Mary detach herself from a small group, rush into the water

  tearing off her blouse as she did so. Then something went wrong--Mary

  seemed to make no headway toward the man, the judges blew a whistle,

  the man who had jumped overboard climb
ed back into the boat; there was

  some laughter which others quickly frowned down.

  Peggy had drawn last place in the contest. When Keineth saw the others

  fail, one after another, she glanced at Peggy with nervous anxiety. But

  Peggy stood, outwardly calm, the picture of confidence, her eyes

  fastened upon the judges' boat, waiting for her signal.

  Another man fell overboard; to Keineth he looked like a giant! She saw

  Peggy spring forward--in a flash her blouse was off and she had thrown

  it backward over her head. She was swimming and Keineth knew that as

  she swam she was unbuttoning and kicking off her shoes and her skirt.

  An encouraging shout went up as she moved rapidly forward, her head

  under water, first one straight, strong arm, then the other, shooting

  out and ahead!

  Off at a little distance the judges' boat was chugging. From the beach

  the spectators, breathless, could see a struggle in the water. Then,

  where for a moment there had been nothing visible, they saw Peggy's

  head; saw her making for shore swimming on her back with strong leg

  strokes, one arm encircling the man's head, her grip holding his chin

  and nostrils out of water and pinioning his arms so that his struggles

  could not drag her down.

  A shout went up from the beach front--louder and louder; the motor

  boats blew their sirens. Keineth ran to the water's edge that she might

  be the first to greet the proud young swimmer.

  Willing hands helped Peggy pull the rescued man upon the sand where,

  the water dripping from her shoulders, Peggy gave "first aid." After

  several moments, marked by a big, sunburned man whom Keineth learned

  afterwards was the man from Washington, the victim was pronounced

  saved, rose to his feet and was the first to shake Peggy's hand!

  "Why, it was so real that it seemed awful funny to see him just get up

  like that," Keineth giggled afterwards, when she had a moment alone

  with her Peggy.

  "Well--it wasn't any easy thing to bring him in! Why, he struggled just

  as much as though he was really drowning! But, oh, Ken--Ken, I've won

  my medal!"

  Later the children went back to the house to prepare the picnic. They

  trooped up the rood, an excited group; Keineth and Peggy in advance.

  As they came nearer to Overlook a strange sight met their eyes. They

  stopped short.

  For there on the gravel drive, its high-powered engine snorting and

  puffing, a rigid, uniformed figure at the wheel, stood Aunt Josephine's

  bright yellow car!

  CHAPTER XVI

  AUNT JOSEPHINE

  "It's Aunt Josephine!" cried Keineth.

  "Oh, dear, she'll spoil the fun!"

  Keineth wished the ground would open wide and swallow her up, so deep

  was her dismay. Never in her life had she so hated that yellow monster

  and Kingston's rigid back! And yes, the black-robed figure in the back

  _was_ Celeste!

  "Oh, dear," echoed Alice.

  "Maybe she has some word from father." The thought lent wings to

  Keineth's feet--she flew over the ground, Peggy following closely, a

  most curious sight for Aunt Josephine's eyes, with her wet bathing-suit

  and her blue and white bathrobe flying out behind!

  No, Aunt Josephine had no news of Keineth's father! She was on a motor

  trip and had stopped at Fairview. She was quite the same Aunt

  Josephine, beautifully gowned in a linen dress whose trimmings matched

  the stylish little hat she wore on her head. She rose from the wicker

  chair on the veranda, where she sat with Mrs. Lee, to greet the

  children. Keineth felt her critical glance wander from her to the

  others even while she was answering her aunt's questions.

  Mrs. Lee read the consternation behind the children's polite greetings,

  for in her sweet voice she broke in:

  "I have been asking Mrs. Winthrop to join us to-night in our beach

  frolic--you girlies must urge her!"

  "Oh, please do!" they cried together.

  Aunt Josephine did not seem to hear them. She was looking very hard at

  Keineth. "She does look well," she admitted; "I suppose the quiet life

  here has been good for her." She spoke directly to Keineth and the

  child felt in her tone the mild disapproval she knew so well. "I am on

  my way through to the Yellowstone, child. I thought, perhaps, I might

  pick you up and take you along, but you are so freckled that you are a

  sight!" Then, as though she recalled the beach supper and the

  children's invitation, she added, apologetically, "It is very kind, but

  I am a little out of the habit of such things!"

  "Hateful thing--how can she be Ken's aunt!" Peggy was thinking

  resentfully, for she had seen a hurt look creep into Keineth's eyes.

  Mrs. Lee's face wore its most cordial smile. She laid her hand upon

  Aunt Josephine's arm.

  "That's just why I like to go to picnics and things--it _is_ easy to

  get out of the habit of fun! Do send your man away and join us! It will

  be a great treat to know our Keineth's aunt a little better."

  Now what neither Keineth nor Peggy, nor even Mrs. Lee could guess was

  that beneath the folds of expensive linen and lace and dainty pleatings

  of rose silk was a heart that was just hungry because--years and years

  before--it had forgotten "how to have fun!" The happy faces of the

  children, freckled though they were, the simplicity of the pretty home,

  the flowers blooming so riotously and gaily all about, the light that

  lay deep in Mrs. Lee's eyes roused a longing very strange to Aunt

  Josephine! Perhaps if she had had youngsters of her own she might never

  have been the kind of an Aunt Josephine she was--tyrannized over by a

  Fido and a Celeste and a Kingston!

  "I will come," Aunt Josephine decided so suddenly that they were

  startled. "Keineth, dear, please tell Celeste to come to me."

  Celeste was instructed to unpack a warm coat and to bring a robe. Then

  she and Kingston were told that they might drive back to town, to

  return later for Mrs. Winthrop.

  Mrs. Lee carried Aunt Josephine off to the tiny guest room while the

  children flew toward the pantry to make ready the picnic baskets.

  Vaguely Keineth felt worried, as though, in some way or other, she was

  to blame for this unwelcome addition to the party. But Peggy, joining

  them in middy blouse and bloomers, reassured her in an excited whisper.

  "It'll be such fun just to see how she'll act! Oh, I do wish that funny

  maid and that awful leather-man were going, too! Do you suppose she can

  _ever_ eat a bacon sandwich without a fork?"

  But Aunt Josephine _did_ eat one without a fork and then ate another.

  She sat on a rock, her pretty linen all crumpled and mussed, a great

  deal of sand in her shoes, and balanced a paper plate on her lap and

  laughed, a rippling jolly laugh that Keineth had never heard before.

  She made Keineth and Peggy sit one on each side of her and tell her of

  all they had done during the summer.

  When the last marshmallow had been toasted and the pans scoured and put

  away in the baskets, the picnickers gathered about the dying bonfires

  for a "sing-song." This always included all
the songs they loved best,

  the songs Mr. and Mrs. Lee had known in their youth and the songs of

  the present day. And Aunt Josephine's rich contralto rang above the

  others.

  "Why, I haven't sung like this since I can remember," she laughed. The

  children were just finishing, "There's a long, long trail a-winding,

  into the land o' my dreams!"

  In the dim light Keineth was studying her aunt's face. Perhaps she had

  often been unkind in her thoughts; she might have known that Aunt

  Josephine must be very, very nice or she couldn't have been her

  father's sister! She slipped her hand into her aunt's and felt a warm

  pressure return her clasp.

  When Mrs. Lee began "This is the End of a Perfect Day" the children

  knew that the fun was over. They were glad to go home, for it had been

  a strenuous and exciting week.

  When the good-nights were said Aunt Josephine drew Keineth toward her.

  "May I keep her up a little longer--I would like to have a little

  talk."

  A dread seized Keineth's heart, for she recalled her aunt's words

  concerning the Yellowstone. She might have to go with Aunt Josephine

  and Celeste and Kingston, after all.

  Aunt Josephine sat down by the lamp, very straight, the way she always

  sat when she had something important on her mind. Mrs. Lee sank back

  among the pillows on the divan and Mr. Lee pulled his chair closer to