“Cramps,” yelled Hal to Harry and Bert, while all three hurried to where the man’s hand had been seen.
But it did not come up again.
“I’ll dive down!” spluttered Hal, who had the reputation of being able to stay a long time under water.
It seemed quite a while to Bert and Harry before Hal came up again, but when he did he was trying to pull with him a big, fat man, who was all but unconscious.
“Can’t move,” gasped Hal, as the heavy burden was pulling him down.
Bit by bit the man with cramps gained a little strength, and with the boys’ help he was towed in to shore.
There was not a life-guard in sight, and Hal had to hurry off to the pier for some restoratives, for the man was very weak. On his way, Hal met a guard who, of course, ran to the spot where Harry and Bert were giving the man artificial respiration.
“You boys did well!” declared the guard, promptly, seeing how hard they worked with the sick man.
“Yes—they saved—my life!” gasped the half-drowned man. “This little fellow”—pointing to Hal—“brought—me up—almost—from—the bottom!” and he caught his breath, painfully.
The man was assisted to a room at the end of the pier, and after a little while he became much better. Of course the boys did not stand around, being satisfied they could be of no more use.
“I must get those lads’ names,” declared the man to the guard. “Mine is ——,” and he gave the name of the famous millionaire who had a magnificent summer home in another colony, three miles away.
“And you swam from the Cedars, Mr. Black,” exclaimed the guard. “No wonder you got cramps.”
An hour later the millionaire was walking the beach looking for the life-savers. He finally spied Hal.
“Here, there, you boy,” he called, and Hal came in to the edge, but hardly recognized the man in street clothes.
“I want your name,” demanded the stranger. “Do you know there are medals given to young heroes like you?”
“Oh, that was nothing,” stammered Hal, quite confused now.
“Nothing! Why, I was about dead, and pulled on you with all my two hundred pounds. You knew, too, you had hardly a chance to bring me up. Yes, indeed, I want your name,” and as he insisted, Hal reluctantly gave it, but felt quite foolish to make such a fuss “over nothing,” as he said.
It was now about time for the excursion train to come in, so the boys left the water and prepared to meet their old friends.
“I hope Jack Hopkins comes,” said Bert, for Jack was a great friend.
“Oh, he will be along,” Harry remarked. “Nobody likes a good time better than Jack.”
“Here they come!” announced Hal, the next minute, as a crowd of children with many lunch boxes came running down to the ocean.
“Hello there! Hello there!” called everybody at once, for, of course, all the children knew Harry and many also knew Bert.
There were Tom Mason, Jack Hopkins, August Stout, and Ned Prentice in the first crowd, while a number of girls, friends of Nan’s, were in another group. Nan, Nellie, and Dorothy had been detained by somebody further up on the road, but were now coming down, slowly.
Such a delight as the ocean was to the country children!
As each roller slipped out on the sands the children unconsciously followed it, and so, many unsuspected pairs of shoes were caught by the next wave that washed in.
“Well, here comes Uncle Daniel!” called Bert, as, sure enough, down to the edge came Uncle Daniel with Dorothy holding on one arm, Nan clinging to the other, while Nellie carried his small satchel.
Santa Claus could hardly have been more welcome to the Bobbseys at that moment than was Uncle Daniel. They simply overpowered him, as the surprise of his coming made the treat so much better. The girls had “dragged him” down to the ocean, he said, when he had intended first going to Aunt Emily’s.
“I must see the others,” he insisted; “Freddie and Flossie.”
“Oh, they are all coming down,” Nan assured him. “Aunt Sarah, too, is coming.”
“All right, then,” agreed Uncle Daniel. “I’ll wait awhile. Well, Harry, you look like an Indian. Can you see through that coat of tan?”
Harry laughed and said he had been an Indian in having a good time.
Presently somebody jumped up on Uncle Daniel’s back. As he was sitting on the sands the shock almost brought him down. Of course it was Freddie, who was so overjoyed he really treated the good-natured uncle a little roughly.
“Freddie boy! Freddie boy!” exclaimed Uncle Daniel, giving his nephew a good long hug. “And you have turned Indian, too! Where’s that sea-serpent you were going to catch for me?”
“I’ll get him yet,” declared the little fellow. “It hasn’t rained hardly since we came down, and they only come in to land out of the rain.”
This explanation made Uncle Daniel laugh heartily. The whole family sat around on the sands, and it was like being in the country and at the seashore at the one time, Flossie declared.
The boys, of course, were in the water. August Stout had not learned much about swimming since he fell off the plank while fishing in Meadow Brook, so that out in the waves the other boys had great fun with their fat friend.
“And there is Nettie Prentice!” exclaimed Nan, suddenly, as she espied her little country friend looking through the crowd, evidently searching for friends.
“Oh, Nan!” called Nettie, in delight, “I’m just as glad to see you as I am to see the ocean, and I never saw that before,” and the two little girls exchanged greetings of genuine love for each other.
“Won’t we have a perfectly splendid time?” declared Nan. “Dorothy, my cousin, is so jolly, and here’s Nellie—you remember her?”
Of course Nettie did remember her, and now all the little girls went around hunting for fun in every possible corner where fun might be hidden.
As soon as the boys were satisfied with their bath they went in search of the big sun umbrellas, so that Uncle William, Aunt Emily, Mrs. Bobbsey, and Aunt Sarah might sit under the sunshades, while eating lunch. Then the boys got long boards and arranged them from bench to bench in picnic style, so that all the Meadow Brook friends might have a pleasant time eating their box lunches.
“Let’s make lemonade,” suggested Hal. “I know where I can get a pail of nice clean water.”
“I’ll buy the lemons,” offered Harry.
“I’ll look after sugar,” put in Bert.
“And I’ll do the mixing,” declared August Stout, while all set to work to produce the wonderful picnic lemonade.
“Now, don’t go putting in white sand instead of sugar,” teased Uncle Daniel, as the “caterers,” with sleeves rolled up, worked hard over the lemonade.
“What can we use for cups?” asked Nan.
“Oh, I know,” said Harry, “over at the Indian stand they have a lot of gourds, the kind of mock oranges that Mexicans drink out of. I can buy them for five cents each, and after the picnic we can bring them home and hang them up for souvenirs.”
“Just the thing!” declared Hal, who had a great regard for things that hang up and look like curios. “I’ll go along and help you make the bargain.”
When the boys came back they had a dozen of the funny drinking cups.
The long crooked handles were so odd that each person tried to get the cup to his or her mouth in a different way.
“We stopped at the hydrant and washed the gourds thoroughly,” declared Hal, “so you need not expect to find any Mexican diamonds in them.”
“Or tarantulas,” put in Uncle Daniel.
“What’s them?” asked Freddie, with an ear for anything that sounded like a menagerie.
“A very bad kind of spider, that sometimes comes in fruit from other countries,” explained Uncle Daniel. Then Nan filled his gourd from the dipper that stood in the big pail of lemonade, and he smacked his lips in appreciation.
There was so much to do and so much to see that
the few hours allowed the excursionists slipped by all too quickly. Dorothy ran away and soon returned with her donkey cart, to take Nettie Prentice and a few of Nettie’s friends for a ride along the beach. Nan and Nellie did not go, preferring to give the treat to the little country girls.
“Now don’t go far,” directed Aunt Emily, for Aunt Sarah and Uncle Daniel were already leaving the beach to make ready for the train. Of course Harry and Aunt Sarah were all “packed up” and had very little to do at Aunt Emily’s before starting.
Hal and Bert were sorry, indeed, to have Harry go, for Harry was such a good leader in outdoor sports, his country training always standing by him in emergencies.
Finally Dorothy came back with the girls from their ride, and the people were beginning to crowd into the long line of cars that waited on a switch near the station.
“Now, Nettie, be sure to write to me,” said Nan, bidding her little friend good-by.
“And come down next year,” insisted Dorothy.
“I had such a lovely time,” declared Nettie. “I’m sure I will come again if I can.”
The Meadow Brook Bobbseys had secured good seats in the middle car,—Aunt Sarah thought that the safest,—and now the locomotive whistle was tooting, calling the few stragglers who insisted on waiting at the beach until the very last minute.
Freddie wanted to cry when he realized that Uncle Daniel, Aunt Sarah, and even Harry were going away, but with the promises of meeting again Christmas, and possibly Thanksgiving, all the good-bys were said, and the excursion train puffed out on its long trip to dear old Meadow Brook, and beyond.
CHAPTER XVIII
The Storm
When Uncle William Minturn came in from the city that evening he had some mysterious news. Everybody guessed it was about Nellie, but as surprises were always cropping up at Ocean Cliff, the news was kept secret and the whispering increased.
“I had hard work to get her to come,” said Uncle William to Mrs. Bobbsey, still guarding the mystery, “but I finally prevailed upon her and she will be down on the morning train.”
“Poor woman, I am sure it will do her good,” remarked Mrs. Bobbsey. “Your house has been a regular hotel this summer,” she said to Mr. Minturn.
“That’s what we are here for,” he replied. “We would not have much pleasure, I am sure, if our friends were not around us.”
“Did you hear anything more about the last vessel?” asked Aunt Emily.
“Yes, I went down to the general office today, and an incoming steamer was sure it was the West Indies vessel that was sighted four days ago.”
“Then they should be near port now?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“They ought to be,” replied Uncle William, “but the cargo is so heavy, and the schooner such a very slow sailer, that it takes a long time to cover the distance.”
Next morning, bright and early, Dorothy had the donkeys in harness.
“We are going to the station to meet some friends, Nellie,” she said. “Come along?”
“What! More company?” exclaimed Nellie. “I really ought to go home. I am well and strong now.”
“Indeed you can’t go until we let you,” said Dorothy, laughing. “I suppose you think all the fun went with Harry,” she added, teasingly, for Dorothy knew Nellie had been acting lonely ever since the carnival. She was surely homesick to see her mother and talk about the big prize.
The two girls had not long to wait at the station, for the train pulled in just as they reached the platform. Dorothy looked about a little uneasily.
“We must watch for a lady in a linen suit with black hat,” she said to Nellie; “she’s a stranger.”
That very minute the linen suit appeared.
“Oh, oh!” screamed Nellie, unable to get her words. “There is my mother!” and the next thing Dorothy knew, Nellie was trying to “wear the same linen dress” that the stranger appeared in—at least, that was how Dorothy afterwards told about Nellie’s meeting with her mother.
“My daughter!” exclaimed the lady, “I have been so lonely I came to bring you home.”
“And this is Dorothy,” said Nellie, recovering herself. “Dorothy is my best friend, next to Nan.”
“You have surely been among good friends,” declared the mother, “for you have gotten the roses back in your cheeks again. How well you do look!”
“Oh, I’ve had a perfectly fine time,” declared Nellie.
“Fine and dandy,” repeated Dorothy, unable to restrain her fun-making spirit.
At a glance Dorothy saw why Nellie, although poor, was so genteel, for her mother was one of those fine-featured women that seem especially fitted to say gentle things to children.
Mrs. McLaughlin was not old,—no older than Nan’s mother,—and she had that wonderful wealth of brown hair, just like Nellie’s. Her eyes were brown, too, while Nellie’s were blue, but otherwise Nellie was much like her mother, so people said.
Aunt Emily and Mrs. Bobbsey had visited Mrs. McLaughlin in the city, so that they were quite well acquainted when the donkey cart drove up, and they all had a laugh over the surprise to Nellie. Of course that was Uncle William’s secret, and the mystery of the whispering the evening before.
“But we must go back on the afternoon train,” insisted Mrs. McLaughlin, who had really only come down to the shore to bring Nellie home.
“Indeed, no,” objected Aunt Emily, “that would be too much traveling in one day. You may go early in the morning.”
“Everybody is going home,” sighed Dorothy. “I suppose you will be the next to go, Nan,” and she looked quite lonely at the prospect.
“We are going to have a big storm,” declared Susan, who had just come in from the village. “We have had a long dry spell, now we are going to make up for it.”
“Dear me,” sighed Mrs. McLaughlin, “I wish we had started for home.”
“Oh, there’s lots of fun here in a storm,” laughed Dorothy. “The ocean always tries to lick up the whole place, but it has to be satisfied with pulling down pavilions and piers. Last year the water really went higher than the gas lights along the boulevard.”
“Then that must mean an awful storm at sea,” reflected Nellie’s mother. “Storms are bad enough on land, but at sea they must be dreadful!” And she looked out toward the wild ocean, that was keeping from her the fate of her husband.
Long before there were close signs of storm, life-guards, on the beach, were preparing for it. They were making fast everything that could be secured and at the life-saving station all possible preparations were being made to help those who might suffer from the storm.
It was nearing September and a tidal wave had swept over the southern ports. Coming in all the way from the tropics the storm had made itself felt over a great part of the world, in some places taking the shape of a hurricane.
On this particular afternoon, while the sun still shone brightly over Sunset Beach, the storm was creeping in under the big waves that dashed up on the sands.
“It is not safe to let go the ropes,” the guards told the people, but the idea of a storm, from such a pretty sky, made some daring enough to disobey these orders. The result was that the guards were kept busy trying to bring girls and women to their feet, who were being dashed around by the excited waves.
This work occupied the entire afternoon, and as soon as the crowd left the beach the life-guards brought the boats down to the edge, got their lines ready, and when dark came on, they were prepared for the life-patrol,—the long dreary watch of the night, so near the noisy waves, and so far from the voice of distress that might call over the breakers to the safe shores, where the life-savers waited, watched, and listened.
The rain began to fall before it was entirely dark. The lurid sunset, glaring through the dark and rain, gave an awful, yellow look to the land and sea alike.
“It is like the end of the world,” whispered Nellie to Nan, as the two girls looked out of the window to see the wild storm approaching.
Then
the lightning came in blazing blades, cutting through the gathering clouds.
The thunder was only like muffled rolls, for the fury of the ocean deadened every other sound of heaven or earth.
“It will be a dreadful storm,” said Aunt Emily to Mrs. Bobbsey. “We must all go into the sitting room and pray for the sailors.”
Everyone in the house assembled in the large sitting room, and Uncle William led the prayers. Poor Mrs. McLaughlin did not once raise her head. Nellie, too, hid her pale face in her hands.
Dorothy was frightened, and when all were saying good-night she pressed a kiss on Nellie’s cheek, and told her that the life-savers on Sunset Beach would surely be able to save all the sailors that came that way during the big storm.
Nellie and her mother occupied the same room. Of course the mother had been told that the long delayed boat had been sighted, and now, how anxiously she awaited more news of Nellie’s father.
“We must not worry,” she told Nellie, “for who knows but the storm may really help father’s boat to get into port?”
So, while the waves lashed furiously upon Sunset Beach, all the people in the Minturn cottage were sleeping, or trying to sleep, for, indeed, it was not easy to rest when there was so much danger at their very door.
CHAPTER XIX
Life-Savers
“Mother, mother!” called Nellie, “look down at the beach. The life-guards are burning the red signal lights! They have found a wreck!”
It was almost morning, but the black storm clouds held the daylight back. Mrs. McLaughlin and her little daughter strained their eyes to see, if possible, what might be going on down at the beach. While there was no noise to give the alarm, it seemed, almost everybody in that house felt the presence of the wreck, for in a very few minutes, Bert was at his window, Dorothy and Nan were looking out of theirs, while the older members of the household were dressing hastily, to see if they might be of any help in case of accident at the beach.
“Can I go with you, Uncle?” called Bert, who had heard his uncle getting ready to run down to the water’s edge.
“Yes, come along,” answered Mr. Minturn, and as day began to peep through the heavy clouds, the two hurried down to the spot where the life-guards were burning their red light to tell the sailors their signal had been seen.
The Bobbsey Twins Megapack Page 33