Phyllis looked at the smiling faces about her in bewilderment. “But you all said—”
“What we said was said for your Aunt’s especial benefit,” Carol explained. “Remember I said we would have to use strategy in bringing your Aunt around to our way of thinking? She still doesn’t think as we do, but nevertheless we accomplished what we set out to do.”
“I don’t understand,” Phyllis murmured. “First you were going to Briarhurst, now you aren’t—”
“You see,” Carol went on obligingly, “last night when we were at your house Janet and I saw, in the mirror, your Aunt standing behind us in the doorway. She thought we hadn’t seen her and that is exactly what we wanted her to think. We put our plan into action then. We said what we did because we knew your Aunt was listening.”
Janet made a wry face. “We also knew how she felt about us going with you. She didn’t want to send you to the college we were going to.”
“So you said you were going to Stonecliff to make her change her mind about me,” Phyllis said happily. “Well, it worked. I’m off for Briarhurst the first week in September.”
“Miss Relso was telling me about the Omega Chi Sorority house at Briarhurst,” Gale put in, “and from what she says it will be wonderful if we could get into the sorority and live there. I’m going to write them tonight.”
“The Omega what?” Carol asked again. “Would it be safe to sleep in a house with that name?”
“The house isn’t called that,” Gale laughed. “That is the Greek name of the sorority.”
“Carol wouldn’t appreciate that,” Janet put in. “Well, are we going to play tennis or aren’t we?”
“We are!” declared Valerie and Madge in the same breath.
However, Gale at the last minute decided she didn’t want to play tennis. She walked up the hill to Phyllis’ home with her and there they talked for a while until Phyllis had to go in. Then Gale went slowly down to her home again.
She was seated on the porch, lazily swinging to and fro, watching night darken the world slowly and relentlessly when a tennis ball was thrown at her. It was aimed perfectly and hit her squarely but without hurting. She sat up with a jerk.
“Bruce Latimer! Come out of there!”
Bruce cautiously poked his head around the honeysuckle trellis and grinned.
“Top of the evenin’ to ye, my fine Miss.”
“Where did you get the brogue?” she demanded laughingly.
“Came over to see if you would care for a ride in the motor boat on this swell night.”
“I’d love it,” she declared. “Let’s go!”
“Ah, a girl of action,” Bruce laughed. “You astonish me. Take it easy,” he pleaded as Gale, bouncing his tennis ball ahead of her, ran before him to the street.
“Slow poke,” she teased.
If Bruce was, he belied the name then and did his best to retrieve his ball but Gale eluded him with the agility of long practice. When they arrived at the spot where Bruce’s boat was tied to the makeshift pier they were both breathless and laughing.
It took but a moment before they were in the boat with the motor putting amicably.
Bruce ran his boat to the edge of the bay, to the little inlet where the sea and the quiet inner waters joined. The waves rocked the little boat gently, the air was cool and the night star-studded.
“We better do something or I’ll fall asleep,” Gale declared. “It is too peaceful here. Isn’t the moonlight glorious?”
“Mmm.” Bruce started the motor.
“Let’s go to the island,” Gale proposed. “We will officially open it for the summer.”
The prow of the boat cut through the water like a giant knife sending a light spray back over the two occupants. Twice Bruce circled the bay, the thrill of speed and wind exciting them. Finally he drew up to the island and they went ashore.
Quite a while passed as they strolled along the beach. They sat for a time on a box that had been washed up on the shore by the waves and watched clouds slowly darken the moon. Wind whispered with increasing volume in the tops of the trees, occasionally an owl hooted from his post in the darkness.
Gale sighed audibly and thought of Brent far away in Washington. It was on such a night as this they had gone strolling in the garden at the Country Club. There would never be another night as wonderful as that, she was sure. If only Brent wasn’t so far away!
From Brent her thoughts went again to the college days that were so close. Only a little more than two months and she would be taking the train for Briarhurst. She had always dreamed of college some day, but it seemed unbelievable that those days should actually be here.
“We better go back, Gale, it looks like a storm,” Bruce’s voice recalled her to the present.
The moon was darkly hidden. Trees were swaying with the wind of a sudden approaching storm. In the east thunder rumbled heavily; a flash of lightning illuminated the dark waters of the bay.
“Righto!” Gale agreed immediately.
They set off swiftly, going through the thick growth of trees as a short cut to the opposite shore where they had left the motor boat. Progress was impeded somewhat by the brush and trees which were abundantly thick. In the midst of the woods there was an ear-splitting clap of thunder. A flash of flame and one of the giants of the forest tottered.
Bruce snatched Gale out of danger and they hovered trembling while the tree crashed safely to one side of them, its branches sweeping leaves and brush from its neighbors.
“That was close!” Bruce whistled expressively. “We’ve got to run for it, Gale.” He took her hand in his and they ran forward. “The island is no place to be caught in a thunderstorm—there are too many trees.”
They reached the shore just as the rain started coming down in torrents. They ran along the beach to where the motor boat had been.
“Gone!” Gale gasped.
The placid waters of the bay were now tossing waves stirred with the storm and current from the ocean. The motor boat had been drawn from the shore and was now afloat far out of reach.
“What’ll we do?” Gale wanted to know. “We can’t stay here. Suppose we use the canoe to get to shore.”
“We wouldn’t make it,” Bruce declared instantly. “The canoe would be capsized before we were half way across.”
Behind them trees creaked as they were bent in the force of the wind. The boy and girl were nearly swept from their feet as a sudden gust of wind and rain drenched them.
“I won’t stay here,” Gale said. “We might as well try to make it in the canoe as stay here and get drenched—besides being hit with a falling tree.”
“We couldn’t take the canoe over those waters,” Bruce said again. “Tell you what, you wait in the club house—I’ll take the canoe and try to reach the motor boat. I won’t have to go far, we can see it adrift out there, and it will be safer crossing in the motor boat.”
“If you go, I go,” Gale said stubbornly. “I’ll hold the canoe about while you climb onto the motor boat.”
Bruce started to argue but it was of no avail. Gale was quite firm in her determination to accompany him. Bruce brought the canoe down to the water’s edge and held it steady while Gale climbed into it. The canoe tossed about like a paper cup.
“We won’t make it,” Bruce said shaking his head. “We won’t even stay right side up until we reach the motor boat.”
“We can try,” Gale insisted. “Get in.”
Tremulously the two trusted the small, fragile boat to the fury of the bay waters. Waves rocked them, more than once the canoe hovered on the verge of going over. Their paddles were as naught against the black water. Neither spoke. Gale took an oar and between them they tried to steer the canoe to the dark outline of the motor boat. Every time they sent the boat forward a stroke the waves hurled them back. The struggle lasted scarcely any time at all. Like a paper bag the canoe crumpled, tossing them into the water.
Gale came to the surface spluttering in protest at the mout
hful of water she had swallowed. In the darkness she looked about for Bruce. He came up to the right of her.
“Make for the shore,” he cried. “The island!”
They had completely lost sight of the motor boat and the mainland was too far away to dream of swimming there. The waves tossed them about like playthings. Both were excellent swimmers but their training was lost in the swirl of the stormy waters. They were pitched ahead, dragged down, and finally tossed up on the shore weak and breathless.
“Castaways on a desert island!” Gale grumbled as they entered the club house. “I hope the place isn’t smashed under a tree.”
“I believe the thunder and lightning will let up in a little while,” Bruce declared, on his knees coaxing a flame into life in the dark fireplace.
“That feels good!” Gale shivered, holding her hands out to the blaze, after wrapping herself in a blanket. “How are we going to get home?”
“I don’t think we will—tonight,” Bruce said, frowning. “No one knows where we are for one thing. I’ll sleep in the canoe house on the cot tonight and you can have the bunk in here. Pleasant dreams!” and he was gone. He knew the struggle in the water had tired Gale and it was best to let her rest.
Gale listened to the whine of the wind and the slashing of rain against the frail walls of the club house and shivered. She was afraid, but she wouldn’t call Bruce. She remembered vividly the second when the earth had seemed torn apart when the tree was struck by lightning. Suppose one of the tall trees about the club house should fall? She and Bruce would be crushed by the weight of the walls and roof! Such thoughts were horrible and she endeavored to thrust them from her.
She was beginning to feel deliciously warm and cozy. Gale curled up on the bunk and watched the fire in the fireplace and listened to the rain. The rain was a lulling accompaniment to the crackling of the logs and before she knew it she was asleep.
Gale had no inkling of when the rain stopped. The next morning when she awakened and sat up the sun was streaming in through the open door and birds were chirping outside.
“Bruce!” Gale called, but there was no answer.
She looked into the adjoining canoe house, but it was empty. Outside she looked about. The beach was empty as far as she could see.
“Bruce!” she called again.
“Here!”
It was his voice right enough but she could not see him.
“Where are you?”
A twig fell at her feet and she looked up. Bruce was perched in the topmost branches of a sturdy tree. He had a vividly colored Indian blanket in his hand.
“What on earth—” Gale began in amazement.
“Going to be a hermit,” he laughed.
“What’s the idea?”
“People on the mainland,” he answered. “They are looking at something—I believe it is our motor boat—must be a wreck. I’ve been waving the blanket so they can see it and come and rescue us. I want my breakfast.”
Once more Bruce waved his gayly-colored flag, so furiously he nearly toppled from his perch.
“Do they see it?” Gale inquired anxiously.
“They won’t even look over this way,” he said.
“Keep trying,” she urged.
On the shore Carol and Janet with David and Peter were bending over the ruins of the canoe. Farther along the shore Janet called attention to Bruce’s motor boat lying on its side, half filled with water.
“Do you suppose—” Carol couldn’t finish her thought.
“What could have happened to them?” Janet murmured fearfully.
“If they were on the bay in the storm last night,” David said, “it is hard to tell what might have happened.”
“Both boats wrecked—it looks bad,” Peter commented.
“Poor Gale,” Carol whispered in a low voice. “And Bruce—”
Carol and Janet had called for Gale on their way to school that morning. Upon learning that Gale had not been home all night they were preparing to rush out and tell the other girls when they met Peter and David with news of the wrecked boat. They all came down to the shore to make sure it was Bruce’s boat. Their fears were confirmed and now they were at a loss what to do. People had been known to drown in the bay—especially during a storm like the one of last night.
David and Peter hauled the canoe farther up the beach.
“It is the one from the club house all right,” David declared. “I wonder how it got over here?”
“Look,” Carol murmured, “do you see something moving on the island?”
“You are seeing things,” Janet declared.
“I mean—look in that tree right opposite from us. I can just faintly see something—looks like a flag being waved.”
“Perhaps it is Gale and Bruce,” Janet said excitedly. “Get a boat. We’ll go over and find out.”
David departed to find a friend who could lend him a motor boat. The fifteen minutes it took him were interminable for those waiting.
When the boat put out from the mainland Bruce half slid, half climbed down from the tree and together he and Gale went down to the beach to await their rescuers.
THE ADVENTURE GIRLS AT HAPPINESS HOUSE, by Clair Blank
CHAPTER I
Briarhurst
With a final chug and screech of brakes the train slid to a halt before the two story frame building that did duty for a railway station in the little college town of Briarhurst.
A group of girls proceeded with much hilarity and little speed to transport themselves and their luggage from the railway coach to the station platform. From there they viewed the rusty bus that was to transport them up the hill to the college grounds.
“It will never hold all of us and our luggage,” Carol Carter declared with firm conviction. “Perhaps we had better walk.”
Janet Gordon looked at the dusty road winding up the hill behind the station and then at the bus. “You can walk,” she said. “I’ll take a chance on this antiquated vehicle.”
“Are you the six young ladies goin’ to Briarhurst?”
The girls turned to see a wizened old man approaching from the station. “If ye are, climb aboard. I’m the bus driver.”
“I’ll wager the bus is even older than he is,” Madge Reynolds murmured to Valerie Wallace.
“Will the contraption hold together?” Carol wanted to know.
“It’s been a-runnin’ for nigh onto twenty years and ain’t fell apart yet,” the driver said, climbing into his seat and waiting for the girls to get aboard.
“That isn’t saying it never will,” Phyllis Elton commented.
After much dickering the girls got into the bus, their luggage for the most part piled on the roof, and the ancient vehicle with its ancient driver started with a roar.
“It reminds me of a peanut roaster,” Carol murmured. “The way the radiator is steaming and the noise it makes.”
“Everything but the peanuts,” agreed Janet. “Which reminds me, I hope dinner is early.”
“Dinner is at seven,” the driver informed them conversationally.
The bus started the long tedious climb up the hillside and the driver settled back comfortably in his seat. He was in no hurry.
“I thought Briarhurst was a prosperous college,” Phyllis Elton said to Gale Howard, “wouldn’t you think they would have a more modern bus? This thing might scare new students.”
The driver frowned on her with all the disgust possible to his wrinkled features.
“Lizzie, here, has belonged to the college since she was new. She’s good enough for you yet. Even the new Dean can’t junk old Lizzie.” He patted the steering wheel with all the affection and prized possessiveness of a loving father.
“New Dean?” Gale questioned. “Isn’t Professor Harris the Dean any more?”
“Nope,” the driver said. “Professor Harris resigned an’ this new one come up here about three weeks ago. She’s been tryin’ to make changes we old ones don’t like.”
The girls exchang
ed glances. They had heard so much about Professor Harris and her rule at Briarhurst. The Dean had been much beloved by the girls. The prospect of a new régime at the college did not particularly appeal to them.
“What’s she like—the new Dean?” Janet asked interestedly.
“Young and purty,” the sour old man said grudgingly. “But she got no business tryin’ to change things that been goin’ on all right for thirty years. She won’t stay long,” he added darkly.
“Why won’t she stay?” Phyllis wanted to know.
“The old ones don’t like her,” he said firmly.
“By ‘the old ones’ I take it you mean the teachers and other members of the faculty,” Gale said.
“That’s right,” he agreed.
“What has she done to make them dislike her?” Janet inquired.
The man shook his head. “We don’t aim to make this a modern institooshun. She has newfangled notions about a new bus and sports for the young ladies. We old ones ain’t goin’ to stand for it,” he repeated firmly. Evidently he considered himself an important part of the college personnel.
“The idea about a new bus is enough to prejudice him,” Carol laughed to Janet. “Whoops!” She made a wild lunge for her handbag as the bus navigated a deep rut with a series of protesting groans from the framework. “However, it is enough to put me on her side. If she wants a new bus I am for the new Dean!”
The bus halted first in front of the registrar’s office and the girls were assigned to their prospective quarters. Because of crowded conditions only Phyllis and Gale were fortunate enough to win a room in the sorority house of Omega Chi, and this was only through the efforts of their former High School teacher. The other four girls were assigned to the dormitory house on the east lawn of the campus. At first the separation rather put a damper on their spirits.
“You might get into the sorority house next year,” consoled Phyllis.
“As it is,” Janet commented, “we will leave you two to face the dragons of the sorority by yourselves.”
The next stop of the bus was to let Gale and Phyllis off in front of the Omega Chi Sorority house. They surveyed their future home interestedly while standing in the midst of their baggage which the driver had dumped unceremoniously at their feet. The bus rattled away and the girls exchanged glances.
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 278