CHAPTER XVI
CLAM CHOWDER AND SALT AIR
Connie was right, gloriously right. It was clam chowder--the kind of clamchowder one dreams about--come true. Uncle Tom had made it just that veryafternoon and had brought it over in a huge bucket that was always usedfor such occasions.
The girls ate and ate and ate and then ate some more until they werecompletely satisfied with life and were feeling contented andbeautifully, wonderfully drowsy.
Connie's mother had served them other things beside clam chowder. Therewere pork chops and apple sauce, there were muffins and honey and applepie, and when they had finished, the once full table looked as if a swarmof locusts had been at it.
And all the time Connie's mother had watched them with wide, delightedeyes and Connie's father had lounged back in his chair, smoking a cigarand looking on with an indulgent smile.
Mr. Danvers, with the aid of a couple of men from the dock, had got thegirls' trunks up to the house and into the rooms they were going tooccupy for the summer.
And now, having done his duty, he had sauntered into the dining room toget acquainted with the girls and smoke a cigar. He and Mrs. Danvers hadhad their dinner earlier, because, as Mrs. Danvers laughingly explained,"she had been famished and could not wait," so that now there was nothingto do but watch the girls enjoy themselves.
The dining room was like all the other rooms in the cottage, cheerful andcozy and tastefully furnished, and as the girls looked about them happilythey felt that they must have known the house and its owners all theirlives.
Mr. Danvers was many years older than his wife, and he looked even olderthan he was. But he was a handsome man, and the touch of gray in the hairat his temples only made him look more distinguished. He adored his wife,and his eyes followed her wherever she went.
"As if any one could blame him for that," thought Billie, as Mrs. Danversslipped a second piece of apple pie on her plate.
"My gracious! do you expect me to eat a second piece of pie?" criedBillie, glancing up at Mrs. Danvers, with a smile.
"A second piece of pie isn't very much for a young girl with a healthyappetite," returned the lady of the bungalow.
"You give her too much pie, and she'll be dreaming of all sorts ofthings," remonstrated Vi.
"Why, Vi! To talk that way when you are eating a second piece yourself!"broke in Laura.
"If we dream, perhaps we'll all dream together, so what's thedifference?" remarked Billie; and at this there was a laugh in which evenMr. Danvers joined.
After dinner Connie's mother sent them up to their rooms, saying that sheknew they must be tired to death and should go to bed early so they couldget up to see the sun rise the next morning.
They did not protest very much, for they were tired and the prospect ofbed was very alluring. To-morrow--well, to-morrow they would goexploring. Perhaps they might even be permitted to visit the lighthouseand Uncle Tom. Speaking of Uncle Tom made Billie think of the clamchowder, and although she could not have eaten another scrap if she hadtried, her mouth watered at the memory.
The girls left the connecting door open between the two rooms so thatthey could talk to each other if they wanted to, but they did not do verymuch talking that night.
"Oh, this feels good," sighed Billie, as Connie turned down the coversand she crawled thankfully into bed. "I didn't know I was so awfullytired. And that dinner! Connie, does your mother always serve dinnerslike that?"
"Yes," said Connie, flinging her thick braid over her shoulder andcrossing the room to turn out the light. "Mother's an awfully good cook,and although we have a maid to do the heavy work Mother does all thecooking herself."
"Well," said Billie, snuggling down under the covers luxuriously asConnie joined her, "I'm mighty glad I came."
"Even if we don't solve any mysteries?" asked Connie, a trifle wistfully.
Billie turned over and tried to see her face, a thing impossible, ofcourse, in the dark.
"What a foolish thing to say," she cried. "I'll shake you, ConnieDanvers, if you ever say a thing like that again. We could have stayed atThree Towers if we had wanted to solve mysteries more than we wanted tocome here, couldn't we?"
"Y--yes," said Connie doubtfully. "Only, of course, we didn't knowanything about the mystery when I asked you to come here. So you couldn'thave backed out very well, even if you had wanted to."
Billie turned over impatiently and caught Connie by the shoulder.
"Connie Danvers!" she cried, "now I know you want to be shaken. Are youreally trying to say that we didn't want to come with you and only did itto please you?"
"No," said Connie, with a shake of her head. "Of course I didn't meanjust that. Just the same," she added longingly, "I am awfully anxious tofind out about Miss Arbuckle and her album and--that strangeman--everything."
It was then that a horrible thought struck Billie, and it was so horriblethat it sat her straight up in bed.
"Connie--I just thought--could it--were you sorry you asked us to come?"she stammered. "Would you rather have stayed at Three Towers yourself?"
For a minute there was silence and Billie knew that Connie was staringthrough the dark at her in absolute amazement.
"You perfectly silly goose," said Connie then, her bewilderment changingto indignation. "Now I know who wants to be shaken. Lie down here,Billie, and see if you can act sensibly. Sorry I asked you!" she explodedindignantly. "Why, who ever heard of such a thing!"
"But you said you wanted to solve the mystery--if there is one," Billiereminded her, lying down again.
"Well, of course I do. So do all the rest of you," Connie shot back. "Butas to being sorry I asked you, why, I've a good mind----" She rosethreateningly in the bed and Billie put out a pleading hand, saying witha chuckle:
"Please don't kill me or do whatever you were going to. I take it allback."
"I should say you'd better!" sputtered Connie, coming down with a thumpin the bed.
"What are you girls raving about?" asked a sleepy voice from the nextroom that they recognized as Vi's. "Can't you keep still and let a fellowsleep? Laura's snoring already."
"Oh, I am not!" came indignantly from Laura. "I never snore!"
"How do you know?" asked Vi with interest.
"Know!" sputtered Laura. "Why, I don't know how I know, but I do know."
"Perhaps you are like an aunt of mine," Vi's voice came lazily back. "Shesays she knows she never snores because she stayed awake all night oncejust to see if she did."
Billie and Connie chuckled, which would have made Laura more indignant ifshe had not been so sleepy.
"Oh, for goodness sake, keep still and let me sleep," she cried, addingferociously: "I saw a knife around somewhere downstairs. If anybodyspeaks another word I'm going down and get it."
Whether this threat had anything to do with it or not, it would be hardto say. But at any rate the girls did stop talking and settled down forsleep.
All but one of them succeeded in drifting off into the land of nod in notime at all, but that one of them--who was Billie--lay for a long timewith eyes wide open staring into the dark.
Then gradually the soft lapping of waves upon the beach soothed her intoa sort of doze where tall thin men and shabby picture albums and queerlittle huts were all confused and jumbled together. Only one thing stoodout clearly, and that was the great searchlight, twinkling, winking,glowing, sending its friendly message far out upon the sea.
Then all the troubled visions disappeared in a soft black cloud. Billiewas asleep.
Billie Bradley on Lighthouse Island; Or, The Mystery of the Wreck Page 16