Linda Carlton's Island Adventure

"Was it Jackson Carter who rescued you before, Linda?" she asked.

Linda blushed. "Yes – it was," she admitted.

"Then why did you treat him so cruelly? I should think you would have been everlastingly grateful."

"I was. Till his mother snubbed me – and he even doubted that I was a nice girl, just because I was traveling about alone. Then, when you introduced me, he wanted to be friends. Naturally I was hurt."

"I don't blame you! But Mrs. Carter is terribly old-fashioned."

While they were talking they had been slowly advancing towards the beach. Suddenly Linda spied a pile of articles near the spot where the autogiro had taken off.

"Look, Dot!" she cried. "There's our stuff on the shore! The basket! My over-night bag – and I guess that other box is my tool kit, that I always keep in the plane! Come on!"

Breathlessly they dashed down to the shore and found that their belongings had indeed been tossed out of the autogiro.

"This proves that Susie's our friend!" cried Linda, hopefully. "She must have done this."

"Fine friend – to steal the plane!" returned Dot. "She didn't have to go with that man!"

"Maybe not… I'm afraid I can't understand her," mourned Linda. "Half good, and half bad – "

"Don't worry about Susie," urged her companion. "We have enough to think about for ourselves… Still, it is nice that we eat tonight. Aren't we lucky to have that food?"

Dot's forced cheerfulness brought their wretched plight back to Linda. How selfish she had been, to drag this other girl into this wretched business, when she came South to enjoy a holiday!

"Oh, Dot!" she wailed, "I can't tell you how sorry I am – about bringing you in on this! I had no right to let you come. Your mother will never forgive me. It was different with Lou. When she set out on those wild adventures with me, her parents knew what to expect."

"Cheer up, we're not dead yet," was the reassuring reply. "Things aren't so black. Our enemy is safely out of the country, I take it, and Captain Magee is sure to look us up soon, when he doesn't hear from us. Besides, a friendly boat may come along at any minute."

"Dot, you're one girl in a thousand!" cried Linda, giving her chum a hug. "You're just an old peach, not to be complaining. And for my own sake, I'm so thankful you're with me! Just imagine how I'd feel all alone!"

"Well, let's enjoy ourselves while the food lasts. Let's carry it inshore farther, and find a camping place. You have matches in your pocket?"

"Always!" replied Linda, thinking of her experience in Canada, when she had lost her matches with her plane. "I keep my pockets as full as a man's now, so if I am separated from my plane, I'm not helpless."

"Wise girl! You're learning, Linda. In a year or two you can do exploring, like Byrd – if there are any places left to explore."

"I guess Aunt Emily will make me sit home with folded hands after this," remarked Linda, soberly. "If we aren't rescued soon, it will be bound to get into the newspapers."

She stooped over and opened her tool-box, in which she carried all sorts of things besides actual tools. A flash-light, a knife, wire and string, even nails and nuts. And down in the corner she found several cans of food, which she thought the bandits had taken out when they emptied the plane of its gas that first day in the swamp.

"This is going to be a big help," she said. "We might even build a boat – "

"Out of underbrush?" asked Dot, sarcastically. "Why, there isn't a decent tree on the whole island."

"I'm afraid you're right," sighed Linda. "Well, come on – let's get farther in, and take this money out of our clothing. Money can be a nuisance sometimes," she added, jokingly.

They picked up their possessions, Linda taking the tool-box, and Dot the bag and basket of food, and hunted the shadiest spot they could find for their camp. Then they set about diligently unloading the money, and stuffing it into the over-night bag, which they first emptied of its contents.

"Let's see what we have to keep us alive," suggested Dot, peering into the basket. "Three quarters of a chicken, ten oranges, almost a whole cake, four bananas, and eight rolls, besides that stuff you found. And one thermos bottle full of water – and another half full."

"It's the lack of water that's going to make it hardest," observed Linda. "If only the ocean weren't salty."

"Well, maybe we shan't even need all this! If we rig up some kind of signal of distress – "

"What shall we use? Clothing?"

"We might take hundred dollar bills," laughed Dot. "They're the most worthless things we have now."

"True. Only think how glad the people will be to get them back. Mrs. Carter, for instance… I have it!" exclaimed Linda, brightly. "Our pajamas! Lucky we put them into the bag! We won't need them in the day-time, and no boat could see a signal at night anyway."

"Good idea!" approved her chum. "Now let's leave all this stuff here, and explore the island. We might find something – and anyhow, it will give us something to do."

Arm in arm they returned to the beach, where the sand was harder, and began to circle the island. They had gone half way around – to the opposite shore – when they both spied the old motor boat at the same moment. So great was their joy that they jumped up and down, hugging each other wildly.

"Of course that's what the man came in!" cried Linda. "We might have known he and Susie couldn't swim the ocean!"

They started to race to the boat, and arrived together. Dot immediately set about examining it for leaks, while Linda gave her attention to the engine.

"It's broken," she said. "But I'm sure I can fix it. You know how I love to take motors apart. Just give me a day – "

"Darling, you can have a week if you want!" agreed Dot, wild with happiness and relief. "We can make our food last."

"A day or maybe two ought to be enough. Then we can get to that other island and retrieve the Ladybug, before anybody even misses us!"

"It seems to be pretty sound," said Dot. "No leaks, or anything. And there are even a couple of oars in the bottom, if the engine won't go."

"Oars wouldn't take us far, with such a heavy boat. But I'm sure I can fix the motor, and there's a can of gasoline here, besides what's in the tank… But I don't believe I better start now – I'd just get it apart, and the daylight would be gone. I'll get up early tomorrow…"

"Suits me," agreed the other. "Now let's go back to our camp and fix some supper."

Both girls felt exceedingly cheerful as they collected sticks and lighted a fire. From one of Linda's cans they took out tea, but the rest they left unopened. The beans and jam and biscuits would keep until after the picnic food was gone.

"I have a bright idea," remarked Dot, as she ate a leg of chicken. "Why couldn't we make chicken soup, out of the bones and sea-water? You have to put salt in it anyway, don't you?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid it would be too salty. It would make us so thirsty we'd want to drink all our water at once… Still, we might try. We wouldn't be wasting anything."

"Too bad we haven't sore throats," said Dot, still in a mood for joking.

"Sore throats!" repeated Linda, in amazement. "What's the connection between chicken soup and sore throats?"

"Nothing – I was only trying to think up ways to use salt water. We always have to gargle with salt water, at home, when we have sore throats. Doesn't your Aunt Emily make you do that?"

Her companion laughed. "No, we always use Listerine. But it's an idea. Think up some more, Dot – we'll get some uses for it yet!"

They drank very sparingly of the water in the thermos bottle – one cup apiece – and decided to limit themselves to that at each meal. Sometimes they would substitute oranges – how thankful they were that they had brought so many!

Their light-hardheartedness diminished as the sun went down and darkness settled over the island. The loneliness of the night, the solemn roar of the ocean, the isolation of the island, appalled them. Not a human being except themselves – not a human sound!