The Campfire Girls on Station Island: or, The Wireless from the Steam Yacht

“She does. My father says so. And he and Mr. Norwood are going to get it for her.”

“They will have a fine time doing that,” sneered Belle. “Why, my father has a claim upon all the middle of the island, and he is going to make his claim good. That nasty little freckle-faced young one from Dogtown will never get a foot of Hackle Island – you’ll see!”

Amy shrugged her shoulders as she and Jessie took seats at a table. She knew how to aggravate Belle Ringold, and she sometimes rather impishly enjoyed bothering the proud girl.

“And there’s one thing,” went on Belle, with emphasis, so exasperated that she did not see Nick, the clerk, who was waiting for her order, “I wouldn’t go away for the summer unless we went to a really fashionable hotel. No, indeed! Cottagers at seaside places are always of such a common sort!”

Amy only laughed. Jessie remained silent. It really did trouble her to have these controversies with Belle. It was not nice and she did not feel right after they were over.

“There is something wrong with us, as well as with Belle,” Jessie said once to Amy, on this topic.

“I’d like to know what’s wrong with us?” her chum demanded. “I like that!”

“When we squabble with Belle and Sally we make ourselves just as common as they are.”

“Tut, tut! Likewise ‘go to,’ whatever that means,” laughed Amy Drew. “Why, child, if we did not keep up our end of any controversy that those girls start they would walk all over us.”

However, on this occasion, and at Jessie’s earnest desire, Amy hastened the eating of her George Washington sundae and the two friends got out of the shop before Darry and Burd Alling appeared in the car.

“What’s the matter?” asked Amy’s brother, when the car stopped before the Dainties Shop and he saw his sister and Jessie waiting. “Spent all your money and waiting for us to take you in and treat you?”

“We had ours,” Jessie replied promptly, getting into the tonneau.

“Yes, indeed. ‘Home, James!’” Amy added, following her chum.

“And so we are to be deprived of our needed nourishment because you piggy-wiggies have had enough?” demanded Burd Alling, with serious objection. “I – guess – not! Come along, Darry,” and he hopped out of the car.

“You’d better look ahead before you leap,” giggled Amy.

“What’s that?” asked Darry, hesitating and looking at his sister curiously.

“What’s up her sleeve?” demanded Burd, with suspicion.

“You can treat Belle and Sally instead of Jessie and me, if you go in,” said Amy.

“Oh, my aunt!” exclaimed Burd, and sprang into the automobile again. “Drive on, Darrington! If you love me take me away before those girls get their hooks in me.”

“Don’t mind about you,” growled Darrington, starting the car. “I will look out for myself, if you please. I hope I never meet up with those two girls again.”

At that his sister went off into uncontrollable laughter.

“To think!” she cried. “And Belle and Sally are going to be all summer on Station Island!”

“That settles it,” announced Darry. “Burd and I will spend our time aboard the Marigold. How about it, Burd?”

“Surest thing you know. At least we can escape those two on the yacht.”

And this amused Amy immensely, too. For was not Belle desirous of chartering the Marigold?

CHAPTER VIII – ABOARD THE “MARIGOLD”

Before she was ready to go to Station Island Jessie Norwood had a few purchases to make that had nothing to do with little Henrietta Haney. She had decided to disconnect her radio set and send the instrument down with the rest of the baggage. In addition, she was determined to take Monty Shannon’s advice and buy the additional parts which made the Dogtown boy’s set so much more successful than her own.

“We’ll buy wire for the antenna, of course,” Jessie said to Amy. “Let our old aerial stand till we return. All we shall have to do will be to hook it up again when we set up the set in my room.”

So they bought the wire, the lightning switch, and the other small parts in New Melford and sent them all on the truck with the trunks to the dock where the Marigold waited. The next day the two families, the Norwoods and the Drews, as well as Burd Alling and little Henrietta, were whisked to the yacht club dock in several automobiles.

The girls had heard from Bertha over the telephone. And considering the state of mind and body that Mrs. Blair was in, the poor woman was probably very well content that Henrietta should be in Mrs. Norwood’s care for a while.

The freckle-faced little girl was wild with excitement when she got aboard Darry’s yacht. She had never been on such a craft before.

“I declare,” said Amy, “we’ll have to put a ball and chain on this kid, or she will be overboard.”

Henrietta stared at her. “Is that one of those locket and chain things you wear around your neck? I’m going to buy me one when I get my island. I never did own any joolry.”

This set Amy off into a breeze of laughter, but Jessie realized that Henrietta was perfectly fearless and would need watching while they were on the yacht.

The Marigold was by no means a new vessel, but it was roomy and seaworthy. That it was a coal-burner rather than a modern oil-burner, or with gasoline engines, did not at all decrease its value in the eyes of its young owner. Darry Drew was inordinately proud of the yacht.

He ran it with a small crew, and he and Burd, or whoever of his boy friends he had aboard, did a share of the work.

“I declare!” sniffed Amy, “I suppose you will expect Jess and me to go down and stoke the furnaces for you if you get short handed. Why not? You expect Mrs. Norwood and mamma to do the cooking.”

“Oh, that’s only for this voyage. When we have only fellows aboard we all take turns cooking and get along all right.”

“Does Burd cook?” demanded Amy, in mock horror.

“Well, he is pretty bad,” admitted Darry, with a grin. “But we let him cook only on days when the sea is rough.”

“And why?” demanded his sister, with wide-open eyes.

“We never feel much like eating on rough days,” explained Darry. “You see, the Marigold kicks up quite a shindy when the sea is choppy.”

“Let us hope it will be calm all the way to Station Island,” Jessie cried.

She had her wish. At least, the wind was fair, the sea “kicked up no combobberation,” to quote her chum, and every one enjoyed the sail. If the Marigold was not a racing boat, her speed was sufficient. They had no desire to get to the island until the following day.

Darry’s sailing master was a seasoned old mariner named Pandrick. They called him Skipper. At noon the yacht crossed one of the many “banks” to which New York fishing boats sail and the skipper pronounced the time opportune for fishing.

“There’s blackfish and flounders on the bottom and yellow-fin and maybe bass higher up. You won’t find a better chance, Mr. Darry,” observed the sailing master.

Every one grew excited over this prospect, and the boys got out the tackle and bait. Even Henrietta must fish. Jessie had been about to suggest a cushioned seat in the cabin for the little girl, with a pillow and a rug, for she had seen Henrietta nodding after lunch. The child would not hear of anything like that.

The anchor was dropped quietly and the Marigold swung at that mooring while the fishermen took their stations. Darry gave his personal attention to Henrietta’s bait and showed her how to cast her line. The little girl had been fishing many times, if only for fresh water fish, and she was not awkward.

“Don’t you bother ‘bout me, Miss Jessie,” she said to her mentor impatiently. “I bet I get a fish before you do. I ain’t so slow.”

Amy had fixed a station for her chum beside her own in the shade of the awning. Mr. Norwood and Mr. Drew had brought their rods. Everybody was soon engaged in an occupation which really calls for the undivided attention of the fisherman. The boys ordered all of them to keep quiet.