THE BAREFOOT GIRLS
"LOOK! Look!" shrieked Grace. "That's Luna Land!"
"Oh, isn't that too stupid!" added Cleo, almost in dismay. "To think we were wandering around there and didn't know it."
"But how were we fooled?" asked Julia, also showing signs of keen disappointment.
"Don't you see we went in on the other side," explained Helen. "That's the pocket and just as I thought we were in the old hip pocket. Isn't that too mean!"
Eugenia and Mae were now made aware of the girls' eager expectations for a trip to that island, and when every one had finally been convinced that the trip had really been made without the least suspicion of its consummation, there seemed nothing to do but demand a good laugh from the odd occurrence.
All stood up to watch the very last speck of green, as Luna Land disappeared, and only the added interest and anxiety, consequent upon their delay, and the need to hasten back to the waiting home folks, tended to break the spell.
"To have actually been on that island!" repeated Grace, trying to realize it.
"And to have gathered signs there," put in Cleo. "Glad I took them along, although I did so unconsciously."
"We must have a troop meeting to-morrow," said Margaret. "This alters everything."
"I think it simply turns on the gasoline," remarked Grace. "Now, we know something about Looney Land."
Neal was leading in his new launch, and the Blowell followed as proudly as if nothing had occurred to spoil her trip. It was almost dark, but not quite, as the long summer evening stayed and over-stayed, to the benefit of the belated sailors.
"There's Leonore and Ben," sang out Grace, as they caught sight of the blue car waiting at the landing.
"Also Gerald and—yes, it's Isabel," called Helen, for from her family car a girl in Isabel's green sweater was waving merrily to the incoming craft.
Explanations with details of delays on a sailboat seemed entirely superfluous, and with creditable good sense the stranded party was welcomed home, without the worry of sighs or sobs.
"But why did you go to the city to-day of all days?" Cleo demanded of Isabel. "We have had the event of the season, and you should have been among those present."
"The dentist," explained Isabel, making room for her chums in the car. "Nothing on earth but a tyrannical dentist could drag me away from Sea Crest in mid season."
"Well, I thought it must have been something urgent," Cleo conceded. "But, Izzy love! We have been to Luna Land!"
"You didn't tell us!" charged Elizabeth. She had been to the city with Isabel.
"We didn't know," returned Cleo. "It was an accident—a miraculous accident."
Followed such snatchy bits of explanation as might be given on the short ride home. Isabel and Elizabeth seemed quite as much absorbed in the fact that their friend Neal had a new motor boat as did they in the revelation concerning Luna Land.
The evening attraction of moonlight bathing served to divert, temporarily, the girls' keen interest in holding a True Tred meeting immediately. Every one wanted to go straight back to the island—no dogs had devoured them, no lunatics were discovered up trees, no ghosts had been noticed ambling about the grove, and why had they even hesitated to explore there? Each demanded an answer from each, but none replied.
Moonlight, like all the other released atmospheric beauties, came "double barreled," and crowds flocked to the beach for the novelty of evening bathing.
"And of course, we're too young," grumbled Isabel. "I just wonder if the water is the same day as night. Come on, let's wade."
This was the signal for wading preparations. In a sheltered corner under the board walk, the girls divested themselves of their shoes and stockings, scampered back to the edge and encountered knee deep waves or wavelets.
"Wading is really decorous in the dark," boomed Elizabeth. "It's lots more fun than even bathing in daylight."
"But not as good as swimming," replied Louise, who had just allowed her pretty pink scarf-sash to come in contact with the ruinous salt water.
At the sound of the nine-thirty gong—it was the village fire alarm that always sounded the hour—the scouts as well as the other merrymakers hurried to dress. True, they had but to don stockings and pumps, but the beach crowds scattered so quickly, it was necessary to hurry, or run the risk of being alone with the crabs.
"Where did you put the things?" Cleo called to Grace. "I don't see them here."
"Left them exactly against the third post from the steps, coming toward the shoe black stand," Grace indicated.
"That would be all right on an income tax blank," sang out Cleo, after a fruitless search, "but it does not betray the boots. They're not here."
"Oh lands, hurry!" begged Elizabeth. "We shall be all alone with Davy Jones or Mr. McGinty or whoever it is who janities the ocean by night. Let's all look."
No need for this proposal for all were looking; they needed pumps and stockings, but none could be found.
"Are you sure you left them here?" asked Louise again.
"Positive," replied Grace.
"And I saw them when I went for my bag," said Elizabeth. "I remember now, I left the pocket flash light burning—forgot to turn it off."
"You left a light in the sand by our things!" exclaimed Cleo. "Brilliant Betty! Well, why wouldn't the small boys walk off with them, either for fun or profit."
"I see nothing to do but play hop scotch home," said Helen dolefully. "And they were my best patent leathers."
"My silk stockings broke the family bank," chimed in Louise. "Mother had just declared they would be the very last pair."
"Let's go to the pier and beg matches," suggested Isabel. "I don't fancy skipping all the way to Third Avenue 'as is,' whatever way that may be, but I believe it applies to any sort of goods not up to the best mark, and with bare feet I don't feel quite par excellence."
"Still you do the Greek dances beautifully," consoled Louise. "Let us take this philosophically. We have lost our booties and we must go home. Now let's——" and she raced off with all the barefoot scouts after her.
Not that they minded that in the least, but the loss of silk stockings and pumps was not a good joke, even to the jolly True Treds.
Danger of broken glass and alighting on sharp pebbles varied the hopping, skipping and jumping, until the last scout dusted her toes and tried to explain the bare-foot stunt to surprised relatives.
Early next morning, that portion of the beach where the clothing had been lost was visited, first by one, and then another, until without arranging to do so, the whole party had again assembled.
"What shall we do about it?" asked Grace. "No use allowing any one to get away with five pairs of pumps and stockings."
"Besides a flash light and my bag," inserted Elizabeth.
"I guess we will have to put a sign on the post office," suggested Cleo.
This was met with a howl of ridicule.
"Can you imagine everybody devouring a neat little sign that stated five pairs of stockings——?" Grace asked.
"Oh, don't," begged Helen. "Let's do without them and wear sneaks. If we all set in to wearing them folks will think they are the very latest thing in footgear," she said pompously.
"Look what I dug up," Cleo exclaimed, displaying a rather disfigured pair of tennis shoes. "Jerry decorated them last summer, when he was trying out some new water colors. See that emblem there?" pointing to something like a wish-bone design. "Well, that's his frat emblem," she told her companions.
"Then it's decided we let the shoes go, and all our poor luck with them," said Isabel. "But I do feel rather mournful about my pretty buckles."
"Let's hie to the bungalow, and talk over our delayed plans to further invade Luna Land," called out Louise, poised on a treacherous sand heap. "I'm just dying for another try at that mystery."
In the conclave it was decided to ask Neal for a ride in his lovely new motor boat.
"That will be the safest way to go," said Louise, "as it would afford the quickest chance of getting away."
"Nothing to be afraid of," Cleo said disdainfully.
"How do we know?" argued Isabel. "Just because no bears jumped out at us is not proof there were none up the trees."
"Bears don't climb the trees," retorted Elizabeth.
"Well, we might have to and it's just the same," insisted Isabel.
"Do you know," said Cleo. "I wouldn't be surprised if some little child over there is playing Peter Pan!"
"That's nothing. Every child plays Peter Pan," cut in Margaret. "Didn't you tell us Mary Dunbar went up a tree at Bellaire?"
"Yes, but I mean a child who is living out the character, if that explains it more clearly," said Cleo.
"Nothing startling about that either," commented Helen, who admitted she was fairly "sizzling" for a mystery.
"Maybe Bentley wrote those signs," said Julia.
"Bentley!" exclaimed Grace. "That big boy wrote 'Take me to mama'! Julia, Julia, Julia! Are you as far gone as that?"
"He could write them for fun, couldn't he?" fired back the much tantalized girl.
"Well, he could, of course, but how would he get the fun out of doing a thing like that? No, we have to look either for a freak or a poor neglected child. Now, True Treds, take your choice!" advised Louise.
"I choose the freak," decided Cleo. "Freaks are funny."
"And I take the chee-i-ld!" trilled Grace, "children need to be cared for, and True Treds should help."
"Whatever will Captain Dave think when he hears we have been on the forbidden ground?" asked Louise. "I care more for his opinion than for anything else."
"Guess we all do," said Margaret seriously. "We wouldn't like him to think we actually defied him."
"But wasn't it the most delicious joke," Grace reminded them. "When I didn't die a sudden death as Neal called out 'Why, that's Luna Land!' I will tell you girls, I am doomed to a ripe old age."
"Suppose we go right down now, and tell Captain Dave all about it?" proposed Louise. "I shall feel better when the dark secret is off my conscience."
"A wise plan," declared Margaret, "but I don't like these slippers for a walk at this hour, too near bathing time. Anybody going in to-day?"
"Surely, but there's plenty of time yet," argued Grace. "All in favor of a trip to Captain Dave's—run."
Along the grassy edge of Glimmer Lake it was only a short run to the life saving station and, just as they hoped, the genial captain sat outside, in his big, strong chair, smoking the faithful pipe.
"You can never guess where we have been, Captain?" Cleo began quickly, as the girls were able to flock about.
"Oh, yes I can," he replied to their surprise. "You been over to the island."
They were astonished. Who had told him in so short a time?
"How did you know?" asked Grace.
"Little bird," mumbled the captain. He did seem a trifle serious for him.
"Not the carrier pigeon?" asked Louise. "And you don't mind, do you Captain Dave?"
"We had no idea of going," Helen hurried to say, before the seaman could answer.
"So you got stranded?" he asked, as usual bringing his helpless pipe into play.
Then followed an account of the accident that ended in the precipitous visit to Luna Land.
"But who told you about it, Captain?" asked Grace once more.
"Kitty," he replied simply.
"Kitty saw us!" Margaret gasped. The surprise intended for Captain Dave had been diverted, it appeared.
"Yes, Kitty was there; but she saw what happened, as she explained it to me, and she knew you wouldn't stay long," explained the old sailor.
"But why didn't she speak to us?" pouted Cleo.
"Guess she thought it was safer to let you get off quietly as you got on," replied the Captain, and his deep set eyes wandered out over that familiar sea, although his audience wondered what ever he could see there to hold his attention after so many years of watching.
"I think she might have trusted us," said Helen, showing something like resentment.
"It likely was not that," the captain assured the girls. "She'd trust you, I'm sure, but she might not trust others," he finished mysteriously.
They seemed further than ever now from their purpose. The captain was rather reticent, though usually so genial, in fact, for the first time the scouts felt as if their visit might not be entirely welcome.
Could he be displeased with them? The language of their glances asked that question plainly.
"But we did have the awfulest time," Louise broke the awkward silence. "Captain, it's lovely to sail, and our Blowell was like a sea queen, until we struck that sand bar, then she stuck like—like the Brooklyn Bridge, not a thing could move her. We did break a couple of oars trying to pry ourselves loose, but a sand bar is a mighty power when you hit it wrong side up," finished Louise, proud of her attempt to interest the rather silent captain.
"Anything wrong, Captain?" Grace asked, with her usual directness. "You look worried."
"Maybe I am a bit," he admitted. "But nothing very serious," and he made his pipe serve to emphasize the fact.
"Could we help you?" inquired Helen simply.
The old sea man smiled and reached over to pat her shoulders. She was sitting on the steps, and he sat just above in the hickory arm chair.
"I've been tryin' to figure out who might help me," he replied finally, "and I've about concluded you little girls would be as safe as anybody. And queer thing, too—" he went on. "You're the first—who ever offered to help old Dave, though many a one he has pulled out of that briny."
The girls moved closer to the hickory chair. Not one felt she could break that spell by speaking.
"But it will be quite a story," continued the captain, "and it is nigh on to eight bells now. Suppose you come around here this afternoon after your swim—no, best after dinner," he corrected himself. "The men have to eat on the stroke of twelve, then we have drill, and some government messages to explain—make it two-thirty," he said finally, "and we'll see what we can do."