"Where's the picnic going?" asked Polly, more as a reply than from curiosity.
"Blackberry Island—prettiest place around here," Larry answered. "If you haven't been there, that's one place you ought to see."
"Girls, why don't we have a picnic of our own?" said Jess eagerly. "Why don't we go to Blackberry Island?"
POLLY SAVES THE DAY
The more Jess thought about Blackberry Island, the surer she was that her happiness depended on a picnic there. The others were inclined to enjoy the present—the salty breeze blowing in their faces, the swift motion of the boat through the green water, and the sense of being quite cut off from the land, though they could see the shore line plainly.
"Wouldn't it be funny if we should pick up our own tin box?" giggled Jess. "You know, the one we put the messages in when we had our beach party."
"Poor Ella Mooney wrote a message, too," Polly sighed. "I guess we never thought then that she would disappear."