They slept well that night, for the sand, covered with leaves the girls had plucked, made a soft bed. A breeze from the ocean was so cooling that Linda had to pull their slickers over them as a covering. The stars shone in a friendly sky; hand in hand, as Linda and Lou had so often slept, the two girls dropped off into unconsciousness.
Their first thought upon awakening, after remembering where they were, was the autogiro. Their second was the motor-boat. They could not eat any breakfast until they had made sure that both of these were still safe.
"That island doesn't look very far away, does it?" Dot remarked, after they had satisfied themselves upon these two questions.
"No, it doesn't," agreed Linda, taking out her spyglasses. "Only, you can't tell by appearances—they're so deceiving on the ocean."
They went back to their camp and breakfasted on oranges and rolls, finishing off with chocolate cake.
"Because we might as well enjoy it while it is fresh," Dot said laughingly. Neither girl ever had to worry about indigestion.
All day long Linda worked on the engine, with her companion at her side, watching her in admiration. All that day and the next. On the evening of the twenty-ninth of June she announced that she was finished. The engine was condescending to run!
"Tomorrow we get the Ladybug!" Linda announced, exultantly. "And get back to Jacksonville in time to keep our engagements for July first!"
They were very happy as they sat beside their camp fire that night, eating their supper of baked beans and crackers and oranges. Happy and light-hearted, never thinking to glance at the sky, and to guess the meaning of the dark clouds that were gathering. Had they only done so, they might have gone to the autogiro that night in their repaired motor-boat—and saved their relatives and friends all the anguish and anxiety that they were to experience during the coming days.