“Who would have thought they’d do such a thing?” was Agnes’ vigorous speech. “I’m always expecting them to get into mischief when Sammy Pinkney is along. But one would think that with him thousands of miles away, Tess and Dot could be trusted for half an hour alone.”
“I can’t blame them,” sighed Ruth. “Of course they had no intention of sailing away with the motor-boat. It was an accident.”
“And we can’t do a thing to help,” said her sister gloomily, and cuddled down in her blanket.
Worried as she really was, Agnes was not long awake. Ruth tossed and turned and, as on the night before, could not compose herself to sleep. Each faint sound from the sea aroused her sharply. Were their friends coming back? Had they found the motor-boat and the children and repaired the former and brought back the latter?
Thus between sleeping and waking Ruth Kenway lay until long after midnight. A faint mist, as usual, rose from the sea and rolled inshore, masking every object with a soft and glowing mantle. She watched these wisps of fog until her nerves were “jumpy” and her troubled mind was filled with strange imaginings.
Figures seemed stalking along the open shore; but she knew they made no sound and left no footprints on the sand. They were merely phantoms of her overwrought thought.
Then suddenly, but so sharply that she could not deny its existence, something clattered out there on the sea. She sat up with a gasp and reached a nervous hand toward her sister.
Then she waited. Why arouse Agnes and frighten her? It might not be anything of consequence.
The sound was repeated. Ruth could not identify its cause, but she knew it could be no marine creature. It was no noise made by the turtles which sought the island each night at this season of the year.