“Of course.” Betsy was climbing over the low rail, “All aboard, that’s going aboard.”
She was closely followed by Barbara and Eleanor, then Megsy climbed over, and Sally; last of all, Virginia, though much against her better judgment.
“We mustn’t stay more than a moment,” she told them.
“We won’t,” this cheerfully from Betsy. “Lookee! There’s a sure enough cabin below decks.” She was peering down into the dark hold. “I suppose the fisherman who lives in the cabin under the cliff has just returned from a fishing trip. He anchored his boat here while he went in to town to sell his catch.” Then twinkling her eyes at Sally, she said, “I dare you to go alone down in that dark hole.”
“Well, I won’t take the dare,” the youngest girl retorted with some show of spirit.
“I will.” Babs was descending the rickety stairs even as she spoke, and Betsy clattered down after her.
“Oh, lookee! Here are two funny bunks that fold up against the walls,” Betsy sang out to the girls who were still on deck, “Oh, I say, be game, kids. Come on down and see what a fishing boat looks like. You may never have another chance.”
So Virginia and the other two girls descended. It took several moments for their eyes to become used to the dusk. Then. “Here are life preservers, but they’re all crumbling to pieces. Even a drowning rat wouldn’t find them much use,” Babs remarked.
“Hark!” Virginia held up a finger and they all listened.
“What’s that swishing sound, do you suppose?” Her questioning glance was directed toward Margaret.