“Oh, stop your nonsense, Katherine,” said Gladys. “You make me laugh so I can’t think of a thing to do. Captain, how are we going to attract people’s attention?”
“Run up a distress signal, I suppose,” replied the Captain, “if we have anything to run up.”
201“Well, there’s one thing about it,” declared Katherine flatly, “I refuse to be the distress signal this time. Every time we’ve had to have one in the past my belongings have been sacrificed.”
“Don’t get worried, injured one,” said Gladys soothingly. “We can wave the two towels I brought along.”
“Just the thing!” said Katherine. “We can wave them when the steamer goes by and they’ll send a lifeboat for us. How romantic! She’s just coming into the channel now. Everybody get ready to call.”
The big Huronic, the magnificent white steamer that stopped at St. Pierre once a week on her way down to Chicago, swung into sight around a long point of land.
“Now wave!” commanded Katherine, when the Huronic was almost opposite them, and the towels fluttered frantically over the edge of the little balcony. Dozens of handkerchiefs were waved in answer from the deck of the big liner. “They think we’re just waving at them for fun,” said Katherine, when nothing took place that looked like an effort at rescue.
Making trumpets of their hands they all shrieked in unison, “Help!” But the wind was toward them and carried the sound back. The stately Huronic proceeded serenely on her way without a pause.
“They aren’t going to stop!” said Gladys.
202“Oh, let them go on then,” said Katherine crossly. Then she added, “I suppose it was kind of foolish to expect a big boat like that to stop and pick up a bunch of folks that didn’t know any better than to climb into an old lighthouse and let their boats float away.”