“I think that idea of having a radio concert by which to raise funds for the hospital was unusually good,” the New York woman said. “It was the first thing that interested me in radio-telephony. I mean to have a set put in here soon. There is a big one in the hotel foyer, but it does not work perfectly at all times.”
“Dear me,” said Nell, as the girls descended to the beach, “you run into radio fans everywhere, don’t you? How interesting!”
The boat was all right, only half filled with water. The bathhouse man came and turned the craft over for them and emptied it. Jessie thanked and tipped him and he pushed them off. Jessie and Amy each took an oar and made Nell sit in the stern and nurse her blister.
“It really is something of a blister,” Amy remarked, looking at it carefully.
“There’s water in it already, and it hurts!” wailed the clergyman’s daughter.
“I see the water,” declared Amy. “It may be an ever-living spring there. You know, people have water on the brain and water on the knee; but seems to me a spring in your hand must be lots worse.”
“You never will be serious,” said Nell, half laughing. “If the blister was on your hand——”
“Don’t say a word! I think I shall have one before we reach the landing,” declared Amy. “And, girls, what do you suppose that grouchy old fisherman will say when he sees we lost his rudder?”
“He won’t see that,” replied Jessie.
“What! Why, listen to her!” gasped Amy. “Is she going to try to get away before he misses the rudder?”