Go Ahead Boys and the Racing Motorboat Part 22

"Yes," declared the girl, "if you had left us alone we wouldn't have tipped over."

"What was it we did?" demanded George.

"Why you came up with your old motor-boat and when I tried to be polite, Mildred thought she had to do the same thing, and then over we went."

"Well, that was the time when it was fortunate for you that we happened to be nearby," said John dryly.

"That's just what you had to do; you couldn't have helped yourselves."

In spite of the words of the animated girl, who apparently now had recovered her spirits and strength, it was plain to the boys that she was genuinely grateful for the rescue which they had made. She was a deeply interested spectator of the work of the boys in casting off and starting their swift boat and even insisted upon being permitted to steer part of the way.

"Have you joined the yacht club yet?" she inquired.

"What's that?" demanded George.

"Why the St. Lawrence Yacht Club. I am sure Fred's grandfather must belong and probably that will be enough of an introduction. We have some fine times there. Tennis all day, dances in the evenings and I don't know what all. You must be sure to come over there."

"You may be sure we'll come," spoke up George promptly. "Now I want to know," he added, "what our reward is to be for our heroic rescue of two forlorn maidens who were sinking in the cold waters of the St. Lawrence River."

"I think virtue will have to be its own reward in this case," laughed Mildred. "You ought to be satisfied with the honor you have won."

Fortunately the island which Mr. Stevens had rented was not far distant and not many minutes had elapsed before it was plainly seen by them all.

Before a landing was made, however, Miss Susie Stevens had suggested numerous plans for picnics, cruises among the islands, meetings for tennis at the yacht club and various other methods by which the days were to be pa.s.sed.

As soon as their pa.s.sengers departed, the Black Growler was headed swiftly for Chestnut Island, the name by which the place owned by Fred's grandfather was commonly called.

Upon their arrival they were informed that already Mr. b.u.t.ton had telephoned for Sam Hodge and that he had received word that the man would arrive the following morning.

"I hope he'll bring all his legs, and arms with him," suggested George with a laugh.

"What do you mean?" inquired Mr. b.u.t.ton.

"Why, he has a choice a.s.sortment," explained George. "It seems he used to work in a shop on Broome Street in New York City where they make legs and heads and arms for dummies."

"I don't understand yet," said Mr. b.u.t.ton blankly.

"Why, these wax figures that they have in the windows," explained Fred.

"It was in a place where they make them that Sam Hodge worked and he made us all laugh when we took him on at Henderson Harbor. He was telling us about the boss throwing his leg at him and Sam told us he fired a foot back and before he had gone very far we had the air full of eyes, heads and legs and arms, feet and hands and everything else that goes to the making of a dummy. In fact I have almost come to believe that Sam is pretty well made up himself. When he comes down to-morrow I'm going to ask him to let me take out his eyes, take off his hair, pull out a foot and an arm, and when he gets through I'll see just how much there is of the real Sam anyway."

The boys laughed as Fred pictured the condition in which the loquacious Sam would be left.

Their interest, however, was still great in the exciting events through which they recently had pa.s.sed. Mr. b.u.t.ton was an interested listener and when the story had been all told he said quietly, "Mr. Stevens has been down here several summers. I have been afraid of that girl every year. If she doesn't find herself in the bottom of the river some time soon, I don't believe the fault will be hers."

"Why, what's the matter with her?" inquired Fred.

"She's too much of a tomboy."

"What's that?" inquired Grant, winking at the other boys as he spoke.

"Why, she does most of the things that the boys do. She plays tennis, shoots a rifle, paddles a canoe and manages the Stevens family."

"And that is why you call her a tomboy?" inquired Fred.

"Yes, sir, it is," said the old gentleman solemnly. "Girls didn't act that way when I was young."

"How did they act?"

"Why, they were taught to be ladylike."

"And what is ladylike?" asked Fred.

"Why, it is to act like a lady."

"Yes," protested Fred, "but why shouldn't a lady do these things you're speaking of?"

"Because they are not ladylike," replied Mr. b.u.t.ton testily.

"But why aren't they?" persisted Fred. "I don't see."

"That's because you haven't learned any sense yet," said his grandfather, irritated at last by the failure of his grandson to agree to all that he had said.

Fred laughed goodnaturedly, for behind the manner of his grandfather he knew there was a heart that was big and generous. Mr. b.u.t.ton occasionally stormed about the "present generation" being so markedly different and deficient in all the good qualities that marked the young people of his own younger days.

"What about that bond?" inquired John. "Have you heard anything more about it?"

"Not a word," said Mr. b.u.t.ton sharply.

Before the old gentleman turned away, however, for Fred suspected that the subject was not a welcome topic of conversation, he said quickly, "Where's the man that wanted the bond?"

"How should I know?" retorted his grandfather.

"Has he been back here?"

"No, sir, he hasn't."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I'm not sure if I did that I should tell you."

"But you said he went to Syracuse."

"If I did that's probably where he went."

"Yes," said Fred, still persisting in asking questions, "but you don't say whether he is coming back or not."

"That's quite true."

"Is he coming?"