“Yes, I telephoned for the man to fill the tank this morning. Look at
the automatic gauge and see if it isn’t registered,” for there was a
device on the boat that did away with the necessity of taking the top
off the tank and putting a dry stick down, to ascertain how much of the
fluid was on hand.
“Yes, it’s full,” replied Amy.
“Then here we go!” cried Betty, as the other girls shoved off from the
dock, and the Little Captain pushed the automatic starter. With a throb
and a roar the motor took up its staccato song of progress. When
sufficiently away from the dock Betty let in the clutch, and the craft
shot swiftly down the stream.
“Oh, this is glorious!” cried Mollie, as she stood beside Betty, the
wind fanning her cheeks and blowing her hair in a halo about her face.
“Perfect!” echoed Amy. “And even Grace has forgotten to eat a chocolate
for ten minutes.”
“Oh, let me alone—I just want to enjoy this!” exclaimed the
candy-loving maiden. They had been going along for some time, taking
turns steering, saluting other craft by their whistle, and being
saluted in turn.
“Let’s go sit down on the stern lockers,” proposed Grace after a while,
the lockers being convertible into bunks on occasion. As the girls went
aft, there came from the forward cabin a series of groans.
“What’s that?” cried Mollie.
“Some one is in there!” added Grace, clinging to Amy.
Again a groan, and some suppressed laughter.
“There are stowaways aboard!” cried Betty. “Girls, we must put ashore
at once and get an officer!” and she shifted the wheel.
CHAPTER VIII
A HINT OF GHOSTS
“Who can they be?”
“It sounds like more than one!”
“Anyhow, they can’t get out!” It was Betty who said this last, Grace
and Mollie having made the foregoing remarks. And Betty had no sooner
detected the presence on the _Gem_ of stowaways than she had pulled
shut the sliding door leading into the trunk cabin, and had slid the
hatch cover forward, fastening both with the hasps.
“They’ll stay there until we get an officer,” she explained. “Probably
they are tramps!”
“Oh, Betty!” It was a startled trio who cried thus.
“Well, maybe only boys,” admitted the Little Captain, as a concession.
“They may have come aboard, intending to go off for a ride in my boat,
and we came just in time. They hid themselves in there. That’s what I
think about it.”
“And you are exactly right, Betty!” unexpectedly exclaimed a voice from
behind the closed door. “That’s exactly how it happened. We’re
sorry—we’ll be good!”
“Dot any tandy?” came in childish accents from another of the
stowaways.
The girls looked at one another in surprise. Then a light dawned on
them.
“Don’t have us arrested!” pleaded another voice, with laughter in it.
“That’s Will!” cried Grace.
“And Frank Haley!” added Amy.
“And Paul!” spoke Mollie. “Little brother, are you in there?”
They listened for the answer.
“Ess, I’se here. Oo dot any tandy?”
“The boys put him up to that,” whispered Grace.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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