CHAPTER 1 _ADRIFT_
"This is the limit! The very limit!" Giving his leather suitcase animpatient kick, Anthony Parker began to pace up and down the creaking olddock.
His daughter Penny, who stood in the shadow of a shed out of the hotafternoon sun, grinned at him with good humor and understanding.
"Oh, take it easy, Dad," she advised. "After all, this is a vacation andwe have two weeks before us. Isn't the river beautiful?"
"What's beautiful about it?" her father growled.
However, he turned to gaze at a zigzag group of sailboats tackinggracefully along the far rippled shore. Not a quarter of a mile away, aferryboat churned the blue water to whip cream foam as it steamedupstream.
"Are you certain this is the dock where we were to meet Mr. Gandiss?"Penny asked after a moment. "It seems queer he would fail us, for it'snearly five o'clock now. We've waited almost an hour."
Ceasing the restless pacing, Mr. Parker, publisher of the _RiverviewStar_, a daily newspaper, searched his pockets and found a crumpledletter.
Reviewing it at a glance, he said: "Four o'clock was the hour Mr. Gandisspromised to meet us at dock fourteen."
"This is number fourteen," Penny confirmed, pointing to the numbersplainly visible on the shed. "Obviously something happened to Mr.Gandiss. Perhaps he forgot."
"A nice thing!" muttered the publisher. "Here he invites us to spend twoweeks at his island home and then fails to meet us! Does he expect us toswim to the island?"
Penny, a slim, blue-eyed girl with shoulder length bob which the windtossed about at will, wandered to the edge of the dock.
"That must be Shadow Island over there," she observed, indicating a dotof green land which arched from the water like the curving back of aturtle. "It must be nearly a mile away."
"The question is, how much longer are we to wait?" Mr. Parker glancedagain at his watch. "It's starting to cloud up, and may rain in anotherhalf hour. Why not taxi into town? What's the name of this one-horsedump, anyhow?"
"Our tickets read 'Tate's Beach.'"
"Well, Tate's Beach must do without us this summer," Mr. Parker snapped,picking up his suitcase. "I've had my fill of this! We'll spend the nightin a hotel, then start for Riverview on the early morning train."
"Do you know Mr. Gandiss well?" Penny inquired, stalling for time.
"He advertises in the _Star_, and we played golf together occasionallywhen he came to Riverview. I must have been crazy to accept an invitationto come here!"
"Oh, we'll have a good time if only we can get to the island, Dad."
"I can't figure out exactly why Gandiss invited us," Mr. Parker addedthoughtfully. "He has something in mind besides entertainment, but whatit is, I haven't been able to guess."
"How about hiring a boat?" Penny suggested.
Her father debated, then shook his head. "No, if Gandiss doesn't thinkenough of his guests to meet them, then he can do without us. Come on,we're leaving!"
Never noted for an even temper or patience, the publisher strode down thedock.
"Wait, Dad!" Penny called excitedly. "I think someone may be coming forus now!"
A mahogany motorboat with glittering brasswork, approached at high speedfrom the direction of Shadow Island. As Penny and her father hopefullywatched, it swerved toward their dock, and the motor was throttled.
"That's not Mr. Gandiss," the publisher said, observing a sandy-haired,freckled youth at the steering wheel.
Nevertheless, suitcase in hand, he waited for the boat.
The craft came in smoothly, and the young man at the wheel leaped out andmade fast to a dock post.
"You're Anthony Parker!" he exclaimed, greeting Penny's father, andbestowing an apologetic smile upon them both. "I'm Jack--Jack Gandiss."
"Harvey Gandiss' son?" Mr. Parker inquired, his annoyance melting.
"A chip off the old block," the boy grinned. "Hope I haven't kept youwaiting long."
"Well, we had just about given up," Mr. Parker admitted truthfully.
"I'm sure sorry, sir. I promised my father I would meet you sharp atfour. Fact is, I was out on the river with some friends, and didn'trealize how late it was. We were practicing for the trophy sailboatrace."
Penny's blue eyes sparkled with interest. An excellent swimmer, she tooenjoyed sailing and all water sports. However, she had never competed ina race.
"Suppose we get along to the island," Mr. Parker interposed, glancing atthe sky. "I don't like the look of those clouds."
"Oh, it won't rain for hours," Jack said carelessly. "Those clouds aremoving slowly and we'll reach the island within ten minutes."
Helping Penny and Mr. Parker into the motorboat, he stowed the luggageunder the seat and then cast off. In a sweeping circle, the craft spedpast a canbuoy which marked a shoal, and out into the swift current.
Penny held tightly to her straw hat to keep it from being blowndownstream. A stiff breeze churned the waves which spanked hard againstthe bow of the boat.
"My father was sorry he couldn't meet you himself!" Jack hurled at themabove the whistle of the wind. "He was held up at the airplanefactory--labor trouble or something of the sort."
Mr. Parker nodded, his good humor entirely restored. Settling comfortablyin the leather seat, he focused his gaze on distant Shadow Island.
"Good fishing around here?" he inquired.
"The best ever. You'll like it, sir."
Jack was nearly seventeen, with light hair and steel blue eyes. His whitetrousers were none too well pressed and the sleeves of an old sweaterbore smears of grease. Steering the boat with finger-tip control, hedeliberately cut through the highest of the waves, treating hispassengers to a series of jolts.
Some distance away, a ferryboat, the _River Queen_, glided smoothlyalong, its railings thronged with people. In the pilot house, a girl whomight have been sixteen, stood at the wheel.
"Look, Dad!" Penny exclaimed. "A girl is handling that big boat!"
"Sally Barker," Jack informed disparagingly. "She's the daughter ofCaptain Barker who owns the _River Queen_. A brat if ever there was one!"
"She certainly has that ferryboat eating out of her hand," Mr. Parkercommented admiringly.
"Oh, she handles a boat well enough. Why shouldn't she? The captainstarted teaching her about the river when she was only three years old.He taught her all she knows about sailboat racing, too."
Jack's tone of voice left no doubt that he considered Sally Barkercompletely beneath his notice. As the two boats drew fairly closetogether, the girl in the pilot house waved, but he pretended not to see.
"You said something about a sailboat race when we were at the dock,"Penny reminded him eagerly. "Is it an annual affair?"
Jack nodded, swerving to avoid a floating log. "Sally won the trophy lastyear. Before that I held it. This year I am planning on winning it back."
"Oh, I see," Penny commented dryly.
"That's not why I dislike Sally," Jack said to correct anymisapprehension she might have gained. "It's just--well, she's so sure ofherself--so blamed stubborn. And it's an insult to Tate's Beach the wayshe flaunts the trophy aboard that cheap old ferryboat!"
"How do you mean?" Mr. Parker inquired, his curiosity aroused.
Jack did not reply, for just then the engine coughed. The boat plowed ona few feet, and the motor cut off again.
"Now what?" Jack exclaimed, alarmed.
Even as he spoke, the engine died completely.
"Sounds to me as if we're out of gas," observed Mr. Parker. "How is yoursupply?"
A stricken look came upon Jack's wind-tanned face. "I forgot to fill thetank before I left the island," he confessed ruefully. "My father told meto be sure to do it, but I started off in such a hurry."
"Haven't you an extra can of fuel aboard?" Mr. Parker asked, trying tohide his annoyance.
Jack shook his head, gazing gloomily toward the distant island. Thecurrent had ca
ught the boat and was carrying it downstream, away from theGandiss estate.
"Nothing to do then, but get out the oars. And it will be a long, hardrow."
"Oars?" Jack echoed weakly. "We haven't any aboard and no anchor either."
Mr. Parker was too disgusted to speak. A man who demanded efficiency andresponsibility in his own newspaper plant, he had no patience with thosenegligent of their duties. Because he and Penny were to be guests of theGandiss family, he made an effort not to blame Jack for the mishap.
"I--I'm terribly sorry," the boy stammered. "But we shouldn't be strandedhere long. We'll soon be picked up."
Hopefully, Jack gazed toward the nearest shore. No small boats werevisible. The ferry, plying her regular passenger route, now was farupstream.
Although the sun still shone brightly, clouds frequently blocked it fromview. Waves slapped higher against the drifting boat and the river tookon a dark cast.
Neither Penny nor her father spoke of the increasing certainty of rain.However, they watched the shifting clouds uneasily. Soon there was nomore sun, and the river waters became inky black.
Presently the wind died completely and a dead calm held the boat. But notfor many minutes. Soon a ripple of breeze ruffled the water, and farupstream a haze of rain blotted out the shoreline.
"Here it comes!" Mr. Parker said tersely, buttoning up his coat.
The next instant, wind and rain struck the little boat in full force.Penny's hat was swept from her head and went sailing gaily down river.Waves which broke higher and higher, spanked the boat, threatening tooverturn it when they struck broadside.
"If we just had an anchor--" Jack murmured but did not finish.
Above the fury of the storm could be heard the faint clatter of amotorboat engine. Straining their eyes, they pierced the wall of rain tosee a small speedboat fighting its way upstream.
"A boat!" Penny cried. "Now we'll be picked up!"
Jack sprang to his feet, waving and shouting. Closer and closerapproached the boat, but there was no answering shout from those aboard.
Mr. Parker, Penny and Jack yelled in unison. They thought for a momentthat the occupants must have heard their cries and would come to therescue. But the craft did not change course.
Keeping steadily on, it passed the drifting motorboat well to starboard,and disappeared into the curtain of rain.