CHAPTER XIII
BY THEMSELVES
The motor boat was made fast to a small private dock which stretched out into Raquette Lake. Sitting in the craft, as the girls and their newly wed friends, the Parson bride and groom, approached, was a man of sour, not to say forbidding countenance. He was whittling a stick, snipping the curling pieces of wood off with a formidable-looking knife, and letting them fall into the placid waters of the lake, whence they were blown away by little puffs of wind.
"Who is he?" asked Rose of Sylvia in a whisper as they came to the edge of the dock and looked with longing eyes--all four of the Nowadays Girls--at the boat.
"He's the skipper, caretaker, pilot, captain, whatever is the proper title for a man in his capacity on a motor boat."
"He looks like Charon," murmured Alice.
"Hush! He'll hear you, and he's very sensitive," admonished Sylvia.
"Do you know him?" Hazel wanted to know.
"I've talked with him. Don't you dare call him Charon, Alice. He'll begin inquiring who Mr. Charon was, and when we explain that he was the dog-faced ferryman of the underworld, why then he'll up and act mean. So don't make such allusions, if you are wise."
"Charon wasn't dog-faced," announced Hazel.
"Wasn't he? At any rate he wasn't a desirable acquaintance for a summer motor-boat cruise, so kindly cease to remember."
"In other words--forget it!" exclaimed Rose.
"What _are_ you girls talking about?" demanded Natalie, with one of her merry laughs.
"Oh, just nonsense!" said Sylvia. "But how do you like the boat?"
"It's a beauty!" exclaimed Alice, with sparkling eyes.
"And so complete!" declared Hazel. "May we really charter her?"
"I think it can be arranged," Sylvia answered. "We'll go aboard."
Meanwhile the sour-faced man was stolidly whittling away on the piece of soft pine wood. He seemed to put a deal of vindictiveness into his cuts and slashes, as though he were taking revenge on some enemy.
"Good morning," called Mistress Sylvia, with a bright and cheerful smile, while her companions, including the bride and groom, formed a little group back of her. "A beautiful day, isn't it?"
"For them as likes this weather," was the growled response, and the man never looked up, but went on whittling. Rose saw that he was cutting out a dagger--prophetic implement, perhaps.
"Oh, I think it's perfectly delightful," went on Sylvia.
"You do have such charming days up in the Adirondacks," added Alice, determined to do what she could to help Sylvia chase away the gloom from the dour one's countenance, for such, so Alice made a guess, was the intent of her chum.
"The sunshine is--er--so--er--sunshiny!" said Rose, a bit lamely.
"And the water is so wet!" finished Hazel, with a frank laugh.
The man looked up, for the first time, and grunted:
"Ugh!"
"How are you this morning, Mr. Wrack?" went on Sylvia.
"Oh, 'bout as well as I'll ever be, I expect," he said, dismally. "This bright sun hurts my eyes, and I'll be havin' hay-fever soon, I expect, which is one reason why I like rainy days best. The dust from the flowers don't fly so then, and I don't have to sneeze so often. But now, havin' to stay here with this boat until the land knows when, I don't know what will happen," and once more he cut savagely at the bit of wood, making the shavings fly.
"That's what we came to see you about," said Sylvia, sweetly. "We are thinking of hiring it."
"You be? Good!" The man seemed to undergo a Jekyll-Hyde transformation. His face lost the sour look, and he straightened up, throwing the half-completed dagger overboard. "I hope you do," he went on. "Since the party that did engage her disappointed me I haven't known what to turn my hand to. Will you really take her?"
"If we can come to terms," said Sylvia. "Our chaperon says we may plan a motor-boat trip. I have told her of the _Clytie_, and now we have come to see about it."
"Oh, I'll treat you right, lady. I'll treat you right!" exclaimed Mr. Wrack. He seemed a different person.
It developed that he was not the owner of the craft, but had been engaged to pilot it about Raquette Lake for a party of summer visitors, who chartered the boat from the owner, who had engaged Mr. Wrack. But the plans of the party could not be carried out, for a reason that would not interest us, and there was the prospect of the boat's being idle all summer.
"And I'd have been idle too," Mr. Wrack said, "for it's gettin' late in the season to hire out a motor boat and pilot to any advantage. But if you'll take her and me it won't be so bad. I'll make the price right. Mr. Harrison, who owns the _Clytie_, left her to me after them other folks backed out."
Sylvia and her girl chums were very practical if they were girls with the latest ideas in regard to fashion, dances and other amusements. They had liberal allowances, and they knew how to make them cover their needs. So it was not long before they had struck a bargain with Mr. Wrack. Aunt Theodora was again consulted and gave her consent, and it was arranged that they were to have the entire use of the boat for two weeks at least, and longer if they desired.
The Parsons were included in this bargain, and as they were to remain at Raquette Lake until late fall they had an option on the craft after our friends should have finished with her.
"And you go with the boat," said Sylvia to the sour-faced man, sour no longer now that he realised he would have employment. He did not even mention hay-fever, and he looked at the sun occasionally. "What I mean," went on Sylvia, "is that you'll run the boat for us when we want you to, and when we don't, we'll run it ourselves."
"Can you?" asked the pilot, doubtingly.
"Try us and see!" exclaimed Alice.
"Let's go for a run in her," suggested Hazel.
And so they started off. The girls' admiration for the _Clytie_ increased as they made a closer inspection.
"She certainly is a beauty!" declared Rose.
"Indeed, yes!" agreed Sylvia. "Self-starter, reverse gear, double ignition system, weedless propeller, electric lights and lots of room."
"Why, we could sleep here and cook here," added Alice.
There was a half-cabin, with bunks that made seats during the day. There was also a little alcohol stove and a tiny galley fitted with a small collection of cooking utensils.
"She was built to allow folks to spend a night or two out in her," said Mr. Wrack, as he sat at the wheel.
"Let me steer," begged Sylvia, and, having explained some of the peculiarities of the lake, and what danger-spots to avoid, the pilot did so. The _Clytie_ was of very light draught, to enable her to go in shallow water.
By turns the four girls operated the boat around the sunny waters of the lake, running over to Big Island and back again. Mr. Parson also showed that he knew how to handle the craft, but Natalie showed no desire to do so.
"I'd be sure to turn the wheel the wrong way, and send you all to the bottom," she declared.
"The bottom isn't far off right here," observed Mr. Wrack. "It's mighty shallow hereabouts."
The Nowadays Girls proved that they could manage a boat, to the not unexacting requirements of the pilot, after which he "took it easy" and let them do as they liked. They soon mastered the mechanical details.
A day or so after having chartered the _Clytie_, during which time Mrs. Brownley had made several trips about the lake, Sylvia proposed that she and her chums, with the Parsons, go for a trip by themselves--that is, without Mr. Wrack.
He was satisfied to allow this, as he realised that the girls were expert enough to look after themselves. So the trip--an all-day one, lunch to be taken on Osprey Island--was planned.
But at the last minute Aunt Theodora developed a headache, which, she well knew, would not be benefited by going out on the water in the sun.
"Oh, isn't it too bad!" exclaimed Sylvia. "Then----"
"Yes, you may go, my dears," said their kindly chaperon. "I know you can look after yourselves, and it's broad daylight. There are many craft on the lake, too. Just run along and have a good time. I'll be all right. I'll just lie down and rest."
And when Sylvia went to call for the Parsons, Natalie had most unaccountably forgotten the engagement, and she and her husband had gone off together in a canoe.
"Well, did you ever!" exclaimed Rose.
"Let's go by ourselves," suggested Hazel.
"We could get Mr. Wrack," said Alice, hesitatingly.
"No, I told him we wouldn't need him, and he went over to Forked Lake to see some friends. So if we go, we'll have to go by ourselves."
"Then let's go that way--just ourselves!" proposed Alice. "We have the boat, the lunch and everything. Let's go, and perhaps we may have an adventure!"