Part 38 (2/2)
”We'll know who it is soon,” says Vee, turnin' the wheel.
Five minutes later and we got a reply to our horn--four long blasts.
”That means distress,” says Vee. ”Answer with three short ones.”
A mile or so further on, as we swings wide around the end of an island where a shoal sticks out, we comes in sight of this big motor-boat lyin' quiet a couple of hundred feet off-sh.o.r.e with three people in it.
”There they are, thank goodness!” says Vee, shuttin' off the engine and lettin' the boat drift in towards 'em slow.
”h.e.l.lo, there!” I calls out.
”That you, Torchy?” asks Old Hickory, anxious.
”Yep!” says I. ”Me and Vee.”
”Bully for you youngsters!” says he. ”I might have known it would be you two who would find us.”
”Verona, I am astonished,” gasps Auntie.
”Yes, I thought you would be,” says Vee. ”What's the matter?”
”Matter!” snaps Auntie. ”We're stuck in the mud, and have been for hours. Look out or you'll run aground, too.”
But our boat wasn't half the size of theirs, and by polin' careful we got alongside.
My first move is to reach a handful of cigars to the boss.
”Heaven be praised!” says he, lightin' one up eager.
Meanwhile Vee is pourin' out some hot coffee from the picnic bottles.
That and the sandwiches seemed to sort of soothe things all around, and we got a sketch of their troubles.
Just as Vee had suspected, Rupert had started out to show 'em the island where the treasure was. Oh, he was sure he could take 'em right to it.
”And we went blithering and blundering around for half the night,” says Old Hickory, ”until this marvel of marine intelligence ran us hard and fast aground here, where we've been ever since.”
”I--I got turned around,” protests Rupert.
”We admit that,” says Old Hickory. ”I will even concede that you are swivel-brained and couldn't help it. But that fails to explain why you should invent for our benefit any such colossal whopper as that treasure-island fiction.”
”No fiction about it,” grumbles Rupert, his voice a bit husky, either from indignation or chicken sandwich, we couldn't tell which. ”And I'll find it yet,” he adds.
”You will have ample opportunity,” says Old Hickory, ”for when we leave here you will be left also. You may make a life job of it, if you wish.”
”We ought to be getting back,” says Auntie. ”Will that little boat hold us all?”
”Why, this one is afloat now,” announces Vee. ”The tide must have come in.”
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