“GIRL OVERBOARD!”

“Don’t call out to her,” whispered Polly. “Wait here just a minute, while I climb down these rocks. This is the way she went, you can see her tracks.”

“Tracks, on a rocky path,” murmured Ted, helplessly. “Polly, where are they? I don’t see any?”

“Here, where the grass is trodden down. Now, don’t get frightened. Just wait for me.” Polly started down the rocky path, and at its base looked around cautiously. Not a living soul was in sight anywhere, but even while she hesitated, she saw Sue’s form come apparently out of the ground itself over in a rocky enclosure, well sheltered from wind and wave. Polly turned, called to the rest to follow, and ran ahead to join Sue.

“It’s a camp,” Sue said excitedly, as she reached her. “And there’s a real cave, Polly, and a bed in it, and dishes, and the bed’s just been slept in, and there’s a coffee pot in there that’s still warm.”

“Sue, I never knew you were such a splendid detective,” Polly answered, warmly. “Let’s drink the pirates’ coffee right away.”

But Ruth and Kate arrived and advised caution until they found out just what the mystery was.

“It’s probably only some fishermen,” said Nancy, in her matter-of-fact way. “Father’d be sure to know if any strangers had arrived and settled here.”

Polly started for the entrance to the cave.

“There may be somebody in there,” Ruth cried. “Please don’t go in.”

“There’s nobody at home,” Sue replied. “I’ve been in.”

It was a good-sized cave, Polly saw, as soon as she ventured into it. The floor was of finest sand. There was a bed, a very primitive bed, but yet a bed, made of branches of pine with blankets spread over them. Some boxes served as seats, and a ledge of rock as a shelf for some dishes. But Polly’s quick eyes noticed a couple of suitcases in one corner and sundry articles of clothing lying around such as no consistent smuggler or pirate would have deigned to don. When she came out into the sunlight and faced the girls, she was smiling.

“Do fishermen around here have books and magazines lying around in caves?” she asked. “There are all sorts of such things in this cave.”

“Well, anyway, Polly,” Kate put in, in her level-headed way, “whatever they have in there, we have no business going in and rummaging around, and they’ll very soon tell us so if they appear suddenly. I move that we vanish.”

The motion was carried unanimously, and the girls climbed the path back to the Castle.

“We can watch anyone who comes, from up here,” Polly said. “They’ll see the yachts anyway, and know they have visitors.”

“Maybe they have already,” Kate suggested. “Maybe that’s what ails them. Maybe they’ve seen us and have run away to hide.”

“Oh, such a hive of maybes,” laughed Ruth. “Still, maybe it’s so, Polly.”

The idea gave them fresh courage, and they hurried to the Castle, and hunted all over its ruins, enthusiastic over the outlook for adventure. But even when they had reached the topmost point and the entire island lay before them, not a sign of life did they detect. Save for their own pretty fleet, riding at anchor down in the cove, the shore was deserted, and not a single sound disturbed the air.

“I think whoever it is has gone fishing for his breakfast,” Nancy said, decidedly. “And it’s probably only some of the boys from the summer cottages or the hotel, having a little camp for a day or two. Let’s go along as if nothing had happened, and if they should come back, we’ll just tell them we came over to see the island and didn’t know it had any people on it.”

It seemed to be the only sensible thing to do, so the girls agreed. As Ruth said, in these days it was hardly likely there were pirates on the island, and a party of ordinary campers wouldn’t eat them up or open fire on them from any secret place. So in spite of their curiosity and natural uneasiness, the girls managed to spend a happy day. They dug clams and roasted them down on the beach for lunch, and even borrowed a few things from the cave outfit, pepper and salt, some forks, and an extra bottle of Chili sauce. With a plentiful supply of crackers, and all that Aunty Welcome had put into their lunch boxes besides, it was a feast. After it was over, the girls returned what they had borrowed, and placed a conspicuous sign on them, written by Polly:

“Dear Smuggler:

“Thank you for your pepper, salt and Chili sauce. We leave in return this jar of Aunty Welcome’s marmalade, and half a nut cake, and six crullers, and some hermits. Do you know what hermits are? We thought it would be appropriate to give you some.”

“Put in an invitation for him to come over and see us,” Ted added, after the six had stood off and regarded the sign critically. So Polly added down at the bottom,

“And we should be happy to entertain you at any time at the yacht club on Lost Island.”

“But what if he should come?” asked Isabel.

“He won’t,” retorted Polly, happily. “Smugglers aren’t a bit sociable. But if he should, we’ll survey him in the offing, and if he comes in a long, low rakish looking craft, we’ll all take to our heels, and run at once for Fair Havens. This is what grandfather would say was a courtly and polite thing to do after we had taken his Chili sauce, and it really was extra nice.”

Later Kate climbed to the top of the ruined tower again, and returned, after making a careful observation.

“When you were in the cave, Polly, did it seem to grow larger towards the interior?”

“I think so. I could stand up in it easily, and it arched at the back.”

“I don’t think it’s a cave at all. I was on a direct line with it up in the tower from the place where I stood, and I’m wondering if it isn’t a passage cut through to the tower to make a way of escape at some time.”

“Kate, I never thought that you were a romancer,” laughed Polly. “If it had been Isabel, we wouldn’t have been surprised, but for you—” she shook her head doubtfully. “I shouldn’t wonder if there were sea chests of gold, and all sorts of loot hidden away in there, but I’m not going in after them. Come on, girls. It’s after five, and the wind will die down soon.”

“I don’t see how we’re going to beat back against it, anyway,” Isabel said. “It’s blowing this way from the Knob instead of towards it.”

“Oh, we’ll get back some way,” Polly led the way down the rocks to the shore, and the rest followed. But it took some time to gather up the shells and seaweed they had collected, so that when they were ready to start the sun was sloping well down in the west, towards the back of Bald Bluff on the ocean shore.

Crullers had a hard time getting started. The other girls were well along on their course, before she left the shelter of the Cove, and even then, she failed to catch the puff of wind that should have carried her towards the inlet, where Polly said, they would tack, and cut across the bay in a triangle.

“I don’t see how you can do it, Polly,” Kate said doubtfully.

“The wind will change when the tide comes in,” Polly called. “We’ll be all right.”

“Oh, Polly, look at Crullers,” Sue cried, all at once, as she happened to glance back over her shoulder. “She’s off the course, and making for the open channel.”

The yachts were spread out like a line of geese, one behind the other, and Crullers’ was last of all. Polly stood up, one hand on her tiller, and looked back. Crullers was waving wildly and shouting something to them, but the wind carried her voice the other way. And the little, broad-keeled “cat” was taking her own pleasure, headed merrily for the open channel.

“Crullers, sit down and steer,” shouted Polly.

“I can’t,” cried Crullers, helplessly, “the wooden thing in the handle part of it’s broken.”

“Now what does she mean by that, the little lubber,” thought Polly. “It must be the pintle bolt. I’m glad she’s got three ring buoys in the locker.”

The other girls were dazed and couldn’t think what to do. Polly slackened her sail, and put about. As she passed the others, she called to them to keep along as they were and she would look after Crullers.

“I don’t see what she’s making all that noise about,” Sue exclaimed, as they heard Crullers calling to them, frantically. “That boat of hers wouldn’t sink if you jumped on it, and she’s got all those life preservers packed away in the lockers, and the buoys too. There’s no danger at all. She’s just scared.”

But suddenly there came a sound from the channel that made their blood chill, the long, hollow boom of a steamer’s signal.

“Polly! Polly! Polly!” cried poor Crullers, in agony, and then they saw her drop down in the boat, and cover her face with her hands.

“It’s the City of Portland coming in, Polly,” Kate shouted, with her hands up to her lips.

Polly shook her curls out of her face and nodded. “I’ll get her all right,” she called back.

One hand held the tiller firm and steady, the other had loosened the main sheet, and held it so as to get the benefit of every breath of wind. Her head was bending forward, her eyes half closed like the Captain’s, as they watched the squat little catboat ahead with Crullers crouching it.

The big boat whistled again, sharp long calls of direction, of which not one of the girls understood the meaning. Crullers stood up.

“Sit down,” called Polly, “sit down, and steady your boat, you little goose. Hold her off to windward, Crullers, not that way, towards the island, towards the island! Oh, can’t you hear anything? Loosen the main sheet, that rope right there at the end of your boom, and let the wind swing her about. Oh, dear, can’t you do what I say, Crullers?”

Crullers’ fingers fumbled over the main sheet. They were out in the channel now, with the Point of the Sickle lying at their right hand, and the lighthouse and station in plain sight. Just as Polly set her teeth, and tried to make straight for the other boat, the great white steamer, City of Portland, hove into sight, steaming up the channel. Then something that Polly had either read or heard flashed through her mind. A sailing vessel has the right of way. But Crullers did not know that, and when she saw that monster bearing straight down on her, all her courage and presence of mind left her. The one thing she did remember were the ring buoys in the lockers at the stern.

The Portland was blowing its whistle steadily now, and Polly called as she came near, “It’s all right, Crullers. They’re holding up to let us pass. Keep right along.”

Crullers was ahead, and did not seem to hear her, and just as she felt sure they would pass safely, she saw Crullers deliberately stand up in her rocking, unsteady little craft, with her two arms thrust to the shoulders through a couple of ring buoys, and another held fast in her hands. Her round, good-tempered face was blanched white, as she turned towards Polly.

“I’m going to jump, Polly!” she called out shakily.

“Don’t you dare to!” Polly cried, but her words had no effect. They were right in the path of the Portland, and under her great bow. The Captain was shouting something to them, as he leaned out over the bridge. Bells seemed to be ringing, and the rails were lined with tense, startled faces. Polly could hear some women screaming up on deck. The engines had stopped on the big boat, and she was drifting easily with the incoming tide towards the inlet. It seemed in that second of time as if everybody on the steamer was shouting out something different as Crullers jumped into the water.

There was hardly any sea on. The bay was beautiful in the soft golden glow before sunset. The tide had turned, and was coming in in long easy swells like the waves from the wake of a steamer. It seemed to Polly afterwards, when she looked back to that time, as if she saw everything in the visible universe in those few seconds. The big boat standing off, and booming, booming at them distractedly; Crullers’ little catboat, righting itself gallantly after her jump, and starting off on its own hook towards the Point; Crullers herself, looking so comical in spite of the tragic danger, with the ring buoys around her arms like a new fashion in sleeve puffs, and the third one hugged to her breast as she slipped under the water; and most vivid of all, perhaps, the Life Saving Station, where they evidently had been seen, for somebody was running back up the beach towards the low white building.

Then suddenly she saw Crullers’ taffy-colored pigtails, lank and drenched, and her face dripping and deathlike, as she came up. It seemed the easiest and most natural thing in the world to lean over and catch hold of the pigtails. Polly never thought of doing anything else, but as she did so, and Crullers caught hold of the Tidy Jane and was helped and pulled over into its cockpit, a great, swelling cheer went up from the decks of the Portland, and the captain swung off his cap in salute to the little Commodore of the Yacht Club, as she tumbled her drenched mate on the locker, and went back to steering.

The Jane came about handsomely, and the engines on the steamer started to throb. Then Polly glanced up, with one of her rare, frank smiles that won her so many friends, and waved her hand back to all the faces that seemed to smile at her, and at the big, burly Maine captain, who laughed as he shouted down to her:

“Well done, mate, well done!”