They heard Amy and Burd shouting back of the bungalow, and they responded to their cries.
"Did you find that young Indian?" cried Burd.
"You've hit it. This little squaw should be named 'Plenty Trouble'
rather than 'Spotted Snake, the Witch.'"
"Why," said Henrietta, sleepily, "_I_ never have any trouble--of course I don't."
It was about as Jessie said, however: They were never confident that the freckled little girl was all right save when she was asleep. She had bread and milk and went right to bed when they got home with her. Then the evening was a busy one for the quartette of older young folks.
The radio set was put into place in the library of the bungalow. They had brought the two-step amplifier and proposed to use that for most of their listening in, rather than the headphones. Although Darry and Burd helped in this preliminary work, the girls really knew more about the adjustment of the various parts than the college youths.
But in the morning Darry and Burd strung the wires and completed the antenna. The house connection was made and the ground connection. By noon all was complete and after lunch Jessie opened the switch and they got the wave-length of a New York broadcasting station and heard a brief concert and a lecture on advertising methods that did not, in truth, greatly interest the girls.
After that they tuned in and caught the Stratfordtown broadcasting. They recognized Mr. Blair's voice announcing the numbers of the afternoon concert program.
But radio did not hold the attention of these young people all the time, although they had all become enthusiasts. They were at the seashore, and there were a hundred things to do that they could not do at home in Roselawn. The sands were smooth, the surf rolled in white ruffles, and the cool green and blue of the sea was most attractive. One of the safest bathing beaches bordering Station Island was directly in front of the bungalow colony.
At four o'clock they were all in their bathing suits and joined the company already in the surf or along the sands. In any summer colony acquaintanceships are formed rapidly. Jessie and Amy had already seen some girls of about their own age whom they liked the looks of, and they were glad to see them again at the bathing hour.
"Is it a perfectly safe beach?" Mrs. Norwood asked, and was assured by her husband that so it was rated. There were no strong currents or undertows along this shore. And, in any case, there was a lifeguard in a boat just off shore and another patrolling the sands.
"I ain't afraid!" proclaimed Henrietta, dashing into the water immediately. "Come on, Miss Jessie! Come on, Miss Amy, you won't get drowned at my island."
"What a funny little thing she is," said one of the friendly girls who overheard Henrietta. "Does she think she owns Station Island?"
"That is exactly what she does think," said Amy, grimly.
"I never!" drawled the girl. "And there is a girl up at the hotel who talks the same way. At least, when she was down here yesterday she said her father owns all this part of Station Island and is going to have the bungalows torn down."
Jessie and Amy looked at each other with understanding.
"I guess I know who that girl is," said Amy quickly. "It's Belle Ringold."
"Yes. Her name is Ringold," said their new acquaintance. "Do you suppose it is so--that her father can drive us all out of the cottages? You know, we have already paid rent for the season."
CHAPTER XII--A DOUBLE RACE
Amy Drew scoffed at the thought of Belle Ringold's tale of trouble for the "bungalowites" being true.
"She is always hatching up something unpleasant," she told the neighbor who had spoken of Mr. Ringold's claim to a part of Station Island. "We know her. She comes from our town."
But little Henrietta continued to tell anybody who would listen that _she_ owned a part of the island and expected to take possession of the golf links almost any day. The funny little thing, however, was very generous in inviting people to remain on "her island," no matter what happened.
"Something has got to be done about that child," said Jessie, sighing.
"I can't control her. She does say the most awful things. She has no manners at all!"
"He, he," chuckled Amy. "Hen was built without any controller. I wouldn't worry about her, Jess. She'll come out all right."
"I hope she comes out of the water all right," murmured her chum, starting again after the very lively little girl who occasionally made dashes for the surf as though she proposed to go right out to sea.
But for one person Henrietta had some concern. That was Mrs. Norwood.
She thought Jessie's mother was a most wonderful person. And when Mrs.
Norwood had a chair and umbrella brought to the sands and sat down within sight of Henrietta, the older girls had some opportunity of having a little amusement with the college boys.
"Come on," Darry Drew said. "This staying inshore is no fun. Beat you to the raft, girls, and give you ten yards start."
"O-oh! You can't!" cried his sister, dashing at once for the sea.
"Hold on! Hold on!" commanded Darry. "I don't believe you even know how long ten yards is. Both you girls go in and stand even with that pile yonder. You are headed for the raft. You see the life saver beyond it, I hope?"
Amy made a face at him, settled her bathing cap more firmly, and looked at Jessie.
"Ready, Jess?" she asked.
"We'll just beat them good," declared her chum. "They always think they can do things so much better than us girls."
"'We' girls," corrected Amy, giggling.
"'We' or 'us'--it doesn't so much matter, as long as we win the race,"
said Jessie.
"All ready out there?" demanded Darry.
"They're edging out farther," observed Burd Alling. "It wouldn't matter if you gave them a mile start; they'd take more if they could. Give 'em an inch and they'll take an ell," he quoted.
"You don't know what an ell is," scoffed his friend.
"It's something you put on a house after you think you've got all the rooms you'll ever need. I know," declared Burd, grinning.
"Come on out!" retorted Darry. "Cut the repartee. You have got to swim your little best, for those two girls are no slow-pokes."
"You've said something," agreed Burd. "Shoot! I am ready, Gridley."
"Huh!" exclaimed his chum. "You have even forgotten your Spanish War history."
"Shucks! They change history so fast now you don't more than learn one phase than you have to forget it and learn some other fellow's 'hindsight' of important events. The only way to get history straight,"
declared the philosophical Burd, "is to be Johnny-on-the-spot and see things happen."
"Now!" shouted Darry to the girls.
The four splashed in, the girls starting with a breast stroke and the boys having to run for some distance until the sea was deep enough to enable them to swim. The water beyond the ruffle of surf was almost calm. At least, the waves did not break, but heaved in, in smooth rollers. As Amy had said: The sea was taking deep-breathing exercises.
Just now, however, she was not making jokes. The two girls were doing their best to win the race. Darry was a long, rangy fellow, and his over-hand stroke was wonderful. Burd Alling--"tubby" as he was--was an excellent swimmer. The girls started with a dash, however, and they kept up their speed for some rods before either felt any fatigue.