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The cook had been set to work on one of the pump crews.

The girls sat in the deck chairs and stared off across the rolling gray waters. There was no sign of any other vessel just then, but a dim rose color at the sea line showed where the sun would come up after a time.

"But a fog is blowing up from the south, too," said Amy. "See that cloud, Jess? My dear! Did you ever expect that we would be sitting here on Darry's yacht waiting for it to sink under us?"

"How can you!" exclaimed Jessie, aghast.

"Well, that is practically what we are doing," replied her chum. "Thank goodness I have had this cup of coffee, anyway. It braces me----"

"Even for drowning?" asked Jessie. "Oh! What is that, Amy?"

"It's a boat! It's a boat! Ship ahoy!" shrieked Amy, jumping up and dancing about, dropping the cup and saucer to smash upon the deck.

"It's a steamboat!" cried Darry Drew, from the deck above.

"Head for it if you can, Bob!" commanded Skipper Pandrick to the helmsman.

But before they could see what kind of craft the other was, the fog surrounded them. It wrapped the _Marigold_ around in a thick mantle.

They could not see ten yards from her rail.

"We don't even know if she is looking for us!" exclaimed Dr. Stanley.

"That is too bad--too bad."

"Whistle for it," urged Amy. "Can't we?"

"If we use the little steam left for the whistle, we will have to shut down the engines," declared Darry.

"This is a fine yacht--I don't think!" scoffed Burd Alling. "And none of you knows a thing about rescuing this boat and crew but me. Watch me save the yacht."

He marched forward and began to work the foot-power foghorn vigorously.

Its mournful note (not unlike a cow's lowing, as Jessie had said) reverberated through the fog. The sound must have carried miles upon miles.

But it was nearly an hour before they heard any reply. Then the hoarse, brief blast of a tug whistle came to their ears.

"_Marigold_, ahoy!" shouted a well-known voice across the heaving sea.

"Daddy!" screamed Jessie, springing up and dropping _her_ cup and saucer, likewise to utter ruin. "It's Daddy Norwood!"

The big tug wallowed nearer. She carried wireless, too, and the _Marigold's_ company believed, at once, that Jessie's message had been received aboard the _Pocahontas_.

"But--then--how did Daddy Norwood come aboard of her?" Jessie demanded.

This was not explained until later when the six passengers were taken aboard the tug and hawsers were passed from the sinking yacht to the very efficient _Pocahontas_.

"And a pretty penny it will cost, so the skipper says, to get her towed to port," Darry complained.

"Say!" ejaculated Burd, "suppose she didn't find us at all and we were paddling around in that boat and on the life raft? _That_ would take the permanent wave out of your hair, old grouch!"

The girls, however, and Dr. Stanley as well, begged Mr. Norwood to explain how he had come in search of the _Marigold_ and had arrived so opportunely.

"Nothing easier," said the lawyer. "When the operator at the lighthouse station got your message----"

"Oh, bully, Jess! You did it!" cried Amy, breaking in.

"Did you send that message, Jessie?" asked her father. "Well, I am proud of you. The operator came to the house and told me. Although his partner was sending the news of your predicament broadcast over the sea, he told me of the tug lying behind the island, and that it could be chartered.

"So," explained Mr. Norwood, "I left Drew to fortify the women--and little Henrietta--and went right over and was rowed out to the _Pocahontas_ by an old fisherman who said he knew you girls. I believe he pronounced you 'cleaners,' if you know what that means," laughed the lawyer.

"Henrietta, by the way, was doing incantations of some sort over the wind and weather when I left the bungalow. She said 'Spotted Snake'

could bring you all safe home."

"Bless her heart!" exclaimed Jessie.

That afternoon when the tug worked her way carefully into the dock near the bungalow colony on Station Island, Henrietta was the first person the returned wanderers saw on the shore to greet them. She was dancing up and down and screaming something that Jessie and Amy did not catch until they came off the gangplank. Then they made the incantation out to be:

"That Ringold one can't have my island--so now! The court says so, and Mr. Drew says so, too. He just got it off the telephone and he told me.

It's my island--so there!"

"Why, how glad I am for you, dear!" cried Jessie, running to hug the excited little girl.

"Come ashore! Come ashore! All of you!" cried Henrietta, with a wide gesture. "I invite all of you. This is my island, not that Ringold's.

You can come on it and do anything you like!"

"Why, Henrietta!" murmured Jessie, as the other listeners broke into laughter. "You must not talk like that. I am glad the courts have given you your father's property. But remember, there are other people who have rights, too."

"Say! That Ringold one--and that Moon one--haven't any prop'ty on this island, have they?" Henrietta demanded.

"No."

"Then that's all right," said the little girl with satisfaction. "I'll be good, Miss Jessie; oh, I'll be good!" and she hugged her friend again.

"And don't call them 'that Ringold one' and 'that Moon one,' Henrietta.

That is not pretty nor polite," admonished Jessie.

"All right, if you say so, Miss Jessie. What you say goes with me. See?"

It took some time, after they were at home, for everything to be talked over and all the mystery of the radio message to be cleared up. The interested operator from the lighthouse came over to congratulate Jessie on what she had done. After all, aside from the girl's addressing the station by name, the message had not been hard to understand. And considering the faulty construction of the yacht's wireless and the weakness of her batteries, Jessie had done very well indeed.

The young people, of course, would have much to talk about regarding the adventure for days to come. Especially Darry. When he learned what he would have to pay for the towing in of the yacht and what it would cost to put in proper engines and calk and paint the hull, he was aghast and began to figure industriously.

"Learning something, aren't you, Son?" chuckled Mr. Drew. "Your Uncle Will pretty near went broke keeping up the _Marigold_. But I will help you, for I am getting rather fond of the old craft, too."

"We all ought to help," said Mr. Norwood. "I sha'n't want you to scrap the boat, Darry, my boy. I like to think that it was my Jessie saved her from sinking--and saved you all. To my mind radio is a great thing--something more than a toy even for these boys and girls."

"Quite true," Mr. Drew agreed. "When your Jessie and my Amy first strung those wires at Roselawn I thought they were well over it if they didn't break their limbs before they got it finished. When we get back home I think Darry and I would better put up aerials and have a house-set, too.

What say, Darry?"

"I'm with you, Father," agreed the young collegian. "But I won't agree to rival Jess and Amy as radio experts. For those two girls take the palm."

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