A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays Part 13

"Then, if you will permit me to take an oar I will go back with you and call upon your goodly company. Whose is the yacht, did you say?"

"Clem McAllister's."

"Son of Davis McAllister? Why, I know his father well, and his father is on board, too, I believe you said. A double reason for my going." He hurried off to speak to his wife while Ben and the three little girls continued the conversation.

"What do you think we saw in the water last night?" Ben asked them.

"Oh what?" they asked in a breath. "Was it a whale?" said Jennie.

"No."

"Not a man? Oh, Ben, was it, and had he fallen overboard?"

"No, it wasn't a man."

"Then maybe it was a shark." This from Dorothy. "I'd hate to see a shark; it would scare me to death."

"It wasn't a shark."

"Then perhaps it was only a porpoise. They do come in quite near sometimes," Jennie ventured this.

"No, it was nothing of a fishy nature."

"Then we can't guess. Tell us, Ben," Edna begged.

"All give it up?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"It was a--" he paused and looked impressively at each one, "a--I hardly know how to describe it, for it seemed to be amphibious, having once lived on land, and yet I doubt if it will live there ever again."

"Do you mean it will never be on land again?" Dorothy asked.

"I didn't say that. I said I doubted its ever living on land. I really don't see how it could, though of course it might possibly be there.

This is a case when there is a difference between being and living."

"What was it doing when you saw it?" asked Jennie.

"It was headed for the harbor, I should say."

"Then it might have been a s.h.i.+p or a boat." Jennie began to think she was getting some light.

"You are a very clever child, Miss Ramsey, but your intuitions fail you upon this occasion."

"Then we give it up. We did give it up, Ben, you know, and then you started us guessing again. What was it?"

"It was about five feet long, I should judge," Ben went on thoughtfully, and as if he had no idea of their having stopped guessing. "Its body was reared some distance above the water, but it was making its way very successfully, I thought."

"It was a dog!" cried Edna triumphantly.

"Of course it was," echoed the others.

Ben heaved a long sigh. "How mistaken persons can be when they are sure they are right. I admit that if I were writing about this object you might think I was writing about a dog, but I wouldn't be because it was not a dog."

"Then it was a horse or some kind of animal." Dorothy was very sure of this.

Ben slowly shook his head. "On the wrong track, my dear Dorothy."

"But you said it had lived on land, though you doubted if it ever would do so again."

"Yes, verily, so said I."

"Then we won't guess any more, will we girls? We gave it up and it has to stay given up."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Oh, we're not particular," replied Dorothy, with a little toss of her head.

"Oh, well, then," said Ben, "I won't bother myself to tell you." He picked up the morning paper as if the last word had been said on the subject.

"Ben Barker, you are just the worst tease," said Edna, tousling his hair. "You've just got to tell us after rousing our curiosity."

"Oh, I am willing to tell you if you really want to know, but I thought you didn't. It was a large piece of driftwood."

"Oh, you mean, mean thing!" Edna began to pommel him with her fist and the others joined in.

"See here," cried Ben, "three against one isn't fair, is it, Mr.

Ramsey?" he appealed to that gentleman who just then came in.

Mr. Ramsey laughed. "I see it is high time to come to your rescue. Are you ready? If so, I am at your service."

Ben shook himself free of the little girls, picked them up one after another and tossed them in a heap among the cus.h.i.+ons of the divan, then strode off in Mr. Ramsey's wake.

The girls, laughing and squealing, crawled out from the cus.h.i.+ons to run after the departing figures, but these had already gone too far to be overtaken and they returned to watch them row off.

In about an hour they were back again, bringing a third person. It was Edna who first caught sight of the approaching boat. "I see the boat coming," she sang out, "and there are three persons in it. Oh, girls, I know who is coming; it is Uncle Justus. I know him by his whiskers and his eyebrows, though he isn't wearing a hat, but a funny cap. Do come and see."

"Let's go down to the landing and meet them," proposed Jennie.

This was at once agreed upon and the three little girls went flying across the sands, so as to be on hand when the boat should come up. It seemed very queer to see Uncle Justus in yachting cap and flannels when he had always appeared in most severe dress, and never on any occasion wore such a frivolous thing as a cap. He appeared to have thrown off some of his dignity, too, for he stepped ash.o.r.e with much agility and actually ran up the long board landing to meet Edna.

"Well, well, well, little girl," he cried, "isn't this a great meeting?"

"It is just fine," returned Edna. "I am mighty glad to see you, Uncle Justus. Are you glad to see me?"

"Not a doubt of it. Did you ever expect to see your old uncle sporting around with a lot of college boys? I am continually surprising myself by saying or doing something I had forgotten, and which belongs properly to youth. They are a great set, those college boys."

By this time Jennie and Dorothy had come up and were given hearty greetings. Professor Horner in the character of a yachtman was rather a different person from the grave and severe schoolmaster whose school they attended. As for Edna, she was so divided between her desire to be with her favorite cousin Ben and with Uncle Justus, of whom she was very fond, that she swung between her two desires like a pendulum till Ben caught her and pretended he was going to throw her overboard because she would not walk with him up to the house. By the time this pretended squabble was over Uncle Justus was well ahead with Mr.

Ramsey, so the three little girls attended Ben like satellites.