The Motor Girls on the Coast: or, The Waif From the Sea

The boys and girls trudged down to the beach through sand that clung to their feet. They could see the life-savers getting their apparatus in order, and near them were huddled some men–evidently sailors.

“Those are the men who were rescued from the ship,” said Rosalie. “There are more on board, and some passengers, I heard. Some women and children, too!”

“How terrible!” gasped Belle. “Oh, I don’t see how any one can take a long voyage. I am so afraid of the water.”

“I don’t blame you–not when it acts this way,” spoke Eline. “It makes me shudder!”

The big green waves seemed to be reaching hungrily out for those on the strand, as though not satisfied with having wrecked the ship. The waters fairly flung themselves at the men whose seemingly puny efforts were being directed to save those yet remaining on board.

“Is the ship’s captain among them?” asked Walter, pointing to the group of sailors.

“No, indeed!” exclaimed Rosalie. “He’ll be the last one to leave. They’re always like that. My father was a captain once,” and she seemed proud of the fact, though now she was glad that her father was safe in the staunch lighthouse.

“That’s so, I forgot,” remarked Walter. “The captain is always the last to leave.”

“But I thought women and children came first in a rescue at sea,” suggested Ed.

“The women and girls–I heard there were some girls,” went on Rosalie, “wouldn’t get in the boat. They were afraid. Of course the breeches buoy is safer, but look how they have to wait. She may go to pieces any time now.”

“It’s dreadful,” said Cora, in a low voice.

She and her companions drew closer to where the life-savers were at work. The boys and girls were wet, for the rain penetrated through coats, and umbrellas were impossible. But they did not mind this, and Mrs. Chester had promised to have hot coffee for them when they got back to the bungalow. She had refused to go out to look at the wreck.

“I just couldn’t bear it!” she had exclaimed with a shudder.

The guards were burying in the sand a heavy anchor to which the main rope of the breeches buoy would be fastened. The other end would be made fast to the highest part of the ship, so that the person being pulled ashore in the carrier would be as far above the waves as possible. The three masts had been broken off, but the jagged stump of one stuck up, and could be seen when there came a momentary lull in the rain.

It was not very cold, though much of the heat of summer had been dissipated in the cool rain.

“If it was winter, how terrible it would be,” said Eline. “Sometimes I have seen lake steamers just a mass of ice.”

“Yes, there is something to be thankful for,” Cora agreed. “Oh, they are going to fire, I think.”

She pointed to where some of the men were setting the mortar, or small cannon, which is discharged to send a line to stranded ships. The mortar fires a long, round piece of iron, to which is fastened a light, but strong, line. When this falls aboard the vessel a stronger rope is hauled from shore by means of it.

“Yes, they’re going to shoot!” agreed Jack. “They must have trouble keeping their powder dry.”

Bess covered her ears with her hands and cried:

“Oh, if they’re going to fire I’m going to run!”

“Silly! It won’t make much noise!” exclaimed Norton. “They don’t use a heavy charge.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to – ”

But Bess did not have time to do anything, for at that moment the captain pulled the lanyard that set off the mortar. The report was loud enough, though partly smothered by the storm.

“It fell short!” exclaimed Rosalie, who was watching intently. “See, it fell into the water!”

“Does that mean they can’t make the rescue?” asked Belle, in an awed voice.

“Oh, no, they’ll fire again,” answered Rosalie.

A guard was hauling in on the line, which had the weight attached to it. Soon it was in the mortar again, the line coiled beside it in a box in a peculiar manner to prevent tangling.

Once more the shot was fired.

“There it goes! It’s going to land this time!” shouted Rosalie in her excitement. A shout from the group of rescued seamen, in which the life guards joined, told that the shot had gone true.

Then began a busy time–not that the men had not worked hard before. But there was need of much haste now, for it was feared the vessel would break up. Quickly the heavy line was sent out and made fast. Then the breeches buoy was rigged, and in a little while a woman was hauled in from the wreck.

“Poor thing!” murmured Cora. “We must help her. She is drenched.”

“Yes, we must do something!” cried Belle.

“We’ll take her up to our kitchen,” proposed Rosalie. “There’s a good fire there, and I’ll make coffee.”

The woman was helped out of the buoy, and the motor girls went to her assistance. She seemed very grateful. She was the wife of one of the mates, and he was not yet rescued.

“I will stay here until Harry comes ashore!” she declared, firmly.

“And you know he won’t come, Mrs. Madden, until the rest of the women is saved,” explained one of the seamen. “Go with the young ladies. That is best,” and she finally consented.

In a short time several other women and two girls came ashore, one much exhausted. But by this time a physician had arrived, and he attended to her in the lighthouse.

Then the remainder of the sailors were brought from the wreck, the first one to get ashore reporting that no more women or girls remained aboard.

“There was one girl,” he said, “but she seems to have disappeared.”

“Washed overboard?” asked Cora, with a gasp.

“I’m afraid so, miss. It’s a terrible storm.”

Finally the captain himself was hauled off, and he landed amid cheers from the brave men who had helped save him. He said the vessel was now abandoned, and would not last another hour. In less than that time the wreck was observed to have changed its position.

Then amid the upheaval of the mighty seas the ship broke in two and was soon pounded into shreds of wood by the terrible power of the storm-swept ocean.

The shipwrecked ones were cared for among the different fishermen, some staying in the lighthouse and some in the quarters of the life-savers. The storm kept up harder than ever, and soon Cora and her friends decided that it would be unwise to stay out longer in it. So they sought their bungalows.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE FLOATING SPARS

Calm followed after the storm. The sea was sullen, and great waves broke on the beach, but the rain had ceased, and the wind had almost died out. But the tide heaved and seemed to moan, as though in sorrow for what it had done.

It was the morning after the wreck, and Cora and the girls had gone to the lighthouse to look out over the ocean. All vestige of the schooner had disappeared. The sea had eaten her up.

“Where are the boys?” asked Eline, as she walked along beside Bess. The girls had on rather make-shift garments, for they had become so drenched in the rain that their clothes needed drying.

“I guess they are–pressing their trousers,” remarked Cora. “Jack said he was going to, anyhow.”

“Vain creatures!” mocked Bess.

“I noticed you doing your hair up more elaborately than usual,” remarked Belle, with a glance at her sister.

“Oh, well, no wonder. It looked frightful–all wet as it was.”

“Vain creatures–all of us,” murmured Cora.

“Then the boys won’t be out for some time,” suggested Eline.

“I think not,” answered Jack’s sister. “I wonder what has become of all the shipwrecked people?”

“A good many of them went on to New York last night,” said Belle. “I met Rosalie early this morning and she said only two of the women were over at her place now. How did so many women, and those girls, come to be on the schooner?”

“It was a sort of excursion party,” explained Cora. “The schooner had an auxiliary gasoline engine. The company that owns it does a small freight business, and also takes passengers who like to go for a cruise. It seems that a party was made up, and tickets sold. Quite a number of women and girls, as well as some men, went along.”

“I guess they are sorry they did,” said Belle. “Oh, the dreadful sea. I’m never going in bathing again.”

“Oh, it’s safe in Sandy Point Cove,” exclaimed Eline.

“I wonder what happened to the missing girl?” asked Bess.

“Missing girl?” echoed Belle.

“Yes. Didn’t you hear one of the sailors say a girl was missing–perhaps swept overboard?”

“Oh yes! Poor thing!” and Cora sighed. “She may be–out–there!” and she waved her hand to the heaving ocean.

The girls were on the beach where the rescue had been made. The waves were still pounding away, but a life-guard who went past on his patrol remarked:

“She’ll be down a lot by night.”

“Were any of your friends hurt?” asked Belle.

“Working yesterday, you mean, miss?”

“Yes.”

“No. Bill Smith got his hand jammed a bit, but that was all. We get used to rough treatment.”

“I suppose so. The sea is very rough–it’s cruel.”

“Not always, miss. If you could see it–as I often do–all blue under the sun, and shimmering like–like your hair, miss, if I may be so bold, and with the gulls wheeling about, and dipping down into it–why, miss, you’d say the sea was beautiful–that’s it–just beautiful.”

“Oh, but it’s so often the other way–terrible–hideous!” murmured Belle, who seemed strangely affected.

“No, miss, begging your pardon. Even in a storm I love the sea. It it’s just grand, miss!”

“Well, I’m glad you can think so. I can’t. It makes me–shiver!” and a fit of trembling seized her.

The girls walked on. Some refuse–bits of wood and part of the cargo from the wreck–was coming ashore. The girls continued on down the strand, now and then venturing too close to the water, and being compelled to run back when a higher wave than usual rushed up the shingle.

“I wonder if we couldn’t go out in the boat?” spoke Cora at length.

“Don’t you dare suggest such a thing–to me!” cried Belle. “I’ll never go out again–after that terrible wreck!”

“But I don’t mean out on the ocean,” said Cora. “I mean just around the cove. It isn’t at all rough there, and you won’t mind it a bit.”

“Do come!” begged Eline.

“There isn’t a bit of danger,” urged Bess. “Why, you’ve often been out when there was more sea than this.”

“But not so soon after a wreck.”

“What has that to do with it?” Cora wanted to know. “The wreck is over. It wasn’t a bad one, except that the ship was lost. All the people were saved. I think it was wonderful.”

“All but that poor girl,” murmured Belle.

“Well, we can’t even be sure there was such a person,” remarked Eline. “It was only a rumor, and really, Rosalie said the captain could account for everyone.”

“You never can tell when there are a number of people,” supplemented Cora. “Perhaps this girl had her name down on the list, and, after all, did not go. Then, when she was looked for, and not found, they jumped to the conclusion that she had gone overboard. I’ve often read of such cases.”

“So have I,” declared Bess. “Come on, Belle. Let’s go for a ride. It will do us all good.”

“Oh, well, I don’t want to be a spoil-sport I’ll go; but, Cora, dear, you must take along a couple of life preservers.”

“A dozen if you like, Belle.”

“And you’ll promise not to go outside the bay–you’ll stay where it’s calm?”

“I promise!” exclaimed Cora, raising her right hand.

Rosalie came out of the lighthouse in her bathing suit.

“That girl fairly lives in the water,” said Eline.

“If I could swim as she does I would too,” spoke Bess.

“Hello!” called Rosalie, genially. “Isn’t it lovely after the storm?”

“Yes,” said Cora. “Have they heard anything more about the missing girl?”

“No. And no one seems to know who she was. Are you going for a spin?”

“We thought of it. Would you like to come?”

“I’d just love it! Only I haven’t time to change, perhaps, and I don’t want to – ”

“Come just as you are–in your bathing suit,” invited Cora, and Rosalie did.

The boys must have finished pressing their trousers, or attending to whatever part of the personal attire needed attention, for when the girls got back to the float, and were getting the Pet in shape for a spin, Jack and Ed hurried down to look over the Duck. Both boats needed pumping out, for the water had rained in, and Walter and Norton were good enough to attend to this tiresome work for the girls.

Soon the two craft were moving over the sparkling waters of the Cove, which seemed to be trying to make up for what the sea had done the day before.

The boats kept close together, and talk and gay laughter passed back and forth. Then Jack and his chums, declaring they were going to see how far out toward the sea they could venture with safety, speeded up and left Cora and the girls in the Pet somewhat behind. But they did not mind–in fact, Belle insisted on keeping in safe waters. Nor was Cora averse to this.

The girls had been cruising about for perhaps an hour when Eline called:

“What is that over there?”

She pointed to a dark mass on the surface of the bay. Rosalie stood up to look.

“It’s a lot of spars lashed together,” she reported. “A sort of raft. Maybe it is from the wrecked vessel.”

“Then if it’s a raft there is some one on it!” cried Eline.

CHAPTER XXIV

SAFE ASHORE

“It’s a girl!”

It was Cora who said this as the motor boat drew close to the floating logs.

“A girl!” echoed Belle.

“Yes; can’t you see her long hair?”

All the girls were standing up–even Cora, who had to bend over to maintain her grip on the steering wheel. They all peered anxiously toward the floating object.

Certainly that was a figure on it–a figure of a girl–sea-drenched and washed over by each succeeding wave.

“She’s tied fast to that raft!” cried Bess.

“And her head is up on a sort of box–that keeps her mouth out of the water,” added Eline. “Oh, but she looks – ”

“Don’t say it!” commanded Cora, sharply, and Eline stopped.

“Oh, if only the boys were here!” breathed Bess. “They could help us–help her,” and she motioned to the limp figure on the raft.

“We don’t need the boys!” exclaimed Cora, sharply. “We can make the rescue ourselves. That is if – ”

“Don’t say it!” commanded Eline, thus “getting back” at Cora.

“Oh, do steer over there!” begged Bess, as Cora did not seem to be bringing the motor boat quickly enough toward the raft of spars. “We must get to her!”

“I am going to,” answered Cora.

“Oh, do you suppose she can be from the wreck?” asked Belle.

“I think very likely,” spoke Cora.

“Those spars–they are from the ship,” declared Rosalie. “They are broken pieces of the masts, perhaps. Some one must have made a raft before the vessel broke up, and she lashed herself to it. I have often heard my father tell of such things.”

“Oh, do get her, Cora!” exclaimed Belle, clasping her hands.

“Don’t go too close,” warned the lighthouse maid. “Some of those spars have jagged ends, and a bump would mean a hole in your boat, Miss Kimball.”

“Don’t, for mercy’s sake!” voiced Bess, clutching Cora’s arm.

“And don’t you do that to my arm or I can’t steer,” came the retort. “I’ll be careful.”

As the motor boat came nearer the girls could see more plainly the figure on the raft. It was that of a young girl, with light hair, that was now darkened by the sea water. She seemed to have wrapped herself in some blankets, or rugs, tying them about her waist, and then had lashed herself fast to the spars, or some seaman had done it for her.

She sat with her head against a box, which seemed to be nailed to the raft, and several turns of rope were passed about this in such a manner as to maintain the girl in a half-reclining position.

The waves broke over the lower part of her body, but her head was out of the water, though whether this had been the case when the raft was in the open sea was a question. Clearly much water must have washed over the raft, and perhaps the buffeting of the waves had rendered her unconscious.

“Look out!” warned Rosalie, as Cora sent the boat in a graceful sweep toward the raft. “Don’t go any nearer.”

“But we must save her!”

“Then let me try. I’ll dive overboard and swim to the raft. Then I can loosen the ropes and we’ll see what can be done toward getting her aboard. But be careful of your boat.”

It was good advice and Cora followed it. Rosalie stood on the stern, poised for a moment as Cora cut down the speed, and then gracefully dived overboard.

Up she came, shaking the water from her eyes, and struck out for the raft

“She’s alive–and–that’s all!” called Rosalie to the girls in the motor boat, as she bent over the one on the raft. “We must get her to a doctor quick!”

“How can we get her into the boat?” asked Cora.

“I’ll loosen the ropes, and then you can come up on this side. The spars are smooth here and your boat won’t be damaged!”

“Poor creature!” murmured Belle, as she watched Rosalie in her dripping bathing suit bending over the girl on the raft.

The ropes were soon loosed, and then, with no small skill, Cora brought the Pet alongside the raft. It was not an easy matter to get the limp and unconscious figure into the boat, but the girls managed it.

“Now for shore and the doctor!” cried Eline.

“Here is her valise,” called Rosalie, casting loose a rope that held a small suit case to the raft. “May as well take that, but I guess the things in it are pretty well soaked. She must have been adrift ever since the wreck went to pieces.”

She tossed the bag into the boat, and clambered in herself. Then Cora steered away from the raft, as Belle started the motor. They covered the rescued girl with her own wet rugs–it was all they could do. She was breathing–that was all.

Half an hour later they were safe ashore, and two fishermen on the beach had carried the girl up to the bungalow. A doctor was telephoned for in haste.

CHAPTER XXV

A SURPRISE

“Poor, poor girl!” murmured Cora. She was bending over the unknown who had been rescued from the raft. The girl lay in a stupor on a couch in the living room, having been made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, the girls having ministered to her with the aid of Mrs. Chester.

“I wonder who she can be?” said Belle.

“We shall have to interview some of those who were saved from the wreck,” spoke Bess. “One or two of the women, and two of the men are still here, staying with some of the fishermen, I think.”

“They might know,” remarked Eline, “but if we could look at the passenger list that would tell.”

“Where could we get it?” asked Cora.

“The captain may have saved it, but of course he is gone. Perhaps he took it with him.”

“I’ll ask my father,” said Rosalie. “The captain may have left it, or a copy of it, at the lighthouse. I’ll ask Daddy.”

The lighthouse maid had gotten out of her bathing suit on the arrival of the motor boat in the cove, and, in her ordinary attire had come over to the bungalow where the rescued girl was still in a state of unconsciousness.

“That will be a good idea,” said Cora. “I wish you would. But I don’t see why that doctor doesn’t hurry. Perhaps we had better telephone again.”

“I’ll do it,” offered Belle. “But perhaps we ought to try and revive her ourselves–some ammonia–” and she looked at Cora questioningly.

“I had rather not,” was the answer. “We don’t know what injury we might do her. She may have been struck on the head, or something like that. I had rather a doctor would examine her. Poor creature. Who can she be?”

No one could tell. The strange girl was pretty, and her light brown hair, now drying out, clustered around her pale face that looked so much like death that the motor girls were greatly affected by it.

“Her people must be terribly worried about her,” said Eline, softly. “Just think of it! They will read of the wreck in the newspapers, and see the list of those saved. Her name will not be among them, and they will think her drowned.”

“That is so,” agreed Cora. “Oh, why doesn’t that doctor hurry? If we could revive her she would tell her name and we could notify her folks. I’ve a good notion – ”

Cora started for the telephone just as the bell rang. Cora snapped the receiver down from the hook.

“Yes–yes!” the others heard her say eagerly. “Oh, that is too bad! Your car has broken down while you were coming here? Yes, of course we want you! We have a strange case here. Wait! I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll come for you in my own car!”

Cora turned to her friends.

“Just think of it!” she cried. “Dr. Brown’s car broke down while he was on his way here. He’s over at Siconset and I’ll go over and get him.”

“Then take our car!” suggested Bess. “It’s just been filled with oil and gasoline. Yours may not have any in.”

“I will, thank you. You come with me, Bess; Belle and Eline can look after things until we get back. It isn’t far.”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Belle. “What–what will I do if she wakes up?”

“Oh, don’t be nervous!” exclaimed Cora, vigorously. “If she comes to her senses so much the better. Get her something warm to drink. She may be starving.”

“Very likely she is,” said Mrs. Chester. “Run along, Cora. We’ll look after things here. Bring the doctor as soon as you can.”

Outside Cora found Jack and the other boys anxiously waiting news of what was going on. They cried:

“Who is she?”

“Has she come to yet?”

“How did she happen to be on the raft?”

“Has she told you her story?”

“I can’t stop to talk now!” she replied. “I’ve got to go for the doctor. Jack, be a good boy, and run the Flyaway out for me. Bess and I are going in that for Dr. Brown. He – ”

“Didn’t you telephone for him long ago?”

“Yes, but his car broke down.”

“I see. I’ll have the flyer here in a minute. Don’t you want my car? It’s lighter.”

“Or mine?” asked Norton eagerly, anxious to be of some service.

“Thank you both–no. Bess and I will make out all right. We don’t know who the girl is, nor what’s the matter. Get the car, Jack, do.”

The boys, who had come back from their little trip shortly after the girls had made the strange rescue, talked about the happening, while Jack ran the Flyaway out from the shed where it was kept with the other cars. Soon Cora and Bess were on their way to pick up the physician.

“She must have received a blow on the head. That is the only way I can account for her long stupor. Or perhaps she has received some severe mental shock. Of course the exposure and the fright of the wreck would add to it.”

It was Dr. Brown who spoke this way after examining the girl from the raft. Cora and Bess had made good time to get the medical man and bring him back to the bungalow.

“But she is coming around now,” went on the physician. “We will have her opening her eyes in a moment.”

“Perhaps the sight of this may help her when she begins to come to her senses,” suggested Rosalie, bringing in the suitcase that had been on the raft with the girl. “She seemed to value it very much, to take it with her in the time of the excitement of the wreck,” she went on. The bag had been lost sight of in the confusion of bringing the strange girl to the bungalow and in sending for the doctor. In fact, the other girls had almost forgotten that such a thing existed.

Rosalie now brought it in, sodden and damp from the sea water. She placed it on the floor near the couch on which the girl lay.

Idly Cora glanced at the suitcase. Some letters on it caught her eyes. They were partly obliterated, either by abrasion, or the action of the sea water, but Cora could see that they formed a name. She leaned forward, and read half aloud:

“Nancy Ford.”

“Girls! Girls!” Cora exclaimed. “Look–we have found her–the missing girl that Mrs. Raymond wanted so much to find. Nancy Ford! There she is!” and she pointed to the girl on the couch.

“Nancy Ford!” repeated Belle. “Who – ”

“You don’t mean to say you don’t remember?” cried Cora. “The fire in our garage–the strange woman–the story she told–of the robbers–of Nancy Ford disappearing. There is Nancy Ford!”

“Look! her name is on the valise!” Cora pointed a slightly-trembling finger at it. “She is our waif from the sea. Oh, if she will explain things–if only everything is all right–and we could find Mrs. Raymond!”