Polly's Southern Cruise

Both girls were tossed like cockle shells into the room where Mrs. Courtney was trying to soothe Elizabeth Dalken’s nervous hysteria. At the same time such a frightful sound of pounding waters on the deck and sides and top of the yacht drove apprehension deeper into their souls. Even courageous Mrs. Courtney showed her sense of fear.

“What is that noise?” whispered Eleanor in a weak voice.

“I don’t know, dear,” replied Mrs. Courtney, “but it sounds like a cloud burst. The moment it is over we shall be all right.”

And this is what it turned out to be. A hurricane from off shore, suddenly sweeping up gigantic clouds of water by its sheer force of velocity across the waves, and then suddenly emptying its sac of water over the defenseless craft which bravely defied the storms, endeavored to sink it.

With the pouring out of its last vial of wrath the hurricane subsided, and in half an hour all was quiet without: all but the shouting and rushing of the sailors as they ran to and fro on their duties. With the four in one small room, Elizabeth felt safer and was soon quieted. Then when the vessel seemed to resume its untroubled course, she settled down and fell asleep. Mrs. Courtney and the two girls who had been hurtled into the room, left her and closed the door softly as they went out.

“I am going to go out and see what can be seen,” ventured Polly, but Mrs. Courtney dissuaded her.

“You may be in the way of the carrying out of the Captain’s orders, Polly. Better remain satisfied with going to the saloon. I expect to find all the others there before us.”

Thence the three made their way, and true to predictions, the grown-ups were assembled there talking over the narrow escape they had just had.

“What time is it?” asked Eleanor of Tom Latimer.

“It must be near dawn,” added Polly, anxiously.

“Well, it isn’t,” replied Tom, as he took out his watch. “I had not yet taken off my coat and vest when this storm came upon us. I rushed out of my room at the first blow and offered my services to the Captain, but he had prepared, thank God! We wouldn’t be talking over events now had he not understood the forecast of the weather.”

Tom showed the two girls his watch and to their surprise they realized that all had happened in less than twenty minutes. It was but just one o’clock.

“Then we ought to get back to bed and coax our beauty sleep to soothe our nerves,” laughed Mrs. Courtney.

“So we shall, as soon as Shink sends in our hot malted milk. He claims it will soothe any nerves – the way he can concoct it. I ordered him to prepare a cauldronful for the crew, too, as they needed calming more than any one I ever saw. Not from fear or nerves, but from doing the work of ten times their number in order to keep us afloat.” Mr. Dalken seemed seriously thoughtful for a moment after he spoke, then he added:

“I am the only one here who realizes the close call we had. The Captain with his preventive measures before the storm broke, and the ready obedience of his crew, saved us this night. Not only did we run foul of one of the fiercest hurricanes that sweep over the sea at this latitude, but we also managed to get under the deluge that broke when the hurricane began to lose power and let go its hold on the great mass of water it managed to hold aloft during its swift circling about our poor little craft.

“Thank God for that Swedish lad! Had it not been for his powerful muscle in the moment of extremity, we would now be without a Captain. It all happened so suddenly that no one had time to think. The sudden cloud burst, or water spout, fell just as Captain Blake started to cross the deck, and the volume of water would have carried him overboard but for that young giant. Instead of thinking he acted. He threw an arm about the brass bar and caught hold of the Captain’s arm as he was washed past him. With a grip like steel the rescuer managed to work his way, hand over hand clutching to the water-washed rail, until he had reached safety.

“Well, such is the life of a sea-faring man!” concluded Mr. Dalken, as he sat and thought of the past danger.

CHAPTER V – TOUCHING AT PALM BEACH

Before the White Crest reached her first port, which was Jacksonville, Mr. Dalken must have regretted his invitation to his daughter Elizabeth to become one of his party for the cruise. She had not only taken every occasion to contradict her father when he made any statement, but she sneered at all he said. Naturally this superior air from a young girl deeply annoyed Polly and Eleanor who were Mr. Dalken’s sworn allies; and the friends who knew and admired their host without limitation, also felt diffident at such times as Mr. Dalken was so rudely criticised.

Said Eleanor to Polly one night before retiring: “If I were Dalky I’d take Elizabeth to the express train going to New York and I’d ship her home to her butterfly mother!”

“It’s one thing to say such a thing, but quite another matter to accomplish it,” returned Polly.

“Well, anyway, we may find some way in which to leave her behind when we touch at Jacksonville or Palm Beach.”

“Oh! Are we going to stop at Palm Beach?” exclaimed Polly.

“Why, yes! Didn’t you know? It was Elizabeth’s coaxing that caused Dalky to agree to stop over there to have dinner at the Ponce de Leon. Perhaps we shall spend the evening there and return to the ship to sleep.”

“That’s great! If Elizabeth should meet any of her New York friends at the hotel she may prefer to remain,” ventured Polly.

“I’m hoping the same thing. If only we could hypnotize people we might bring some one she likes right into her pathway,” laughed Eleanor as she jumped into bed.

The following morning the yacht reached Jacksonville where Tom Latimer was supposed to leave his friends and start back North. But John and Anne Brewster were persuaded to remain on board with their friends till they reached Palm Beach, hence Tom decided to remain too, and thence accompany his bosom friend John back to New York.

“If Tom insists upon dogging my every step as he has been doing on the yacht, I don’t see that I am going to have a good time,” pouted Polly, as she heard Eleanor’s news that Tom would go on to Palm Beach.

Eleanor laughed teasingly. “That’s what a young girl gets for having a beau who is daffy over her!”

“But, Nolla,” complained Polly, “it isn’t my fault that Tom won’t take a broad hint to mind his own business!”

“Perhaps he thinks this is his business – the business of getting the girl he has made up his mind to marry,” declared Eleanor.

“Well, then! You can just tell him from me, Nolla, that he is going about it in exactly the wrong way to interest me in himself. A girl hates to be tagged, just as a man loses interest in a girl who is forever putting herself in his way to be noticed.”

“I’ll tell him!” agreed Eleanor, laughingly.

But it was not necessary that Eleanor warn Tom of his over-zealous attentions to Polly, because a general surprise awaited the mariners when the vessel docked. Not only did Eleanor find a telegram from her father, in which he said that unexpected trouble at his bank kept him in Chicago, and prevented his joining the happy friends on the White Crest, but Mr. Dalken also found his ward, John Baxter, and his friend Raymond Ames waiting to come aboard. Every one believed Jack to be in New York.

“Well, well, boys, where did you hail from?” was Mr. Dalken’s first words as the two young men leaped upon the deck and ran to present themselves.

“Why, immediately after you sailed I met my friend Ray who was bound for a position in Panama. Being so lonesome with all you friends away, it took but little coaxing from him to persuade me to accompany him,” explained Jack.

Even while the new-comers were being overwhelmed with questions from the mariners, Mr. Dalken called a hasty council of war and discussed the advisability of going ashore to see the town, or to continue on to Palm Beach. It was unanimously decided that Jacksonville contained nothing of interest to the sailors, the three guests just arrived, having seen all they wanted to see at the city. Hence orders were given to pull up anchor and sail away to the famous winter resort where all and sundry kinds of sport might be found.

With the coming of Jack and Ray on board the yacht, the girls showed more life and interest in planning to pass the time. Tom felt so much the senior of the two young men who now vied with him for Polly’s smiles, that he joined his chum John Brewster, and held aloof from the younger members in the party. Not till Anne reminded him that he was acting the same mistaken part he had played on board the ocean liner at the time it docked at Quarantine in New York City, did he rouse himself to look pleasant and agreeable when Polly danced and laughed with the friends of her own age.

The small damage done the yacht in the hurricane, which she had braved and came out of the victor, was soon attended to by one of the mates who had been a ship’s carpenter before Mr. Dalken’s alluring salary had tempted him to join up on Captain Blake’s crew. Long before the White Crest arrived at Palm Beach the repairs had all been done and the craft was looking as pert and fresh as any millionaire’s vessel within a radius of twenty miles of the Beach.

Of all the merry-makers in that party of mariners not one cared very much what food was served for dinner at the Ponce de Leon, but every one did take a personal interest in the groups of young people, the life of society at that gay season in Palm Beach, and the fun they expected to get out of the visit to the fashionable hotel and the evening hours spent on shore.

Eleanor had hinted to Polly that it might be possible that Elizabeth Dalken would find a number of society friends from New York at the hotel, and so she did.

Naturally they came buzzing about her, and, to impress her yachting associates with her social prestige, she smiled sweetly upon the trio, and accepted their invitation to go with them. Elizabeth did not deem it necessary to ask her father’s consent to leave his party and attach herself to that of her newly-found friends from New York; neither did she hesitate to go with them minus a proper chaperone, although she had seemed very particular about criticising other girls who may have overlooked Mrs. Grundy at times.

As Mr. Dalken was not present in the group when Elizabeth took French leave, and Mrs. Courtney was not asked about a chaperone for that evening, the girl hurried away to enjoy herself as she saw best. Mr. Dalken, returning soon after her departure, seemed amazed that she had gone, but he said nothing at the time and immediately turned his full attention to the entertainment of his guests.

Polly and Eleanor had insisted that the younger members in the party dress in their very best. This called for Mrs. Courtney and her elderly friends to dress up to the standard set by the girls. And this, naturally, compelled the men to give more attention to their evening clothes and general appearances than they might have done without this spur from the ladies. Hence it happened that not a single unit of gay persons at dinner that night in the magnificent hotel could surpass the appearances of Mr. Dalken’s party. As he remarked later:

“It was to be expected of such an extraordinary bouquet of beautiful females as I conducted from my yacht. Others might have shown costlier jewels and handsomer gowns but not one could compete with my flowers where beauty was the test.”

As it mattered little at what hour the passengers went back to the yacht, they made the most of this gay evening on shore. John and Anne Brewster were to leave the party the next day and start back to New York for a week before returning to Pebbly Pit Ranch. And Tom Latimer, now that Polly expected to be away from New York for many months, felt inclined to accompany his friends back to his work at Choko Mines. Perhaps it was his salvation that Polly decided to take this cruise, otherwise he may never have found courage or inclination enough to go back to his mining interests.

Having danced herself breathless, Polly finally consented to hear Anne’s whispered suggestion that she leave a few moments to Tom before he got mad and walked back home. With a little laugh Polly sent Jack Baxter a sorry look and told him to go find Elizabeth for a dancing partner.

“But I’d rather dance with you, Polly. What is Mrs. Brewster saying to you that makes you look so remorseful?” replied he.

“I’m telling Polly of a very urgent duty, Jack, and you know, as well as I, that you must not monopolize all her time this evening,” retorted Anne.

“Well, seeing that I am going to be one of the passengers on Dalky’s yacht for a long time, I believe I will release Polly to Tom for a short time,” remarked Jack in a casual tone.

“Oh! You are not really going on the yacht, are you?” exclaimed Polly.

“Why? Do you object to my company?” demanded Jack.

“Oh, no! It will be lots livelier with Ray and you on board. But no one has mentioned it before, so I naturally thought you and Ray were here for a short visit at the Beach, then planned to go back to New York to continue your studies,” explained Polly.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Jack in a thoughtful manner, “I’ve convinced Dalky that the great mining interests of the Argentine need my personal investigation. You must not forget that a great deal of my fortune is invested in mining shares in South America; and these mining companies have their central offices at Buenos Aires. Dalky can tell you that a visit to these brokers, now and then, makes them sit up and take notice of you. Otherwise they might ignore your dividends, you see.”

Anne jeered at such an explanation for Jack’s hurried decision to visit South America. “I can safely vouch for your remaining in the United States, were it not for the fact that you find a bevy of pretty girls on your guardian’s yacht too alluring for you to renounce. You plan to get the most fun out of this cruise and then go your way, leaving a string of broken hearts behind you. That is the reputation you have, I find.” Anne laughed as she shook a finger at Jack.

“My reputation for drawing and then breaking hearts can never reach the championship winner and breaker that Polly is. Who can ever ignore that European tour when the subject of hearts is being discussed?” Jack shook his head in pretended sorrow for those rejected suitors on the “Other Side.”

Polly made an impatient sound with the tip of her tongue against her white little teeth, and Jack laughed.

“Just for that I am going without a single word of regret for the dances I promised you and now withhold,” said Polly, turning and running away to join the group sitting under a great palm on the balcony.

Here she found Tom moodily talking with John. But the moment Polly touched him on the shoulder and said: “Are we going for a little walk on the beach?” he brightened up wonderfully.

Polly felt that she owed Tom this short time before he would have to return west on his mining work. Also she felt that she had treated him too sternly in punishment of his short-comings. Of course, Tom had no idea that Polly considered his slavish attentions as short-comings.

As the two sauntered away from the hotel and turned in the direction of the marvellous beach, Polly began the conversation by remarking, in a cool, mature manner: “Now don’t go and talk of bosh, Tom, just because I invited you for a stroll.”

“What do you mean by bosh?” demanded Tom, ready with a chip on his shoulder.

“Oh, pooh! You know what I mean – your soft talk of love. I just won’t listen to it morning, and night, and at every moment of the day. You are the dandiest pal with Nolla and Ruth and Nancy – why not with me?”

Tom wisely held his peace. He could have answered in his own way, but he knew that would call forth a new tirade against his ideas of possession. Not having a reply from her escort with which to continue the argument, Polly found herself shut up on the subject. And wisely she, too, launched out upon an entirely opposite topic.

“Some one told Dalky not to stop at Hayti because the natives were so treacherous to white folks,” remarked Polly. “I did so want to see the Island we hear so much about. I’ve read of the voodoo religion, and the way the sacred snake charmers strike terror into the souls of their congregations, and I’d love to see them.”

“I think Dalken is absolutely right in not taking chances with you girls in landing at Hayti. Morally the Haytians are not to be trusted. All the old superstitions of barbaric Africa prevail to such an extent that no right-minded person wishes to visit there. I am surprised, Polly, that you can entertain the least desire to see what every one knows to be a deplorable condition of affairs.” Tom spoke in a fatherly way that caused Polly to smile, but he did not see her face. Perhaps he would not have continued in the same strain had he thought she was amused instead of being advised.

“Yes, Hayti is an unsafe place for civilized women to go to; not only do the authorities ignore the rights of a people under their government, but they seem to have no regard for human lives. I recently read an article in a magazine in which it stated that one unfortunate circumstance about Kingston, the capital of Jamaica, was its convenience to Hayti – all the escaping criminals and refugees from justice jumped aboard a sailing craft and in a few hours were landed upon the shores of that beautiful isle whence they could not be taken except through extradition papers.”

“How intensely thrilling to me is all this political information. I’m sure I shall never wish to see a voodoo service after hearing you speak of government and politics,” laughed Polly.

Tom now turned and stared at the girl. Was she in earnest about saying she cared nothing for Hayti now, or was she ridiculing his advices? To keep her companion in doubt as to her motive, Polly changed the subject again.

“I shall delight in visiting Jamaica, and Porto Rico, perhaps the Barbados, before we go through the Panama Canal. Dalky says that, should it be impossible for a stop at the Barbados on our way down to South America, he will see that the Captain surely stops there on our return. Have you any warnings to give concerning the natives of the Caribbean Isles?”

“I don’t know a thing about them! I never visited Hayti, you know, but I merely told you what learned and wise men say of it.” Tom’s tone was not very sweet, and Polly realized that her last words had offended his sensitive heart.

“Let’s talk of Pebbly Pit and Choko’s Mine,” said she with forced joyous anticipation in her voice. She felt sure she knew all that Tom would say in order to prove to her that she ought to marry him and live out on the ranch with her family. This time Tom disappointed her, however.

“I have nothing new to tell you about Pebbly Pit, because you know as well as I do that I have been in New York too long to be able to speak of what may be taking place out on the ranch. But one thing I can speak of, and even that is not yours or my business, I suppose, and that is the queer triangle on board the White Crest – do you get me?”

“A triangle! No, I do not get you, Tom. What is it?”

“Well, then, I know just as well as if you had told me, that Nolla and you are match-making between Dalky and Mrs. Courtney. And I might add, that I can advise you to watch your step, but of course, you will throw back your head and give me a glance of disdain, hence I will not warn you. This much I can say, nevertheless, and that is: Look out for Elizabeth Dalken, if you think Nolla and you can pull little Cupid’s bow and arrows to suit yourselves. You’ve got the third angle of the proposition when you have Elizabeth with whom to reckon. She is worldly wise and she won’t hesitate to use every bit of knowledge she possesses to thwart such a scheme for her father.”

Polly looked serious. “Did you really guess that much? How did you do it, when Nolla and I have been models of discretion? Not even Dalky or Mrs. Courtney, or the Fabians dream of the match.”

“Maybe it is because I am so miserably in love myself, that I intuitively feel for any one else who may be in the same boat.”

Tom’s tone and hopeless manner caused Polly intense amusement though she managed to hide the fact from him. However, she was in earnest now, regarding this matter about the matchmaking, and she wanted to get Tom’s valuable suggestions on the matter.

“Well,” returned Tom to her anxious questioning, “one always gets into hot water when matchmaking between two persons, especially if those two have had a taste of matrimonial troubles. But I know Nolla and you well enough to see that you will not give up a pet plan until you are driven to desperation over its failure. With Elizabeth Dalken to frustrate every tête-à-tête, or other plans to throw these two mature hoped-for lovers together, what will you do? Either come out boldly and show your cards, or call that girl’s bluff, or in some way be the means of shipping her back home.”

“Well, how can we call her bluff when she won’t admit us to her confidence?” asked Polly, eagerly.

“Watch opportunities! But it will be easier to ship her back home, if you can get her deeply interested in an objective in going north and allowing you-all to continue your voyage.”

“Show me the objective and I’ll do it! She’s getting on everybody’s nerves, as it is. And I verily believe that Dalky is heartily sorry he had her come,” declared Polly.

“One objective would be to induce her to remain at Palm Beach, now that she is here with friends, and get her father to give her a sufficient inducement in cash to tear herself away from the yacht and the prospective voyage. Another objective might be Jack Baxter. She knows he is enormously wealthy, and it is her sole aim and ambition to marry a fortune and a good family name. She would get both in Baxter, but I doubt if Jack would fall for her. However, if he could be induced to pose as a cavalier, and cut short his trip to South America, I’m sure the girl would follow – providing she had a satisfactory chaperone to give the entire proceeding Mother Grundy’s approval.”

Polly frowned down both of the propositions. “She won’t remain at Palm Beach because she has been here too often to have it afford her any novelty now. On the other hand we can’t expect Jack Baxter to place his head upon the block for execution, just to please us in ridding ourselves of the girl. Why, Elizabeth might claim Jack as a suitor, and then drive poor Jack to desperate steps in order to show he is a gentleman!”

While they were discussing such weighty matters the two had turned and were walking back again in the direction of the hotel. Neither one had seen the moonlight on the sea, nor had they realized that they had strolled across the hard beach and back again – so full of plans were they over the little plot for happiness for their two good friends. Now they came to the Palm Walk again.

“Where have you two been?” demanded Eleanor, impatiently.

“We’ve spent half an hour looking for you. Dalky wants us to find Elizabeth and start back for the yacht,” added Nancy Fabian.

“We will have no trouble in starting for the yacht, but to find Elizabeth is quite a different matter,” laughed Tom.

John Brewster now came over to Tom and spoke. “Anne and I are going to pack our bags and come back on shore to-night, as Dalken says the Captain wishes to resume the voyage early in the morning. I thought you would want to get your bag, too, and come back with us. If you prefer remaining here, Anne says she can pack the suitcase and spare you the trip.”

“No, thank you! I’ll go with you and see as much of Polly as I can, before leaving her to sail away with no certain future for me in it!” exclaimed Tom, positively. John smiled.

The bell-boys having sought about quickly in every direction of the hotel and gardens returned, one by one, with the reply that Miss Elizabeth Dalken failed to respond to their calls. Mr. Dalken tipped each page as he reported to him, and then turned to his friends. “There’s nothing for it, but that I hunt her up myself, and permit you to go on to the yacht alone. I’ll come as soon as I locate my daughter.”

Polly caught a sympathetic glance from Mrs. Courtney’s eye in the direction of the troubled host, then the guests accepted the inevitable and left the man to seek Elizabeth in every niche and corner of the vast resort.