CHAPTER V Clyde Wendell’s Mission

Madge was washing breakfast dishes the next morning when Clyde Wendell entered the kitchen. He appeared in a better mood than upon his arrival and greeted her pleasantly.

“Good morning. I’d like to go for a little row on the lake. Can you let me have a boat?”

“I’ll see what we have,” she returned, wiping soap suds from her hands.

She walked down to the landing with him although she knew without looking that all of the boats save one were gone. The skiff had been rented out earlier that morning to another guest and Bill had taken one of the boats across the lake to gather stone for a new fireplace Mr. Brady was building. That left only a heavy, cumbersome craft which leaked rather badly.

“Perhaps you would prefer to wait until the skiff comes in,” she suggested doubtfully. “We seldom rent out this boat. It’s rather heavy and—”

“You keep it in reserve for yourself, eh?” the chemist interrupted with a knowing laugh. “Well, it looks like a good boat to me and I’ll take it.”

Madge started to protest then changed her mind. Without a word, she went to the woodshed and brought back a pair of oars which she fitted into the locks. Carelessly, she dropped a tin bucket into the bottom of the boat.

“What’s that for?” Clyde demanded suspiciously.

“Oh, just in case of a leak.”

The chemist should have been forewarned but the bottom of the boat was dry and he had implicit faith in his own judgment. Stepping into the craft he rowed away. Madge smiled as she watched him strike out across the lake. She returned to her dishes, but a few minutes later, hanging dish towels on the back porch, she observed that the boat had taken a direct course for Stewart Island.

“I wonder what he’s up to?” she mused. “I don’t believe he wanted me to know he was going over there to see Anne. I’d like to follow him over but of course that wouldn’t do.”

Though somewhat ashamed of her curiosity, Madge kept close watch of Stewart Island all morning. Toward noon the chemist’s boat was sighted returning slowly across the lake. She was amused to see that he frequently dropped his oars to bail water.

Presently, the boat eased to a landing.

“Say, what do you mean by giving me an old leaky tub?” the chemist called out angrily as he caught sight of Madge on the veranda. “I darn near drowned!”

“I guess the boat does leak a trifle,” she admitted readily. “I tried to tell you but you were so determined not to wait for the skiff.”

“You didn’t hurt yourself trying to tell me! Look at my clothes—wet to the skin. If I hadn’t bailed like all get-out I’d have gone to the bottom.”

“The boat never entirely fills,” Madge corrected sweetly.

Clyde stalked angrily into the house to change his wet shoes and garments. Madge tied up the boat, chuckling at his discomfiture.

“Something must have gone wrong over at Stewart Island,” she thought shrewdly. “I’ll find out when I see Anne again.”

The opportunity was to present itself that very afternoon. Soon after luncheon, Clyde Wendell went for a walk in the forest and a short time later, Madge sighted Anne’s familiar red canoe on the lake. As the girl came toward the lodge, she raced down to the water’s edge to meet her.

Anne looked cautiously about before she beached her canoe.

“Clyde Wendell isn’t anywhere near, is he?” she asked in a low tone. “If he is, I can’t stay.”

“He left a half hour ago. What’s wrong, Anne? You look worried.”

“I am. Oh, Madge, everything has gone wrong. You were right about Clyde. He didn’t come here to help at all. He’s the meanest man in the world!”

“What has he done now?”

“He claims I owe him five hundred dollars. Or rather, that Father did. He insists that several months back wages were due him at the time he left here. It’s too ridiculous for words! Actually, Father paid him extra money to be rid of him.”

“Haven’t you a cancelled check or a receipt to prove it?”

“Not a thing. Father wouldn’t bother about a receipt. Clyde knows that he was more than paid for his services. I’m afraid he thinks I’m inexperienced about business matters and that he can bluff me into giving him the money.”

“I’d never do it.”

Anne laughed shortly.

“No danger of that. I couldn’t find five hundred dollars if my life depended upon it. The only way I can raise money is to borrow from the bank or sell my island. And in this country islands are as common as pine trees and about as cheap!”

“Not such islands as yours,” Madge corrected. “Uncle George says you have an ideal location and the place should bring a tidy sum if sold to the right party.”

“Well, Jake Curtis isn’t the right party. I’m sure of that. He knows it will be hard for me to pay the debt I owe him and I think he means to take advantage of me if he can. I’m to see the president of the First National bank today and ask him for a loan. Jack said he would take me to town in his car. Won’t you come with us?”

Madge replied that she should not leave but Anne coaxed her until she gave in. They crossed the lake and found Jack waiting with his car. He seemed well pleased that Madge was to go along.

At Luxlow he dropped the girls at the bank, promising to call for them in an hour. They entered the building and Anne was admitted to the private office of the president. Madge waited outside.

Fifteen minutes elapsed before Anne emerged. The expression of her face disclosed instantly that the interview had not been successful.

“It’s no use,” she reported when they were outside again. “He listened politely enough to my story but he wasn’t really interested. When I finished he said he was sorry he could do nothing for me. It seems the bank must have sound collateral and I’ve nothing to pledge.”

Madge tried to cheer her companion, and since over a half hour remained before Jack would return, suggested that they go to a nearby drug store for ice cream. They walked slowly down the street, gazing at the window displays.

Suddenly Anne clutched her friend’s arm, gripping it with a hard pressure. With a quick jerk of her head she indicated a man on the opposite side of the street.

“There’s Jake Curtis!” she said tensely. “I hope he doesn’t see me!”

No sooner had the words been spoken than the man turned toward the girls. He was a short, stout individual with ill-fitting, somewhat soiled clothing and a hard, shrewd face. Before Anne and Madge could dodge into a store he crossed the street and confronted them.

“Trying to avoid me, eh?”

“Why should I wish to avoid you, Mr. Curtis?” Anne countered.

“Well, there’s a little matter of a note between us, y’know.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Aiming to pay it off by the first, are you?”

“Why,—I—that is, I expect to,” Anne stammered.

“Better think over that proposition I made you. You’ll not find any other person in these parts who will take the house off your hands. I must warn you though, I’ll expect payment of one kind or another on the day my note falls due.”

“I’ll bear it in mind,” Anne returned coldly.

The girls turned their backs and walked hurriedly on. Anne was so agitated by the meeting that she did not care to stop at the drug store so they returned to the bank there to await Jack.

“Jake Curtis surely deserves his reputation!” Madge declared in disgust. “Oh, Anne, don’t ever sell him your island!”

“I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Perhaps Uncle George can find a buyer for you. I’ll speak to him tonight about it. And then we may locate the formula. That would solve everything.”

Jack soon returned and the three started for Loon Lake. Anne who was reticent by nature, made no mention of her discouraging bank interview, and although Madge would have liked to acquaint the ranger with the situation, she felt it was not her place to bring up the subject.

The sun was low over the lake when the car finally reached the end of the road. The girls thanked Jack for the ride and took leave of him. They crossed over to the lodge in Anne’s canoe.

“I mustn’t stop, Madge. It’s getting late.”

“Do come in for just a minute,” her friend pleaded. “I baked a chocolate cake this morning and I want you to have half of it.”

Anne permitted herself to be led toward the house. Madge quickly wrapped up the cake but scarcely had she finished than they heard a shout from the beach. The next instant Old Bill came hurrying toward the house.

“Come quick, folks! An airplane’s landin’ on the lake. You’ll miss it if you don’t hurry!”

Madge laughed indulgently.

“Don’t pay any attention, Anne. That’s an old trick of his. He thinks every day is April Fool’s. Think up something better, Bill.”

“Honest, I’m not foolin’ this time,” Bill maintained with a seriousness which left no room for doubt. “Hear it?”

By this time the girls had caught the unmistakable drone of an airplane motor. They rushed from the house, following Bill to the beach, and were in time to see an amphibian spiral down and land smoothly on the water.

“Didn’t I tell you!” Bill chortled proudly. “It was three years last month that a mail plane landed on Loon Lake. Engine must be out of whack.”

Madge did not respond though she saw clearly that the plane was not of the regular mail service. Nor was it one of the “Fire Eagles” occasionally sent out by the Forest Service to scout for fires. As far as she could tell the plane was disabled in no way. The steady throb of its motors carried plainly over the water.

“Well, of all things!” Madge exclaimed. “What do you think of that!”

The amphibian was taxiing slowly through the water, its nose pointed directly toward the beach.