CHAPTER 5 UNWANTED ADVICE

“Just having an early morning snack?” Mrs. Bevens, the cook, inquired.

“Why, no,” stammered Penny. “That is—.” Confronted with the empty milk bottle, a chicken skeleton, and two empty food dishes, it seemed futile to deny such incriminating evidence. Though tempted to speak of Jack, she decided it would not be sporting of her.

“Young people have such healthy appetites,” the cook sighed. “I had counted on that chicken for luncheon. But never mind. I can send to the mainland for something else.”

Feeling like a criminal, Penny fled to her room.

“I could tar and feather Jack!” she thought furiously. “If he ever gets up, I’ll make him explain to the cook.”

The breakfast bell rang at eight o’clock. When Penny joined the group downstairs, she was surprised to see Jack in a fresh suit, looking little the worse for having been out all night.

“What time did you get in, Jack?” his father inquired pointedly.

“Well, now I just don’t remember,” the boy answered, winking at Penny.

“How did you get in, might be a better question. If I recollect correctly, all of the doors were locked last night at midnight.”

Penny, decidedly uncomfortable, would have confessed her part, had not Jack sent her a warning glance. As everyone went in to breakfast, the matter was allowed to rest.

Ravenously hungry, Penny ate two waffles and several pieces of bacon. Observing the butler’s amazed gaze upon her, she guessed that the cook had told him of the chicken episode.

Breakfast over, she managed to get Jack into a corner.

“Listen,” she said indignantly, “why don’t you tell your parents exactly what happened. Mrs. Bevens thinks I ate up all the chicken.”

“Does she?” Jack chuckled. “That’s rich! Don’t you dare give me away!”

“You give me a pain!” Penny retorted, losing all patience. “If I weren’t a guest in your house, I think I might slug you!”

“Go ahead,” Jack invited, unruffled. “You’re a little spitfire just like Sally! Oh, by the way, how about a trial run in the Spindrift?”

“Not the new sailboat?”

Jack nodded, his face animated. “She was delivered yesterday and is smooth as silk. The mast may need to be stepped back a notch or so, but otherwise she’s perfect for the race. Want to sail with me?”

“I’d love to,” Penny said, forgetting her resentment.

Hand in hand they ran down the path to the docks. The Spindrift, built to Mr. Gandiss’ specifications, at a cost of nearly two thousand dollars, was a magnificent boat. Sixteen feet from bow to stern, its new coat of white was satin smooth, and its metalwork gleamed in the morning sun.

“She’s fast,” Jack declared proudly. “Sally Barker hasn’t a chance to win that race!”

“Will she have a new boat?”

“No, the captain can’t afford it. She’ll have to sail Cat’s Paw again.” In all honesty, Jack added: “It’s a good boat though. Captain Barker built it himself.”

Together they put up the snowy white mainsail, and Jack shoved off from the dock. Heading upstream, the boy demonstrated how close to the wind the Spindrift would sail.

“She’s good in a light breeze too,” he declared. “No matter what sort of weather we get for the race, I figure I’ll win.”

“There’s an old saying that pride goeth before a fall,” Penny reminded him. “Also one about not counting your chickens.”

“Poultry never interested me,” Jack grinned, his eyes on the peak of the mainsail. “I’ll win that brass lantern trophy from Sally if it’s the last act of my life.”

Penny, who had sailed a boat for several seasons in Riverview, hoped that Jack would offer her the tiller. Oblivious to her hints, he kept the Spindrift heeling along so fast that water fairly boiled behind the rudder. Jack was a good sailor and knew it.

Observing the River Queen plying her usual course, the boy deliberately steered to cross her path. As Penny well knew, by rules of navigation the ferryboat was compelled to watch out for the smaller boat. With apparent unconcern, Jack forced the Queen to change courses.

As the boats passed fairly close to each other, Sally appeared at the railing. A bandana handkerchief covered her hair and she wore slacks and a white sweater. Watching the Spindrift with concentration, she cupped her hands and shouted:

“If you sail near Hat Island, better be careful, Jack! The river level is dropping fast this morning. There’s a shoal—”

“When I need advice from you, I’ll ask for it!” Jack replied furiously, turning his back to the ferry.

Sally waved derisively and disappeared into the pilot house.

“Why aren’t you two nicer to each other?” Penny demanded suddenly. “It seems to me you deliberately try to wave a red flag at her. For instance, sailing across the River Queen’s bow—”

“Oh, I just intend to show Sally she can’t push me around! Let’s go home.”

Suddenly tiring of the sport, Jack let out the mainsail, and the boat glided swiftly before the wind. Approaching a small island tangled with bushes and vines, Penny noted that the water was growing shallow. She called Jack’s attention to the muddy bottom beneath them.

“Oh, it’s deep enough through here,” the boy responded carelessly. “I make the passage every day.”

“What island are we passing?”

“Hat. The water always is shoal here. Just sit tight and quit scowling at me.”

“I didn’t know I was,” Penny said, sinking back into the cushions.

The Spindrift gently grazed bottom. Dismayed, Penny straightened up, peering over the side. The boat was running hard into a mud bank.

“About! Bring her about, Jack!” she cried before she considered how he might take the uninvited advice.

“The water is deep enough here,” Jack answered stubbornly. “It’s only a tiny shoal. We’ll sail through it easily.”

Penny said nothing more, though her lips drew into a tight line.

Jack held to his course. For a moment it appeared that the boat would glide over the shoal into deeper water. Then the next instant they were hard aground. The sail began to flap.

“We’re stuck like a turtle in a puddle,” commented Penny, not without satisfaction.

“We’ll get off!” Jack cried, seizing a paddle from the bottom of the boat.

He tried to shove away from the shoal, but the wind against the big sail resisted his strength.

“You’ll never get off that way,” Penny said calmly. “Why not take down the sail? We’re hard aground now.”

Jack glared, and looked as if he would like to heave the paddle at her.

“Okay,” he growled.

Winds which came from the head of Hat Island were tricky. Before Jack could lower the sail, the breeze, shifting slightly, struck the expanse of canvas from directly aft.

“Look out, Jack!” Penny screamed a warning. “We’re going to jibe!”

Jack ducked but not quickly enough. With great violence, the wind swung the sail over to the opposite side of the boat, the boom striking him a stunning blow on the back of the head.

Moaning with pain, he slumped into the bottom of the Spindrift.