Before they could pick up the luggage, an elderly, gray-haired man came hurriedly down a flagstone walk from the brightly lighted house on the knoll.
"Mr. Gandiss!" exclaimed Anthony Parker, grasping his outstretched hand. "This is my daughter, Penelope. Or Penny, everyone calls her."
The owner of Shadow Island greeted the girl with more than casual interest. But as he spoke, his puzzled gaze followed the River Queen whose lights now could be seen far upstream.
"I may as well make a clean breast of it, Dad," Jack said before his father could request an explanation. "We ran out of gas, and the Queen picked us up."
"You ran out of gas? I distinctly recall warning you this afternoon that the tank would need to be refilled."
"I forgot," Jack said, edging away. Before his father could reprimand him further, he disappeared in the direction of the boathouse.
Mr. Gandiss, a stout, pleasant man, was distressed by his son's behavior. As he led the way to the house, he apologized so profusely that Penny and her father began to feel uncomfortable.
"Oh, boys will be boys," Mr. Parker declared, trying to put an end to the discussion. "No harm was done."
"We enjoyed the adventure," added Penny sincerely. "It was a pleasure to meet Captain Barker and his daughter."
Mr. Gandiss refused to abandon the subject.
"Jack worries me," he confessed ruefully. "He's sixteen now--almost seventeen, but in some respects he has no responsibility. He's an only child, and I am afraid my wife and I have spoiled him."
"Jack doesn't seem to get along with Sally Barker very well," Penny remarked, smiling at the recollection.
"That's another thing," nodded the island owner. "Sally is a fine girl and smart as a whip. Jack has the idea that because she isn't the product of a finishing school, she is beneath notice. Sally likes to prick holes in Jack's inflated ego, and then the war is on!"
"You have a fine son," Mr. Parker said warmly. "He'll outgrow all these ideas."
"I hope so," sighed Mr. Gandiss. "I certainly do." His expression conveyed the impression that he was not too confident.
The Gandiss home, surrounded by shrubs, was large and pretentious. At the front there was a long, narrow terrace which caught the breeze and commanded a view of the river for half a mile in either direction. There were tennis courts at the rear, and a garden.
"I'm glad you folks will be here for the annual sailboat race," Mr. Gandiss remarked, pausing to indicate the twinkling shore lights across the water. "If it were daytime, you could see the entire course from here. Jack is to race a new boat built especially for him."
"Sally Barker is his chief competitor?" inquired Penny.
"Yes, in skill they are about equally matched, I should say. They take their feud very seriously."
In the open doorway stood Mrs. Gandiss, a silver-haired woman not yet in her fifties. Cordially, she bade the newcomers welcome.
"What a dreadful time you must have had out on the river!" she said sympathetically. "The storm came up so quickly. My husband would have met you himself, but he was delayed at the factory."
A servant was sent for the luggage, and Effie, a maid, conducted Penny to her room. The chamber was luxuriously furnished with a green tiled bath adjoining. Pulling a silken cord to open the Venetian blinds, Penny saw that the window overlooked the river. She breathed deeply of the damp, rain-freshened air.
"Where do the Barkers live?" she asked Effie who was laying out embroidered towels.
"Wherever it suits their fancy to drop anchor, Miss. Since I came here to work, the only home they ever have had was aboard their ferryboat."
The luggage soon was brought up, and Effie unpacked, carefully hanging up each garment. Penny inquired if she would have time for a hot bath.
"Oh, yes, Miss. The Gandiss' never dine until eight. I will draw your tub. Pine scent or violet?"
Penny swallowed hard and nearly lost her composure. "Make it pine," she managed, "and omit the needles!"
