THE BRASS LANTERN
The rain dashed into Penny's face and ran in rivulets down her neck. With a change in the wind direction, the air had become suddenly cold. Shivering, she huddled close to her father for warmth.
Veiled by rain, the shore no longer was visible. Far to the right, the chug of a laboring motorboat was heard for an instant, then died away. It was apparent to Penny that they were drifting downstream quite rapidly.
"Listen!" she cried a moment later.
From upriver had come three sharp blasts of a whistle.
"That's the River Queen," muttered Jack, tossing a lock of wet hair out of his eyes. "We must be right in her path."
"Then maybe we'll be picked up!" Penny exclaimed hopefully.
Jack gave a snort of disgust. "I'd rather drown than accept help from Sally Barker! Wouldn't she gloat!"
"Young man," interposed Mr. Parker with emphasis, "this is no time for false pride. We're in a predicament and will welcome help from any source."
"Yes, sir, I guess you're right," murmured Jack, completely squelched. "I sure am sorry about getting you into this mess."
Gazing through the curtain of driving rain, Penny tried to glimpse the River Queen. Suddenly she distinguished its high decks and was dismayed to see that the ferry was bearing at full speed directly toward the drifting motorboat.
Jack leaped to his feet, frantically waving his arms. Realizing the danger of being run down, Mr. Parker likewise sprang up, shouting.
Straight on came the River Queen, her pilot seemingly unaware of the little boat low in the water and directly in the path.
"They don't see us!" Jack shouted hoarsely. "We'll be run down!"
The ferryboat now was very close. Its dark hull loomed up. Expecting a splintering crash, Penny struggled to her feet, preparing to jump overboard. But instead, she heard a series of sharp whistle toots, and the ferryboat swerved, missing them by a scant three yards.
"Wow! Was that close!" Jack muttered, collapsing weakly on the seat. Then he straightened up again into alert attention, for the ferry had reduced speed.
"Maybe we're going to be picked up!" he exclaimed.
The ferryboat indeed had maneuvered so that the current would swing the drifting craft directly toward it.
Five minutes later, wet and bedraggled, the three stranded sailors scrambled up a lowered ladder onto the River Queen's slippery deck. A few curious passengers who braved the rain, stared curiously at them as they sought shelter.
"Well, if it isn't Jack Gandiss, and in trouble again!" boomed Captain Barker, owner of the ferry. He was a short, stubby, red-faced man, with twinkling blue eyes. "What happened this time? Engine conk out?"
"We ran out of gas," the boy admitted briefly. "Thanks for picking us up."
"Better thank Sally here," replied the captain, giving orders for the motorboat to be taken in tow. "It was her sharp eyes that picked you up out o' the storm."
Penny turned to see a dark-haired girl of her own age standing in the doorway of the pilot house. In oilskin hat and coat, one easily might have mistaken her for a boy. Impatiently she brushed aside a strand of wet hair which straggled from beneath the ugly headgear, and came out on the rain-swept deck.
"Well, well, if it isn't Jack!" she chortled, enjoying the boy's discomfiture. "Imagine an old tar like you running out of gas!"
"Never mind the cracks!" he retorted grimly. "Just go back to your knitting!"
Turning her back upon Jack, Sally studied Penny with curious interest.
"Do I know you?" she inquired.
"My father and I are to be guests at the Gandiss home," Penny explained, volunteering their names. "We were on our way to Shadow Island when we ran out of gas."
"Let's not go into all the gory details here," Jack broke in. "We're getting wet."
"You mean you are all wet," corrected Sally, grinning.
"Sally, take our guests to the cabin," Captain Barker instructed with high good humor. "I'll handle the wheel. We're late on our run now."
