Front matter (continued 3)

"Hi, you boys!" came the muffled voice of Skipper Pandrick from below, "couple on the pump-line and send the nozzle end below. There's something here, sure enough."

As he said this another balloon of smoke floated up through the open hatch. It was seen from the station of the passengers. Darry jumped up and ran to the hatchway.

"What's he doing? Smoking down there?" he demanded.

"It's sure a bad cigar, boss, if he's smoking it," said one of the men, grinning.

"Oh, Darryl" gasped Jessie. "The yacht is on fire!"

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the young man, rather impolitely it must be confessed.

He started to descend into the hold. The skipper's voice rose out of it:

"Get away from there! This ain't any place for you, Mr. Darry. Hustle that pipe-line."

"Is it serious, Skipper?" demanded the young collegian, anxiously.

"I don't know how bad it is yet. Tell the helmsman to head nor'east. Maybe we'd better make for some anchorage, after all."

Darry ran to the wheelhouse. The other passengers began to get excited. Nell ran to her father and told him what she had first discovered.

"Well, having discovered the fire in time, undoubtedly they will be able to put it out," said Dr. Stanley, comfortingly.

But this did not prove to be easy. Skipper Pandrick had to come up after a while for a breath of cool air and to remove his oilskins. Darry and Burd got into overalls and helped in handling the hose. The steam needed to work the pump, however, brought the engines down to a very slow movement. The Marigold scarcely kept her headway.

The fire, which had undoubtedly been smouldering a long time, was obstinate. The water the skipper and his helpers poured upon it raised the level of water in the bilge until Darry declared he feared the yacht would be water-logged.

Meanwhile the wind grew in savageness. Instead of being gusty, it blew more and more violently out of the northeast. When the helmsman tried to head into it, under the skipper's relayed instructions by Darry, the lack of steam kept the old Marigold marking time instead of forging ahead.

"If we have to put the steam to the pump to clear the bilge after this," grumbled the pessimistic Burd, "we'll never reach any shelter. Might as well run for the Bermudas."

"Won't that be fine!" cried Amy. "I have always wanted to go to the Bermudas, and we've never gone."

"Fine girl, you," retorted Burd. "You don't know when you are in danger."

"Fire's out!" announced Amy. "The skipper says so. And I am not afraid of a capful of wind."

There was more danger, however, than the girls imagined. The water that had been poured into the yacht's hold did not make her any more seaworthy. It was necessary to start the pump to try to clear the hold.

The clapperty-clap; clapperty-clap! of the pump and the water swishing across the deck to be vomited out of the hawse holes was nothing to add to the passengers' feelings of confidence. Besides, the water came very clear, and at its appearance the skipper looked doleful.

"What's the matter, Skipper?" asked Darry, seeing quickly that something was still troubling the old man.

"Why, Mr. Darry, that don't look good to me and that's a fact," the sailing master said.

"Why not? The pump is clearing her fast."

"Is it?" grumbled Pandrick, shaking his head.

"Of course it is!" exclaimed Darry, with some exasperation. "Don't be an Old Man of the Sea."

"That's exactly what I am, Mr. Darry," said the skipper. "I'm so old a hand at sea that I'm always looking for trouble. I confess it. And I see trouble—and work for all hands—right here."

"What do you mean?" asked Jessie, who chanced to be by. "The pump works all right just as Darry says, doesn't it?"

"But, by gorry!" ejaculated the skipper, "it looks as though we were just pumping the whole Atlantic through her seams."

"Goodness! What do you mean?" Jessie demanded.

"You think she is leaking?" asked Darry, in some trouble.

"Bilge ain't clean water like that," answered Pandrick. "That's as clear as the sea itself. Mind you! I don't say she leaks more'n enough to keep her sweet. But if those pumps don't suck purt' soon, I shall have my suspicions."

"Darry!" ejaculated Jessie, "your yacht is falling apart. What are we going to do?"

"I don't believe it," muttered Darry.

He had, however, to admit it after a time. It seemed as though the Marigold were suffering one misfortune after another. The fire, which might have been very serious, was extinguished; but the yacht lay deep in the troubled sea, rolling heavily, and the water pumped through the pipe was plainly seeping in through the seams of her hull.

"Goodness me! shall we have to take to the boat and the life raft?" demanded Amy.

It was scarcely possible to joke much about the situation. Even Amy Drew's "famous line of light conversation" could not keep up their spirits.

The wind continued to blow harder and harder. The yacht could no longer head into it. Dr. Stanley looked grave. Nell, first frightened by her discovery of the fire in the hold, was now in tears.

To add to the seriousness of the situation, there was not another vessel in sight.

CHAPTER XXII

A RADIO CALL THAT FAILED

"Of course," Amy said composedly, "if worse comes to worst, we can send the news by radio that the yacht is sinking and bring to our rescue somebody—somebody——"

"Yes, we can!" exclaimed Burd Alling. "A revenue cutter, I suppose? Don't you suppose the United States Government has anything better to do than to look out for people who don't know enough to look out for themselves?"

"That seems to be the Government's mission a good deal of the time," replied Dr. Stanley, with a smile. "But you don't think it will be necessary to call for help, do you, Darrington?" he asked the sober-looking owner of the yacht.

"Well, the fire's out, that's sure——"

"You bet it is!" growled Burd. "It had to be out, there's so much water in the hold."

"But we are not sinking!" cried Amy.

"Lucky we're not," said Burd. "The radio doesn't work."

"Why, how you talk," Nell said admonishingly. "You would scare us if we did not know you so well, Burd."

"You don't know the half of it!" exclaimed the young fellow. "Fuel is getting low, too. Skipper wants us to work the pump by hand. That means Darry and me to 'man the pumps.'"

"And we can help," said Jessie, cheerfully. "If the skipper thinks he needs to make more steam for the engines, why can't we all take turns at the pump?"

"Sounds like a real shipwreck story," her chum observed, but doubtfully.

"It will cause a mutiny," declared Burd. "I didn't ship on the Marigold to work like Old Bowser on the treadmill. And that is about how I feel."

"You can get out and walk if you don't like it," Darry reminded him.

"And I suppose you think I wouldn't. For two cents——"

Just then the yacht pitched sharply and Burd almost lost his footing. The waves were really boisterous and occasionally a squall of rain swooped down and, with the spray, wet the entire deck and those upon it.

Jessie was not greatly afraid of the elements or of what they could do to the yacht. But she was made anxious by the repetition of the statement that the radio was out of order. Originally the Marigold had had a small wireless plant, with storage batteries. Signals by Morse could be exchanged with other ships and with stations ashore within a limited distance.

But when Darry had bought the radio receiving set he had disconnected the broadcasting machine and linked up the regenerative circuit with the stationary batteries. As he had explained to Jessie, both systems could not be used at once.

They had found that neither the receiving set nor the old wireless set worked well. It looked as though the boys had overlooked something in rigging the new set and the radio girls quite realized that in this emergency a general and perhaps a thorough overhauling of the wires and connections would be necessary to discover just where the fault lay.

Jessie called Amy, and they went up into the little wireless room behind the wheelhouse where everything about the plant but the batteries were in place. This was a very different outfit from that in the great station at the old lighthouse on Station Island, which they had visited several days before.

"If we only knew as much as that operator does about wireless," sighed Jessie to her chum, "there might be some hope of our untangling all this and finding out the trouble."

"He said he had been five years at it and didn't know so very much," Amy reminded her dryly.

"Oh, there will always be something new to learn about radio, of course," her chum agreed. "But if we had his training in the fundamentals of radio, we would be equipped to handle such a mess as this. To tell you the truth, Amy, I think these two boys have made a cat's cradle of this thing."

"And Darry spent more than a year aboard a destroyer and was trained to 'listen in' for submarines and all that!"

"An entirely different thing from knowing how to rig wireless," commented Jessie, getting down on her knees to look under the shelf to which the posts were screwed. "Oh, dear!" she added, as she bumped her head. "I wish this boat wouldn't pitch so."

"So say we all of us. What can I do, Jess?"

"Not a thing—for a moment. Let me see: The general rules of radio are easily remembered. The incoming oscillations that have been intercepted by the antenna above the roof of the house are applied across the grid and filament of the detector tube——"

"That's this jigger here," put in Amy, as Jessie struggled up again.

"Yes. That is the tube. Through the relay action of the tube, an amplified current flows through the plate circuit—here. Now," added Jessie thoughtfully, "if we couple this plate circuit back—No! This is a simple circuit. It is like our old one, Amy. We can't get much action out of this set. It is not like the new one we are putting in the bungalow."

"Well, the thing is, can we use it?" Amy demanded. "Can you link the power, or whatever you call it, up with the sending paraphernalia and get an S O S over the water?"

"Goodness, Amy! don't talk as though you thought we were really in danger."

"Humph! I see the Reverend, as Nell calls him, out there with his coat off, in his shirt-sleeves, taking a turn with Burd at the pumps. They have rigged it for man power and are saving steam for the engines."

"Let me see!" cried Jessie, peering out of the clouded window too. "You'd never think he was a minister. Isn't he nice?"

Amy began to laugh. "Are all ministers supposed to be such terrible people?"

"No-o," admitted Jessie, going back to the radio set. "But good as they usually are, we have the very best minister at the Roselawn Church, of any."

"Yep. So we must plan to save him if anything happens," giggled Amy.

"Let's open the switch and see if we can get anything," her chum said reflectively, picking up the head harness.

"You mean hear if we can get anything," corrected Amy.

"Never mind splitting hairs, my dear. Is that the switch? Yes. Now!"

She put on the rigging, but all she got out of the air, as she sadly confessed, were sounds like an angry cat spitting at a puppydog.

"It isn't just static," she told Amy. "You try it. There is something absolutely wrong with this thing. See! We don't get a spark."

"If we did we couldn't read the letters."

"I believe I could read some Morse if it came slowly enough," said Jessie, nodding. "But it is sending, not receiving, I am thinking of, Amy Drew."

Amy began to look more serious. Jessie was harping on a possibility she did not wish to admit was probable. She went out and, hunting up Darry, demanded to know just how bad he thought they were off, anyway.

"Well, Sis, there is no use making a wry face about it," the collegian said. "But you see how hard the Reverend and Burd are working, and they can't keep ahead of the water. The poor old Marigold really is leaking."

"Is she going to sink? Can't we get to land—somewhere? Can't we go back to the island?"

"Shucks, Sis! You know we are miles from Station Island. We are off Montauk—or we were this morning. But we are heading out to sea now—sou'-sou'east. Can't head into this gale. She pitches too much."

"And—and isn't there any help for us, Darry Drew?"

"We don't need any help yet, do we?" he demanded pluckily. "She is making good weather of it——"

Just then the yacht rolled so that he had to grab the rail with one hand and Amy with the other, and both of them were well shaken up.

"Woof!" gasped Darry, as they came out of the smother of spray.

"Oh!" exploded Amy. "I swallowed a pail of water that time. Ugh! How bitter the sea is. Now, Darry, I guess we'll have to send out signals, sha'n't we?"

"How can we? I've tried the old radio already. She is as dumb as the proverbial oyster with the lockjaw."

"Jessie is going to fix it," said Amy, with some confidence.

"Yes she is! She's some smart girl, I admit," her brother observed. "But I guess that is a job that will take an expert."

"You just see!" cried Amy. "You think she can't do anything because she's a girl."

"Bless you! Girls equal the men nowadays. I hold Jessie as little less than a wonder. But if a thing can't be done——"

"That is what you think because you tried it and failed."

"Huh!"

"We radio girls will show you!" declared Amy, her head up and preparing to march back to her chum the next time the deck became steady.

But when she started so proudly the yacht rolled unexpectedly and Amy, screaming for help, went sliding along the deck to where Dr. Stanley and Burd were pumping away to clear the bilge. She was saturated—and much meeker in deportment—when Burd fished her out of the scuppers.

CHAPTER XXIII

ONLY HOPE

The condition of the Marigold was actually much more serious than the Roselawn girls at first supposed. Jessie and Amy were so busy in the radio house for a couple of hours and were so interested in what they were doing that they failed to observe that the hull of the yacht was slowly sinking.

Fortunately the wind decreased after a while; but by that time it was scarcely safe to head the yacht into the wind's eye, as the skipper called it. She wallowed in the big seas in a most unpleasant way and it was fortunate indeed that all the passengers were good sailors.

Nell came and looked into the radio room once or twice; then she felt so bad that she went below to lie down. The doctor worked as hard as any man aboard. And his cheerfulness was always infectious.

The minister knew that they were in peril. He would have been glad to see a rescuing vessel heave into sight. But he gave no sign that he considered the situation at all uncertain or perilous in the least.

The afternoon was passing. Another night on the open sea without knowing if the yacht would weather the conditions, was a matter for grave consideration. The doctor and Darry conferred with Skipper Pandrick.

"'Tis hard to say," the sailing master observed. "There is no knowing what may happen. If the yacht was not so water-logged we might get in under our own steam——"

"But we can't make steam enough!" cried Darry.

"Well, no, we don't seem to," admitted the skipper.

"And to what port would you sail?" asked Dr. Stanley.

"Well, now, there's not any handy just now, I admit. If we head back for the land we may be thrown on our beam-ends, I will say. The waves are big ones, as you see."

"You are not very encouraging, Skipper," said the minister.

"I wouldn't be raising any false hopes in your mind, sir," said Pandrick.

"You're a jolly old wet blanket, you are," declared Darry to the sailing master. "What shall we do?"

"We'll have to take what comes to us," declared the skipper.

"You are a fatalist, Mr. Pandrick," said the minister, and Darry was glad to hear him laugh cheerily.

"No, sir. I'm a Universalist," declared the seaman. "And I've all the hope in the world that we'll come out of this all right."

"But can't we do something to help ourselves?" demanded the exasperated Darry.

"Not much that I know of. Here's hoping the wind goes down and we have calm weather and see the sun again."

"Hope all you like," growled the young fellow. "I am going to see if the girls aren't able to bring something to pass with that radio."

He found his sister and Jessie rearranging a part of the circuit on the set-board. They were very much in earnest. Thus far, however, they had been unable to get a clear signal out of the air, nor could they send one.

"If we could reach another vessel, or a shore station, and tell them where the yacht is and that she is leaking, we'd be all right, shouldn't we, Darry?" Jessie asked earnestly.

"But I am not at all sure we need help," he said, in doubt.

"We may need it!" exclaimed his sister.

"Why—yes, we may," he admitted, though rather grudgingly.

"Then we want to get this fixed," Jessie declared. "But there is something wrong here. Do you see this Darry? It seems to me that there must be a part missing. When you and Burd set this up are you sure you followed the instructions of the book in every particular?"

"Of course we did," Darry said.

"Of course we didn't!" exclaimed Burd's voice from the doorway.

"What are you saying?" demanded his friend, promptly.

"What I know. Don't you remember that you lost the instruction book overboard sometime there, when we were getting the bothersome thing fixed?"

"So I did," confessed Darry. "But, say! she was all right then."

"She hasn't ever been all right," accused his chum, "and you know it."

"We sent code signals by the old machine, all right."

"But we've never been able to since we linked it up with this receiving set, and you know it," said Burd.

"It sounds to me," said Amy, "as though neither one of you boys knew so awfully much about it."

"I know one thing," said Jessie, with determination. "All the parts are not here. These connections are not like any I ever saw before. It is a mystery to me——"

"Hold on!" exclaimed Darry Drew suddenly. "What did we do with all those little cardboard boxes and paper tubes the parts came in? Couldn't be we overlooked anything, Burd?"

"Don't try to hang it on me!" exclaimed his chum. "I never claimed to know a thing about radio. You were the Big Noise when we put the contraption together."

"Aw, you! Where did we put the things left over?"

"There he goes!" exclaimed the confirmed joker. "He's like the fellow who took the automobile apart to fix it and had a bushel of parts left over when he was done. He doesn't know——"

"Beat it out of here," roared Darry, "and find that box we put the stuff into. You know."

Dr. Stanley came up to the radio room while Burd was searching for the rubbish box. The clergyman spoke cheerfully, but he looked very grave.

"Is there any likelihood of our being able to send out a call for assistance, Jessie?" he asked, quietly.

"I don't see how we can, Doctor Stanley, until we fix this radio set. We can't get any spark. We have to be able to get a spark to send a message. The message will be stumbling enough, I am afraid, even if we fix the thing, for none of us understands Morse very well. Unless Darry——"

"Don't look to me for help," declared the collegian. "I haven't sent a message since we put the yacht in commission. We had a fellow aboard here until the other day who knew something about wireless and he was the operator. Not me."

"Amy and I have a code book with the alphabet in it," said Jessie slowly. "I think if somebody read the dots and dashes to me I could send a short message. But there is something wrong with this circuit."

Just then Burd Alling came back. He brought with him a big corrugated cardboard container. In that the various parts of the radio outfit had been packed.

"What do you think about it?" he asked. "There is something here that I never saw before. See this jigamarig, Jess? Think it belongs on the contraption?"

"Oh!" cried Jessie, eagerly, pouncing on the small object that Burd held out to her. "I know what that is."

"Then you beat me. I don't," declared Burd.

"Let's see what else there is," said Darry, diving into the box. "I left you to get out the parts, Burd; you know I did."

"Oh, splash!" exclaimed his friend. "We might as well admit that we don't know as much about radio as these girls. They leave us lashed to the post."

But Jessie and Amy did not even feel what at another time Amy would have called "augmented ego." The occasion was too serious.

The day was passing into evening, and a very solemn evening it was. The wind whined through the strands of the wire rigging. The waves knocked the yacht about. The passengers all felt weary and forlorn.

The two girl chums felt the situation less acutely than anybody else, perhaps, because they were so busy. That radio had to be repaired. That is what Jessie told Amy, and Amy agreed. The safety of the whole yacht's company seemed dependent upon what the two radio girls could do.

"And we must not fall down on it, Jess," Amy said vigorously. "How goes it now?"

"This thing that Burd found goes right in here. We have got to reset a good part of the circuit to do it. I don't see how the boys could have made such a mistake."

"Proves what I have always maintained," declared Amy Drew. "We girls are smarter than those boys, even if the said boys do go to college. Bah! What is college, anyway?"

"Just a prison," said Burd sepulchrally from the doorway.

"Close that door!" exclaimed Jessie. "Don't let that spray drift in here."

"Yes. Do go away, Burd, and see if the yacht is sinking any more. Don't bother us," commanded Amy.

The men were keeping the pumps at work, but it was an anxious time. It was long dark and the lamps were lighted when Jessie pronounced the set complete. Darry and Burd came in again and asked what they could do?

"Root for us. Nothing more," said Amy. "Jessie has fixed this thing and she is going to have the honor of sending the message—if a message can be sent."

"Well," remarked Burd Alling, "I guess it is up to you girls to save the situation. I have just found out that there isn't as much provender as I was given reason to believe when we started. We ought to be in Boston right now. And see where we are!"

"That is exactly what we can't see," said Jessie. "But we must know. Did you get the latitude and longitude from the skipper, Darry?"

"Yes. Here it is, approximately. He got a chance to shoot the sun this noon."

"The cruel thing!" gibed his sister. "But anyway, I hope he has got the situation near enough so some vessel can find us."

"Let us see, first, if we can send a message intelligibly," said Jessie, putting on the head harness, and speaking seriously. "It will be awful, perhaps, if we can't. I know that the yacht is almost unmanageable."

"You've said something," returned Burd. "The fuel is low, as well as the supplies in the galley. We haven't got much left——"

"But hope," said Jessie, softly.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE

Henrietta Haney was a very lonely little girl after the yacht sailed from Station Island. Not that she had nobody to play with, for she had. There were other children besides Sally Stanley of her own age, or thereabout, in the bungalow colony. And as she had been in Dogtown, Henrietta soon became the leading spirit of her crowd.

She even taught them some of her games, and once more became "Spotted Snake, the Witch," and scared some of the children almost as much as she had scared the Dogtown youngsters with her supposed occult powers.

She was running and screaming and tearing her clothes most of the time when she was away from Mrs. Norwood, but in the company of Jessie's mother she truly tried to "be a little lady."

"Be it ever so painful, little Hen is going to learn to be worthy of you and Jessie, Mary," laughed Mrs. Drew, who was like her daughter in being able always to see the fun in things. "What do you really expect will come of the child?"

"I think she will make quite a woman in time. And before that time arrives," added Mrs. Norwood, "she has much to learn, as you say. In some ways Henrietta has had an unhappy childhood—although she doesn't know it. I hope she will have better times from now on."

"You are sure to make her have good times, Mary," said Mrs. Drew. "I hope she will appreciate all that Jessie and you do for her."

"She is rather young for one to expect appreciation from her," Mrs. Norwood said, smiling. "But the little thing is grateful."

Without Jessie and Amy, however, Henrietta confessed she was very lonely. Sometimes she listened to the radio all alone, sitting quietly and hearing even lectures and business talks out of the air that ordinarily could not have interested the child. But she said it reminded her of "Miss Jessie" just to sit with the ear-tabs on.

She had heard about the older girls going to the lighthouse station to interview the wireless operator there, and although Henrietta knew that the government reservation at that end of the island was no part of the old Padriac Haney estate, she wandered down there alone on the second day of the yacht's absence and climbed up into the tower.

The storm had blown itself out on shore, and the sun was going down in golden glory. Out at sea, although the waves still rolled high and the clouds were tumultuous in appearance, there was nothing to threaten a continuation of the unsettled weather.

Henrietta had no idea how long it would be before the yacht reached Boston, although she had heard a good deal of talk about it. She had watched the Marigold steam out of sight into the east, and it seemed to the little girl that her friends were just there, beyond the horizon line, where she had seen the last patch of the Marigold's smoke disappear.

The wireless operator had seen Henrietta before, cavorting about the beach and leading the other children in their play, and he was prepared for some of her oddities. But she surprised him by her very first speech.

"You're the man that can send words out over the ocean, aren't you?"

"I can send signals," he admitted, but rather puzzled.

"Can folks like Miss Jessie and Miss Amy hear 'em?" demanded Henrietta.

"Only if they are on a boat that has a wireless outfit."

"They got it on that Marigold," announced Henrietta.

"Oh! The yacht that sailed yesterday! Yes, she carried antenna."

"And she carried Doctor Stanley and Miss Nell Stanley, too, besides the boys, Mr. Darry and Mr. Burd," said Henrietta. "Then they can hear you?"

"If they know how to use the wireless they could catch a signal from this station."

"Miss Jessie knows all about radio," said Henrietta. "She made it."

"Oh, she did?"

"Yes. She made it all up. She and Miss Amy built them one at Roselawn. That was before Montmorency Shannon built his. Well, Miss Jessie is out there on the Marigold."

"So I understand," said the much amused operator.

"I wish you would—please—send her word that I'd like to have her come back to my island."

"Are you the little girl who owns this island? I've heard about you."

"Yes. But there ain't much fun on an island if your friends aren't on it, too. And Miss Jessie is one of my very dearest friends."

"I understand," said the operator gravely, seeing the little girl's lip trembling. "You would like to have me reach your friend, Miss Jessie——"

"Her name's Norwood, too," put in Henrietta, to make sure.

"Oh, indeed? She is the lawyer, Mr. Norwood's daughter. I have met her."

"Yes, sir. She came here once."

"And you wish to send her a message if it is possible?"

"Yes, sir. I want you should ask her to get to Boston as quick as she can and come back again. We would all like to have her come," said the little girl, gravely.

"I am going to be on duty myself this evening and I will try to get your message through," said the operator kindly. "The Marigold, is it?" and he drew the code book toward him in which the signal for every vessel sailing from American ports, even pleasure craft, that carries wireless, is listed.

He turned around to his instrument right then and began to rap out the call for the yacht. He kept it up, off and on, between his other work, all the evening. But no answer was returned.

The operator began to be somewhat puzzled by this fact. Knowing how much interested in radio the girls were who had visited him, he could not understand why they would not be listening in at some time or other on the yacht.

He kept throwing into the ether the signal meant for the Marigold's call until almost midnight, when he expected to be relieved by his partner. Towards ten o'clock there was some bothersome signals in the ether that annoyed him whenever he took a message or relayed one in the course of the evening's business.

"Some amateur op. is interfering," was his expression. "But, I declare! it does sound something like this station call. Can it be——?"

He lengthened his spark and sent thundering out on the air-waves his usual reply:

"I, I, O K W. I, I, O K W."

Then he held his hand and waited for any return. The same mysterious, scraping sounds continued. A slow hand, he believed, was trying to spell out some message in Morse. But it was being done in a very fumbling manner.

Of course, half a dozen shore stations and perhaps half a hundred vessels might have caught the clumsy message, as well. But the operator at Station Island, interested by little Henrietta in the Marigold and her company, felt more than puzzlement over this strange communication out of the air.

"Listen in here, Sammy," he said to his mate, when the latter came in. "Is it just somebody's squeak-box making trouble to-night or am I hearing a sure-enough S O S? I wonder if there is a storm at sea?"

"There is," said his mate, sitting down on the bench and taking up the secondary head harness. "The evening papers are full of it. Northeast gale, and blowing like kildee right now."

"Arlington gave no particulars at last announcement."

"Don't make any difference. The boats outside know it. Hullo! What's this? 'S-t-a-t-i-o-n I-s-l-a-n-d.' What's the joke? Somebody calling us without using the code letters?"

"Don't know 'em, maybe," said the chief operator. "Set down what you get and see if it is like mine."

The other did so. They compared notes. That strange message set both operators actively to work. One began swiftly to distribute over the Eastern Atlantic the news that a craft needed help in such and such a latitude and longitude. The other operator, without his hat, ran all the way to the bungalows to give Mr. Norwood and Mr. Drew some very serious news.

CHAPTER XXV

SAVED BY RADIO

Jessie Norwood was not tireless. It seemed to her as though her right arm would drop off, she pressed the key of the wireless instrument so frequently. They had written out a brief call of distress, and finally she got it by heart so that Amy did not have to read her the dots and dashes.

But it was a slow process and they had no way of learning if the message was caught and understood by any operator, either ashore or on board a vessel. Hour after hour went slowly by. The Marigold was sinking. The pumps could not keep up with the incoming water; the fuel was almost exhausted and the engines scarcely turned over; the buffeting seas threatened the craft every minute.

Dr. Stanley remained outwardly cheerful. Darry and the others took heart from the clergyman's words.

"Tell you what," said Burd. "If we are wrecked on a desert island I shall be glad to have the doctor along. He'd have cheered up old Robinson Crusoe."

As the evening waned and the sea continued to pound the hull of the laboring yacht the older people aboard, at least, grew more anxious. The young folks in the radio room chattered briskly, although Jessie called them to account once in a while because they made so much noise she could not be sure that she was sending correctly.

Darry tried to relieve her at the key, but he confessed that he "made a mess of it." The radio girls had spent more time and effort in learning to handle the wireless than the collegians—both Darry and Burd acknowledged it.

"These are some girls!" Darry said, admiringly.

"You spoil 'em," complained Burd Alling. "Want to be careful what you say to them."

"Oh, if anybody can stand a little praise it is Jess and I," declared Amy, sighing with weariness.

Nobody cared to turn in. The situation was too uncertain. The boys could be with the girls only occasionally, for they had to take their turn at the pumps. It had come to pass that nothing but steady pumping kept the yacht from sinking. They were all thankful that the wind decreased and the waves grew less boisterous.

Towards midnight it was quite calm, only the swells lifted the water-logged yacht in a rhythmic motion that finally became unpleasant. Nell was ill, below; but the others remained on deck and managed to weather the nauseating effects of the heaving sea.

Meanwhile, as often as she could, Jessie Norwood sent out into the air the cry for assistance. She sent it addressed to "Station Island," for she did not know that each wireless station had a code signal—a combination of letters. But she knew there was but one Station Island off the coast.

The clapperty-clap, clapperty-clap of the pumps rasped their nerves at last until, as Amy declared, they needed to scream! When the sound stopped for the minute while pump-crews were changed, it was a relief.

And finally the spark of the wireless began to skip and fall dead. Good reason! The storage batteries, although very good ones, were beginning to fail. Before daybreak it was impossible to use the sender any more.

Somehow this fact was more depressing than anything that had previously happened. They could only hope, in any event, that their message had been heard and understood; but now even this sad attempt was halted.

Jessie was really too tired to sleep. She and Amy did not go below for long. They changed their clothes and came on deck again and were very glad of the hot cup of coffee Dr. Stanley brought them from the galley. The cook had been set to work on one of the pump crews.

The girls sat in the deck chairs and stared off across the rolling gray waters. There was no sign of any other vessel just then, but a dim rose color at the sea line showed where the sun would come up after a time.

"But a fog is blowing up from the south, too," said Amy. "See that cloud, Jess? My dear! Did you ever expect that we would be sitting here on Darry's yacht waiting for it to sink under us?"

"How can you!" exclaimed Jessie, aghast.

"Well, that is practically what we are doing," replied her chum. "Thank goodness I have had this cup of coffee, anyway. It braces me——"

"Even for drowning?" asked Jessie. "Oh! What is that, Amy?"

"It's a boat! It's a boat! Ship ahoy!" shrieked Amy, jumping up and dancing about, dropping the cup and saucer to smash upon the deck.

"It's a steamboat!" cried Darry Drew, from the deck above.

"Head for it if you can, Bob!" commanded Skipper Pandrick to the helmsman.

But before they could see what kind of craft the other was, the fog surrounded them. It wrapped the Marigold around in a thick mantle. They could not see ten yards from her rail.

"We don't even know if she is looking for us!" exclaimed Dr. Stanley. "That is too bad—too bad."

"Whistle for it," urged Amy. "Can't we?"

"If we use the little steam left for the whistle, we will have to shut down the engines," declared Darry.

"This is a fine yacht—I don't think!" scoffed Burd Alling. "And none of you knows a thing about rescuing this boat and crew but me. Watch me save the yacht."

He marched forward and began to work the foot-power foghorn vigorously. Its mournful note (not unlike a cow's lowing, as Jessie had said) reverberated through the fog. The sound must have carried miles upon miles.

But it was nearly an hour before they heard any reply. Then the hoarse, brief blast of a tug whistle came to their ears.

"Marigold, ahoy!" shouted a well-known voice across the heaving sea.

"Daddy!" screamed Jessie, springing up and dropping her cup and saucer, likewise to utter ruin. "It's Daddy Norwood!"

The big tug wallowed nearer. She carried wireless, too, and the Marigold's company believed, at once, that Jessie's message had been received aboard the Pocahontas.

"But—then—how did Daddy Norwood come aboard of her?" Jessie demanded.

This was not explained until later when the six passengers were taken aboard the tug and hawsers were passed from the sinking yacht to the very efficient Pocahontas.

"And a pretty penny it will cost, so the skipper says, to get her towed to port," Darry complained.

"Say!" ejaculated Burd, "suppose she didn't find us at all and we were paddling around in that boat and on the life raft? That would take the permanent wave out of your hair, old grouch!"

The girls, however, and Dr. Stanley as well, begged Mr. Norwood to explain how he had come in search of the Marigold and had arrived so opportunely.

"Nothing easier," said the lawyer. "When the operator at the lighthouse station got your message——"

"Oh, bully, Jess! You did it!" cried Amy, breaking in.

"Did you send that message, Jessie?" asked her father. "Well, I am proud of you. The operator came to the house and told me. Although his partner was sending the news of your predicament broadcast over the sea, he told me of the tug lying behind the island, and that it could be chartered.

"So," explained Mr. Norwood, "I left Drew to fortify the women—and little Henrietta—and went right over and was rowed out to the Pocahontas by an old fisherman who said he knew you girls. I believe he pronounced you 'cleaners,' if you know what that means," laughed the lawyer.

"Henrietta, by the way, was doing incantations of some sort over the wind and weather when I left the bungalow. She said 'Spotted Snake' could bring you all safe home."

"Bless her heart!" exclaimed Jessie.

That afternoon when the tug worked her way carefully into the dock near the bungalow colony on Station Island, Henrietta was the first person the returned wanderers saw on the shore to greet them. She was dancing up and down and screaming something that Jessie and Amy did not catch until they came off the gangplank. Then they made the incantation out to be:

"That Ringold one can't have my island—so now! The court says so, and Mr. Drew says so, too. He just got it off the telephone and he told me. It's my island—so there!"

"Why, how glad I am for you, dear!" cried Jessie, running to hug the excited little girl.

"Come ashore! Come ashore! All of you!" cried Henrietta, with a wide gesture. "I invite all of you. This is my island, not that Ringold's. You can come on it and do anything you like!"

"Why, Henrietta!" murmured Jessie, as the other listeners broke into laughter. "You must not talk like that. I am glad the courts have given you your father's property. But remember, there are other people who have rights, too."

"Say! That Ringold one—and that Moon one—haven't any prop'ty on this island, have they?" Henrietta demanded.

"No."

"Then that's all right," said the little girl with satisfaction. "I'll be good, Miss Jessie; oh, I'll be good!" and she hugged her friend again.

"And don't call them 'that Ringold one' and 'that Moon one,' Henrietta. That is not pretty nor polite," admonished Jessie.

"All right, if you say so, Miss Jessie. What you say goes with me. See?"

It took some time, after they were at home, for everything to be talked over and all the mystery of the radio message to be cleared up. The interested operator from the lighthouse came over to congratulate Jessie on what she had done. After all, aside from the girl's addressing the station by name, the message had not been hard to understand. And considering the faulty construction of the yacht's wireless and the weakness of her batteries, Jessie had done very well indeed.

The young people, of course, would have much to talk about regarding the adventure for days to come. Especially Darry. When he learned what he would have to pay for the towing in of the yacht and what it would cost to put in proper engines and calk and paint the hull, he was aghast and began to figure industriously.

"Learning something, aren't you, Son?" chuckled Mr. Drew. "Your Uncle Will pretty near went broke keeping up the Marigold. But I will help you, for I am getting rather fond of the old craft, too."

"We all ought to help," said Mr. Norwood. "I sha'n't want you to scrap the boat, Darry, my boy. I like to think that it was my Jessie saved her from sinking—and saved you all. To my mind radio is a great thing—something more than a toy even for these boys and girls."

"Quite true," Mr. Drew agreed. "When your Jessie and my Amy first strung those wires at Roselawn I thought they were well over it if they didn't break their limbs before they got it finished. When we get back home I think Darry and I would better put up aerials and have a house-set, too. What say, Darry?"

"I'm with you, Father," agreed the young collegian. "But I won't agree to rival Jess and Amy as radio experts. For those two girls take the palm."

THE END

BOOKS FOR GIRLS

By MARGARET PENROSE

12mo. cloth. Illustrated.

RADIO GIRLS SERIES

THE RADIO GIRLS OF ROSELAWN THE RADIO GIRLS ON THE PROGRAM THE RADIO GIRLS ON STATION ISLAND

DOROTHY DALE SERIES

DOROTHY DALE: A GIRL OF TO-DAY DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD SCHOOL DOROTHY DALE'S GREAT SECRET DOROTHY DALE AND HER CHUMS DOROTHY DALE'S QUEER HOLIDAYS DOROTHY DALE'S CAMPING DAYS DOROTHY DALE'S SCHOOL RIVALS DOROTHY DALE IN THE CITY DOROTHY DALE'S PROMISE DOROTHY DALE IN THE WEST DOROTHY DALE'S STRANGE DISCOVERY DOROTHY DALE'S ENGAGEMENT

MOTOR GIRLS SERIES

THE MOTOR GIRLS THE MOTOR GIRLS ON A TOUR THE MOTOR GIRLS AT LOOKOUT BEACH THE MOTOR GIRLS THROUGH NEW ENGLAND THE MOTOR GIRLS ON CEDAR LAKE THE MOTOR GIRLS ON THE COAST THE MOTOR GIRLS ON CRYSTAL BAY THE MOTOR GIRLS ON WATERS BLUE THE MOTOR GIRLS AT CAMP SURPRISE THE MOTOR GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS

THE BARTON BOOKS FOR GIRLS

By MAY HOLLIS BARTON

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. With colored jacket Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid May Hollis Barton is a new writer for girls who is bound to win instant popularity. Her style is somewhat of a mixture of that of Louise M. Alcott and Mrs. L.T. Meade, but thoroughly up-to-date in plot and action. Clean tales that all girls will enjoy reading.

1. THE GIRL FROM THE COUNTRY

or Laura Mayford's City Experiences

Laura was the oldest of five children and when daddy got sick she felt she must do something. She had a chance to try her luck in New York, and there the country girl fell in with many unusual experiences.

2. THREE GIRL CHUMS AT LAUREL HALL

or The Mystery of the School by the Lake

When the three chums arrived at the boarding school they found the other students in the grip of a most perplexing mystery. How this mystery was solved, and what good times the girls had, both in school and on the lake, go to make a story no girl would care to miss.

3. NELL GRAYSON'S RANCHING DAYS

or A City Girl in the Great West

Showing how Nell, when she had a ranch girl visit her in Boston, thought her chum very green, but when Nell visited the ranch in the great West she found herself confronting many conditions of which she was totally ignorant. A stirring outdoor story.

4. FOUR LITTLE WOMEN OF ROXBY

or The Queer Old Lady Who Lost Her Way

Four sisters are keeping house and having trouble to make both ends meet. One day there wanders in from a stalled express train an old lady who cannot remember her identity. The girls take the old lady in, and, later, are much astonished to learn who she really is.

5. PLAIN JANE AND PRETTY BETTY

or The Girl Who Won Out

The tale of two girls, one plain but sensible, the other pretty but vain. Unexpectedly both find they have to make their way in the world. Both have many trials and tribulations. A story of a country town and then a city.

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

BILLIE BRADLEY SERIES

By JANET D. WHEELER

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid 1. BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER INHERITANCE or The Queer Homestead at Cherry Corners Billie Bradley fell heir to an old homestead that was unoccupied and located far away in a lonely section of the country. How Billie went there, accompanied by some of her chums, and what queer things happened, go to make up a story no girl will want to miss.

2. BILLIE BRADLEY AT THREE-TOWERS HALL or Leading a Needed Rebellion

Three-Towers Hall was a boarding school for girls. For a short time after Billie arrived there all went well. But then the head of the school had to go on a long journey and she left the girls in charge of two teachers, sisters, who believed in severe discipline and in very, very plain food and little of it—and then there was a row! The girls wired for the head to come back—and all ended happily.

3. BILLIE BRADLEY ON LIGHTHOUSE ISLAND or The Mystery of the Wreck

One of Billie's friends owned a summer bungalow on Lighthouse Island, near the coast. The school girls made up a party and visited the Island. There was a storm and a wreck, and three little children were washed ashore. They could tell nothing of themselves, and Billie and her chums set to work to solve the mystery of their identity.

4. BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER CLASSMATES or The Secret of the Locked Tower

Billie and her chums come to the rescue of several little children who have broken through the ice. There is the mystery of a lost invention, and also the dreaded mystery of the locked school tower.

5. BILLIE BRADLEY AT TWIN LAKES or Jolly Schoolgirls Afloat and Ashore

A tale of outdoor adventure in which Billie and her chums have a great variety of adventures. They visit an artists' colony and there fall in with a strange girl living with an old boatman who abuses her constantly. Billie befriended Hulda and the mystery surrounding the girl was finally cleared up.

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE RUTH FIELDING SERIES

By ALICE B. EMERSON

12mo. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid Ruth Fielding was an orphan and came to live with her miserly uncle. Her adventures and travels make stories that will hold the interest of every reader. Ruth Fielding is a character that will live in juvenile fiction.

1. RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL 2. RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOODHALL 3. RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP 4. RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT 5. RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH 6. RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND 7. RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM 8. RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES 9. RUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURES 10. RUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIE 11. RUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGE 12. RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE 13. RUTH FIELDING IN THE RED CROSS 14. RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT 15. RUTH FIELDING HOMEWARD BOUND 16. RUTH FIELDING DOWN EAST 17. RUTH FIELDING IN THE GREAT NORTHWEST 18. RUTH FIELDING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE 19. RUTH FIELDING TREASURE HUNTING 20. RUTH FIELDING IN THE FAR NORTH 21. RUTH FIELDING AT GOLDEN PASS 22. RUTH FIELDING IN ALASKA

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

BOOKS FOR GIRLS

THE BETTY GORDON SERIES

By ALICE B. EMERSON

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid A series of stories by Alice B. Emerson which are bound to make this writer more popular than ever with her host of girl readers.

1. BETTY GORDON AT BRAMBLE FARM or The Mystery of a Nobody

At twelve Betty is left an orphan.

2. BETTY GORDON IN WASHINGTON or Strange Adventures in a Great City

Betty goes to the National Capitol to find her uncle and has several unusual adventures.

3. BETTY GORDON IN THE LAND OF OIL or The Farm That Was Worth a Fortune

From Washington the scene is shifted to the great oil fields of our country. A splendid picture of the oil field operations of to-day.

4. BETTY GORDON AT BOARDING SCHOOL or The Treasure of Indian Chasm

Seeking treasures of Indian Chasm makes interesting reading.

5. BETTY GORDON AT MOUNTAIN CAMP or The Mystery of Ida Bellethorne

At Mountain Camp Betty found herself in the midst of a mystery involving a girl whom she had previously met in Washington.

6. BETTY GORDON AT OCEAN PARK or School Chums on the Boardwalk

A glorious outing that Betty and her chums never forgot.

7. BETTY GORDON AND HER SCHOOL CHUMS or Bringing the Rebels to Terms

Rebellious students, disliked teachers and mysterious robberies make a fascinating story.

8. BETTY GORDON AT RAINBOW RANCH or Cowboy Joe's Secret

Betty and her chums have a grand time in the saddle.

9. BETTY GORDON IN MEXICAN WILDS or The Secret of the Mountains

Betty receives a fake telegram and finds both Bob and herself held for ransom in a mountain cave.

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THE LINGER-NOT SERIES

By AGNES MILLER

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid This new series of girls' books is in a new style of story writing. The interest is in knowing the girls and seeing them solve the problems that develop their character. Incidentally, a great deal of historical information is imparted.

1. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE MYSTERY HOUSE or The Story of Nine Adventurous Girls

How the Linger-Not girls met and formed their club seems commonplace, but this writer makes it fascinating, and how they made their club serve a great purpose continues the interest to the end, and introduces a new type of girlhood.

2. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE VALLEY FEUD or The Great West Point Chain

The Linger-Not girls had no thought of becoming mixed up with feuds or mysteries, but their habit of being useful soon entangled them in some surprising adventures that turned out happily for all, and made the valley better because of their visit.

3. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THEIR GOLDEN QUEST or The Log of the Ocean Monarch

For a club of girls to become involved in a mystery leading back into the times of the California gold-rush, seems unnatural until the reader sees how it happened, and how the girls helped one of their friends to come into her rightful name and inheritance, forms a fine story.

4. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE WHISPERING CHARMS or The Secret from Old Alaska

Whether engrossed in thrilling adventures in the Far North or occupied with quiet home duties, the Linger-Not girls could work unitedly to solve a colorful mystery in a way that interpreted American freedom to a sad young stranger, and brought happiness to her and to themselves.

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THE CURLYTOPS SERIES

By HOWARD R. GARIS

Author of the famous "Bedtime Animal Stories"

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid

1. THE CURLYTOPS AT CHERRY FARM or Vacation Days in the Country

A tale of happy vacation days on a farm.

2. THE CURLYTOPS ON STAR ISLAND or Camping out with Grandpa

The Curlytops were delighted when grandpa took them to camp on Star Island.

3. THE CURLYTOPS SNOWED IN or Grand Fun with Skates and Sleds

The Curlytops, with their skates and sleds, on lakes and hills.

4. THE CURLYTOPS AT UNCLE FRANK'S RANCH or Little Folks on Ponyback

Out West on their uncle's ranch they have a wonderful time.

5. THE CURLYTOPS AT SILVER LAKE or On the Water with Uncle Ben

The Curlytops camp out on the shores of a beautiful lake.

6. THE CURLYTOPS AND THEIR PETS or Uncle Toby's Strange Collection

An old uncle leaves them to care for his collection of pets.

7. THE CURLYTOPS AND THEIR PLAYMATES or Jolly Times Through the Holidays

They have great times with their uncle's collection of animals.

8. THE CURLYTOPS IN THE WOODS or Fun at the Lumber Camp

Exciting times in the forest for Curlytops.

9. THE CURLYTOPS AT SUNSET BEACH or What Was Found in the Sand

The Curlytops have a fine time at the seashore, bathing, digging in the sand and pony-back riding.

10. THE CURLYTOPS TOURING AROUND or The Missing Photograph Albums

The Curlytops fall in with a moving picture company and get in some of the pictures.

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THE GIRL SCOUT SERIES

By LILIAN GARIS

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid The highest ideals of girlhood as advocated by the foremost organizations of America form the background for these stories and while unobtrusive there is a message in every volume.

1. THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS or Winning the First B.C.

A story of the True Tred Troop in a Pennsylvania town. Two runaway girls, who want to see the city, are reclaimed through troop influence. The story is correct in scout detail.

2. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE or Maid Mary's Awakening

The story of a timid little maid who is afraid to take part in other girls' activities, while working nobly alone for high ideals. How she was discovered by the Bellaire Troop and came into her own as "Maid Mary" makes a fascinating story.

3. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST or The Wig Wag Rescue

Luna Land, a little island by the sea, is wrapt in a mysterious seclusion, and Kitty Scuttle, a grotesque figure, succeeds in keeping all others at bay until the Girl Scouts come.

4. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG or Peg of Tamarack Hills

The girls of Bobolink Troop spend their summer on the shores of Lake Hocomo. Their discovery of Peg, the mysterious rider, and the clearing up of her remarkable adventures afford a vigorous plot.

5. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE or Nora's Real Vacation

Nora Blair is the pampered daughter of a frivolous mother. Her dislike for the rugged life of Girl Scouts is eventually changed to appreciation, when the rescue of little Lucia, a woodland waif, becomes a problem for the girls to solve.

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE RADIO GIRLS SERIES

By MARGARET PENROSE

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid A new and up-to-date series, taking in the activities of several bright girls who become interested in radio. The stories tell of thrilling exploits, outdoor life and the great part the Radio plays in the adventures of the girls and in solving their mysteries. Fascinating books that girls of all ages will want to read.

1. THE RADIO GIRLS OF ROSELAWN or A Strange Message from the Air

Showing how Jessie Norwood and her chums became interested in radiophoning, how they gave a concert for a worthy local charity, and how they received a sudden and unexpected call for help out of the air. A girl wanted as witness in a celebrated law case disappears, and the radio girls go to the rescue.

2. THE RADIO GIRLS ON THE PROGRAM or Singing and Reciting at the Sending Station

When listening in on a thrilling recitation or a superb concert number who of us has not longed to "look behind the scenes" to see how it was done? The girls had made the acquaintance of a sending station manager and in this volume are permitted to get on the program, much to their delight. A tale full of action and fun.

3. THE RADIO GIRLS ON STATION ISLAND or The Wireless from the Steam Yacht

In this volume the girls travel to the seashore and put in a vacation on an island where is located a big radio sending station. The big brother of one of the girls owns a steam yacht and while out with a pleasure party those on the island receive word by radio that the yacht is on fire. A tale thrilling to the last page.

4. THE RADIO GIRLS AT FOREST LODGE or The Strange Hut in the Swamp

The Radio Girls spend several weeks on the shores of a beautiful lake and with their radio get news of a great forest fire. It also aids them in rounding up some undesirable folks who occupy the strange hut in the swamp.

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