CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A FISH SUPPER
The lake road was only a stone’s throw from the shack, and the boy on horseback was soon at the shore.
“Hello, Daddy Jock!” he cried before he noticed that there were others with his foster-father. Leaping to the ground, he gave an exclamation of pleased surprise, as he cried, “Why, Petey, old man, are you here? I thought you were off somewhere cramming for the entrance examinations.”
The two lads shook hands, but not until Jock Henderson had had a warm hand-clasp from his boy. Everett Peterson laughingly replied, “That’s why I’m down here, Eric. Nice quiet place to study, don’t you think so? But let me do the honors. Miss Peterson, Miss Doring, and Miss Dearman, permit me to introduce you to the scapegrace of our school.”
Eric smilingly bowed to the girls, as he gayly replied, “‘I deny the allegation and I defy the alligator,’ but I am truly pleased to meet three fair maidens in our pine woods.” Then, turning to the old man, who stood proudly watching him, he exclaimed, “Daddy Jock, you haven’t a dog-biscuit or any little thing like that around, have you? I’m so hungry that I could eat more than old Giant Blunderbuss.”
“We would better be going,” Madge declared, “and then you and Mr. Henderson can have your supper.”
“Don’t go, Miss,” Jock Henderson said. “I had great luck this day,—caught a fine mess of trout,—and if you’ll stay we’ll cook them over the camp-fire.”
“I’d powerfully like to accept that invitation!” Everett exclaimed.
Madge turned to the girls. “Adele,” she said, “could you and Eva remain longer?”
Adele glanced at her little wrist-watch as she replied, “It’s nearly five now, and I ought to be home by six.”
“We’ll get you there,” Eric declared. “That is, if home isn’t more than a million miles away.”
“Not a million, quite,” Adele laughingly replied. “We live in Sunnyside. Three miles, I think they call it.”
“No distance at all,” replied the youth. “I’ll put you both on the back of my trusty brown steed and we’ll have you there by six surely. Now, Daddy Jock, show us the fish!”
“Lads, gather the wood and make a fire,” Jock said, “and I’ll have the fish cooked before any of ye have time to starve.”
Then what a merry scurrying there was! Eric and Everett soon had a crackling fire in the circle of stones where a fire was often made, and then, when it had burned down and there was nothing left but red-hot coals, the fish were cooked a delicious brown. Eric brought from the shack thick plates and steel knives and forks. These he handed to the girls with many flourishes.
Eric and Everett soon had a crackling fire.
“Sit ye down anywhere!” Jock called. “Ladies to be served first, and these speckled beauties are done to a turn.”
“Oh-h!” Madge exclaimed, when a tempting brown fish was laid on her plate. “Am I supposed to eat a whole one?”
“Wait till you see me eat a whole twenty,” Eric remarked, as he gave a fish to Adele and another to Eva. Then, bringing out bread and butter and filling their tin cups with sparkling water from a spring, Eric exclaimed, “Now, having filled the immediate wants of our fair guests, I’ll hie me over to the small whale that I see waiting upon my plate.”
“I never, never tasted fish cooked to such perfection!” Madge declared.
A merry meal it was, and when at last there was nothing left but bones, Adele looked at her wrist-watch and then sprang up, exclaiming: “It’s quarter to six. We never can walk to Sunnyside in fifteen minutes!”
“Hark!” cried Eric. “I hear an automobile plunging madly down the lake road. Come on, Petey. Let’s hold them up, whoever they are, and command them, at the point of the gun, to take our fair guests to their destination.”
Snatching up a rifle which stood leaning against the shack, he emptied the barrel as he ran toward the road. The machine had not yet turned the curve, and when it did, the driver was indeed surprised to see two highwaymen standing in the middle of the road, but their laughing, boyish faces showed that they were not very dangerous. Beside the driver a young girl was seated. When the car had slowed down, Eric exclaimed, “Kind sir, if you are going to Sunnyside, we have passengers for you.”
Just then Madge and the two girls emerged from the pine trees, and Adele joyously cried, “Oh, it’s Betty Burd and her Uncle George. Mr. Wainwright, would you mind if we rode with you into town? Mother is expecting us home by six.”
“Why, Adele Doring!” Betty exclaimed before her uncle could reply. “You know we’re glad to have you.”
Then Adele introduced her friends, and Betty asked, “Miss Peterson, wouldn’t you like to ride with us?”
“Why don’t you, Sis?” Everett exclaimed. “It won’t take but a moment for Mr. Wainwright to stop at the inn, and then I’ll stay a spell with my old friend here.”
“Bully! I wish you would!” Eric cried, clapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder. So when the car started again, the three smaller girls were seated on the wide backseat, while Madge Peterson sat with the driver.
Mr. Wainwright drove slowly, because, as he explained, the lake road was in rather poor condition. Adele, hearing this, smiled, for the car had been plunging along when the boys had stopped it.
“Miss Peterson,” Betty’s Uncle George said, with his pleasant smile, “I have met you before, haven’t I?”
“Have you? Where?” Madge glanced up inquiringly, and then she exclaimed, “Oh, yes, I know—at Dora Pendleton’s Musical Tea.”
“And you had some drawings exhibited that day,” Uncle George continued. “I remember that I thought they were excellent.”
Madge smiled, as she said, “I truly did not want to have them exhibited, but Dora Pendleton knew that I was eager to do some illustrating, and she said that several writers would be among the company, and that it might be a good plan to show them samples of my work.”
“A splendid plan!” Uncle George said warmly. “And I am sure that you received an order.”
“I did, indeed!” Madge exclaimed enthusiastically. “And such an interesting one it has proved. Miss Kimberly, the children’s poet, was there, you remember, and she has asked me to illustrate her book of fanciful child-verse. I am having the most beautiful time making the drawings, and, besides that, it pays well and I need the money.”
Adele was surprised to hear this, as she had supposed that Madge Peterson had no need to earn money. When the inn was reached and farewells had been exchanged, Madge called, “I’ll be at the Home on Monday, Eva,” and then the car sped on. Little did the three girls dream of the wonderful something that was going to happen because of that lake-shore ride.