Captain Crane jingled a bell that told the engineer of the motor boat to slow down. Then he steered the Swallow over toward the other motor boat in which was a man waving his hand, as though he wanted the Bobbseys to stop, or at least to come closer, so that he might speak to them.
The Bobbsey twins were wildly excited.
“Hello, Captain Harrison!” called Captain Crane, as soon as the two boats were close enough to talk from one to the other. “Did you want to see me?”
“Well, yes, I did,” answered Captain Harrison, who was on the other motor boat, which was named Sea Foam. “I think I have some news for you.”
“I hope it’s good news,” Captain Crane made reply.
“Yes, I believe it is. Are you going out to rescue a boy from an island quite a way to the south of us?”
“Yes, these friends of mine are going,” answered Captain Crane, pointing to the Bobbseys and to Cousin Jasper, who were sitting on the deck under the shade of an awning. “But how did you know?”
“I just passed Captain Peters in his boat, and he told me about your starting off on a voyage,” went on Captain Harrison. “As soon as I heard what you were going to do, I made up my mind to tell you what I saw. I passed that island, where you are going to look for a lost man—-”
“It’s a lost boy, and not a lost man,” interrupted Captain Crane.
“Well, lost boy, then,” went on Captain Harrison. “Anyhow, I passed that island the other day, and I’m sure I saw some one running up and down on the shore, waving a rag or something.”
“You did!” cried Cousin Jasper, who, with the Bobbseys, was listening to this talk. “Then why in the world didn’t you go on shore and get Jack? Why didn’t you do that, Captain?”
“Because I couldn’t,” answered Captain Harrison. "A big storm was coming up, and I couldn’t get near the place on account of the rocks. But I looked through my telescope, and I’m sure I saw a man—or, as you say, maybe it was a boy—running up and down on the shore of the island, waving something.
"When I found I couldn’t get near the place, on account of the rocks and the big waves, I made up my mind to go back as soon as I could. But the storm kept up, and part of my motor engine broke, so I had to come back here to get it fixed.
“I just got in, after a lot of trouble, and the first bit of news I heard was that you were going to start off for this island to look for some one there. So I thought I’d tell you there is some one on the shore—at least there was a week ago, when I saw the place.”
The Bobbsey twins listened “with all their ears” to this talk, and they wondered what would happen next.
“Well, if Captain Harrison saw Jack there he must be alive,” said Bert to Nan.
“Unless something happened to him afterward in the storm,” remarked Nan.
“I wish we could hurry up and get him,” said Freddie.
“Be quiet, children,” whispered Mrs. Bobbsey. “Captain Crane wants to hear all that the other captain says.”
“S-sh,” hissed Flossie importantly.
“How long ago was this?” asked Captain Crane.
“About a week,” answered Captain Harrison. “I had trouble getting back, so it was a week ago. I tried to see some other boat to send to the island to take off this lost boy, but I didn’t meet any until I got here. Somebody on shore told me about you. Then I thought, as long as you are going there, I’d tell you what I saw.”
“I’m glad you did,” observed Cousin Jasper. “And I’m glad to know that Jack is well enough to be up and around—or that he was when you saw him. We must go there as fast as we can now, and rescue him.”
“Maybe some other boat stopped and took him off the island,” said Captain Harrison.
“Well, maybe one did,” agreed Cousin Jasper. “If so, that’s all the better. But if Jack is still there we’ll get him. Thank you, Captain Harrison.”
Then the two motor boats started up again, one to go on to her dock at St. Augustine and the other—the one with the Bobbsey twins on board—heading for the deep blue sea which lay beyond.
“Do you think you can find Jack?” asked Freddie, as he stood beside Captain Crane, who was steering the Swallow.
“Well, yes, little fat fireman. I hope so,” was the answer. “If Captain Harrison saw him running around the island, waving something for a flag, that shows he was alive, anyhow, and not sick, as he was when the folks took Mr. Dent off. So that’s a good sign.”
“But it was more than a week ago,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “Of course we all hope he can be found, but we must hurry as fast as we can.”
“That’s right,” said Cousin Jasper. “Make the boat go as fast as you can, Captain Crane.”
“I will,” answered the seaman. “You’ll see how quickly my Swallow can skim over the waves.”
Now that they were started on their voyage over the sea the Bobbsey twins had a good chance to get better acquainted with Cousin Jasper. There had been so much to do in getting ready for the trip and in leaving the hotel that they had hardly spoken to him, or he to them.
But now that they were all on board the motor boat, and there was nowhere else to go, and nothing to do, except to sit around on deck, or eat when the meal times came, there was a chance to see Cousin Jasper better and to talk with him more.
“I like him,” said Freddie, as the four twins sat together under an awning out of the sun, and listened to the conversation of the older folk, who were talking about the news given them by Captain Harrison. “I like Cousin Jasper!”
“So do I. And he likes my rubber doll,” said Flossie.
“What makes you think he likes your doll?” asked Nan, with a laugh at her little sister.
“’Cause when I dropped her on the floor in the cabin he picked her up for me and asked if she was hurt.”
“You can’t hurt a rubber doll!” exclaimed Freddie.
“I know you can’t,” said Flossie, “‘ceptin’ maybe when you pretend, and I wasn’t doing that then. But Cousin Jasper brushed the dust off my doll, and he liked her.”
“That was nice of him,” said Bert. “I like Captain Crane, too. He’s going to let me steer the boat, maybe, when we get out where there aren’t any other ships for me to knock into.”
“And he’s going to let me run the engine—maybe,” added Freddie.
“Well, you’d better be careful how you run it,” laughed Bert. “It’s a good deal bigger than your fire engine.”
So the Bobbsey twins talked about Cousin Jasper and Captain Crane, and they were sure they would like both men. As for Cousin Jasper, he really loved the little folk, and had a warm place in his heart for them, though he had not seen any of them since they were small babies.
On and on puffed the Swallow, over the deep blue sea, drawing nearer to the island where they hoped to find Jack Nelson.
“But it will take us some little time to get there, even if nothing happens,” said Cousin Jasper, as they all sat down to dinner in the cabin a little later. The meal was a good one, and Nan and her mother were quite surprised that so much could be cooked in the little kitchen, or “galley,” as Captain Crane called it, for on a ship that is the name of the kitchen.
One of the members of the crew was the cook, and he also helped about the boat, polishing the shiny brass rails, and doing other things, for there is as much work about a boat as there is about a house, as Nan’s mother said to her.
“Yes, Mother, I can see that there is a lot of work to do around a boat like this, especially if they wish to keep it in really nice style,” said Nan. “The sailors have to work just about as hard as the servants do around a house.”
“Yes, my dear, and they have to work in all sorts of weather, too.”
“Well, we have to work in the house even in bad weather.”
“That’s true. But the sailors on a boat often have to work outside on the deck when the weather is very rough.”
“And that must be awfully dangerous,” put in Bert.
“It does become dangerous at times, especially when there is a great storm on.”
“Do you think we’ll run into a storm on this trip?” Nan questioned.
“I’m sure I hope not!” answered the mother quickly. “To run into a big storm with such a small boat as this would be dangerous.”
“Maybe we’d be wrecked and become regular Robinson Crusoes,” said Bert.
“Oh, please, Bert! don’t speak of such dreadful things!” said his mother.
“But that would be fun, Mother.”
“Fun!”
“All right. We won’t be wrecked then.” And Bert and his mother both laughed.
After dinner the Bobbsey twins sat out on the deck, and watched the blue waves. For some little time they could look back and see the shores of Florida, and then, as the Swallow flew farther and farther away, the shores were only like a misty cloud, and then, a little longer, and they could not be seen at all.
“Now we are just as much at sea as when we were on the big ship coming from New York, aren’t we?” Bert asked his father.
“Yes, just about,” answered Mr. Bobbsey.
It was a little while after this that Mrs. Bobbsey, who had gone down to the staterooms, to get a book she had left there, heard Flossie crying.
“What’s the matter, little fairy?” asked her mother, as she came up on deck.
“Oh, Mother, my nice rubber doll is gone, and Freddie took her and now he’s gone,” said Flossie.
“Freddie gone!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey. “What do you mean, Flossie? Where could Freddie go?”
“I don’t know where he went. I guess he didn’t go to look at any colored ladies with baskets on their heads, ’cause there aren’t any here. But he went downstairs, where the engine is, and he took my doll with him. I saw him, and I hollered at him, but he wouldn’t bring her back to me. Oh, I want my doll—my nice rubber doll!” and Flossie cried real tears.
“I must find Freddie,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “I wonder where that boy could have gone this time?”
Although she was a little worried about Freddie, Mrs. Bobbsey felt quite sure nothing very serious could happen to him. He would not go near enough the railing of the deck to fall over, for he and Flossie, as well as Bert and Nan, had promised not to do this while they were on the Swallow. And if the little boy had gone “downstairs,” as Flossie said, he could be in no danger there.
“Even if he went to the motor room,” thought Mrs. Bobbsey, “he could come to no harm, for there is a man there all the while looking after the engine. But I must find him.”
Flossie was still sobbing a little, and looking about the deck as if, by some chance, her doll might still be there.
“Tell me how it happened, Flossie,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.
Her husband was down in the cabin, talking to Captain Crane and Cousin Jasper. The cook was getting things ready for supper, one of the men was steering, and another was looking after the engine. Nan and Bert were up in the bow of the boat, watching the waves and an occasional seagull flying about, and Flossie was with her mother. The only one of her family Mrs. Bobbsey did not know about was Freddie.
“It happened this way,” said Flossie. “I was playing up here with my rubber doll, making believe she was a princess, and I was putting a gold and diamond dress on her, when Freddie came up with a lot of string. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said he was going to fish, and he asked me if I had a piece of cookie.”
“What did he want of a piece of cookie?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“He wanted it to fasten on his line for bait for the fishes, he said,” went on Flossie. “But I didn’t have any cookie. I did have some before that, and so did Freddie. The cook gave them to us, but I did eat all my piece up and so did Freddie. So I didn’t have any for his fishline.”
“Then what happened?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, as she started down the companionway to look for Freddie.
“Well, Freddie asked me to go and get some more cookie from the cook, and I did, ’cause I was hungry and I wanted to eat more. But I couldn’t find the cook, and when I came back upstairs again, and outdoors—here on deck, I mean—I saw Freddie grab up my doll, and run down the other stairs.”
“Oh, well, maybe he only took it in fun,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, and she was not at all worried now, feeling sure Freddie was safe, though he might be in some sort of mischief.
“Anyhow he took my doll,” Flossie went on. “And he wouldn’t bring her back to me when I told him to. Then I—I cried.”
“Yes, I heard you,” said her mother. “But you mustn’t be such a baby, Flossie. Of course it wasn’t right for Freddie to take your doll, but you shouldn’t have cried about a little thing like that. I’ll tell him he mustn’t plague you.”
“But, Mother! he was going to throw my doll into the ocean, I’m sure he was.”
“Oh, no, Flossie! Freddie wouldn’t do a thing like that!”
“But I saw him tying a string to her, and I’m sure he was going to throw her into the ocean.”
“Well, then he could pull her out again.”
“Yes, but I don’t want my doll in the ocean. The ocean is salty, and if salty water gets in her eyes it might spoil them.”
Mrs. Bobbsey wanted to laugh, but she did not dare, for that would have made Flossie feel worse than ever.
“What makes you think Freddie was going to toss your doll into the ocean?” asked Flossie’s mother.
“‘Cause, before that he wanted me to do it to give her a bath. He had a long string and he said, ’let’s tie it to the rubber doll and let her swim in the ocean.’”
“No, he mustn’t do that, of course,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “And I’ll tell him so when I find him. But perhaps he didn’t do it, Flossie.”
“Oh, yes he did!” said the little girl. “When he ran downstairs with my doll, and wouldn’t come back when I hollered at him, he was tying a string on her then. Oh, dear!”
“Never mind! I’ll get your doll back,” Mrs. Bobbsey said. “But first we must find Freddie.”
“He went down those stairs,” said Flossie, pointing to a flight that led to the motor room, where the engine was chug-chugging away, sending the Swallow over the waves. “He went down there.”
The engine room of the motor boat was a clean place, not like the engine room on a steamboat, filled with coal dust and a lot of machinery, and Mrs. Bobbsey knew it would be all right for her and Flossie to go down there and see what Freddie was doing.
“Now don’t cry any more,” Flossie’s mother told her, giving the little girl a handkerchief on which to dry her tears. “We’ll get your doll back, and I’ll have to scold Freddie a little, I think.”
“Maybe you can’t find him,” said Flossie.
“Oh, yes I can,” her mother declared.
“You can’t find him if he is hiding away.”
“I don’t think he will dare hide if he hears me calling him.”
“Maybe he will if he’s got my doll,” pouted Flossie.
“Now, Flossie, you mustn’t talk that way. I don’t believe Freddie meant to be naughty. He was only heedless.”
“Well, I want my doll!”
It was no easy matter for little Flossie to get down into the engine room of the motor boat. The little iron stairway was very steep, and the steps seemed to be very far apart.
“Let me help you, Flossie,” said her mother. “I don’t want you to fall and get yourself dirty.”
“Oh, Mother, it isn’t a bit dirty down here!” the little girl returned. “Why, it’s just as clean as it can be!”
“Still, there may be some oil around.”
“I’ll be very careful. But please let me go down all by myself,” answered the little girl.
She was getting at that age now when she liked to do a great many things for herself. Often when there was a muddy place to cross in the street, instead of taking hold of somebody’s hand Flossie would make a leap across the muddy place by herself.
Knowing how much her little girl was disturbed over the loss of her doll, Mrs. Bobbsey, at this time, allowed her to have her own way. And slowly and carefully the stout little girl lowered herself from one step of the iron ladder to the next until she stood on the floor of the engine room.
“Now, I got down all right, didn’t I?” she remarked triumphantly.
“Yes, my dear, you came down very nicely,” the mother answered.
Down in the engine room a man was oiling the machinery. He looked up as Mrs. Bobbsey and Flossie came down the stairs.
“Have you seen my little boy?” asked Freddie’s mother. “My little girl says he came down here.”
“So he did,” answered the engineer. “I asked him if he was coming to help me run the boat, and he said he would a little later. He had something else to do now, it seems.”
“What?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Well, he said he wanted to go fishing. And as I knew you wouldn’t want him leaning over the rail I showed him where he could fish out of one of the portholes of the storeroom. A porthole is one of the round windows,” the engineer said, so Flossie would know what he was talking about. “I opened one of the ports for him, and said he could drop his line out of that. Then he couldn’t come to any harm.”
“Did he have a line?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Yes, a good, strong one. I guess he must have got it off Captain Crane. He’s a fisherman himself, the captain is, and he has lots of hooks and lines on board.”
“Oh, I hope Freddie didn’t have a hook!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey.
“No’m,” answered the engineer. “I didn’t see any, and I don’t think he did have any. He just had a long string, and I thought all he was going to do was to dangle it out of the porthole in the storeroom. He couldn’t come to any harm there, I knew, and I could keep my eye on him once in a while.”
“Did he have my rubber doll?” asked Flossie.
“I didn’t see any doll,” answered the engineer. “But he’s in there now,” he went on. “You can ask him yourself.”
Looking out of the engine room, Freddie could be seen farther back in the motor boat, in a place where boxes and barrels of food, and things for the boat, were kept. One of the side ports was open, and Freddie’s head was stuck out of this, so he could not see his mother and Flossie and the engineer looking at him.
“Well, I’m glad he’s all right,” said Mrs. Bobbsey with a sigh of relief. “Thank you for looking after him.”
“Oh, I like children,” said the man with a smile. “I have some little ones of my own at home.”
Mrs. Bobbsey and Flossie went into the storeroom. Freddie did not hear them, for his head was still out of the round window. There was no danger of his falling out, for he could not have got his shoulders through, so Mrs. Bobbsey was not frightened, even though the little boy was leaning right over deep water, through which the Swallow was gliding.
“Oh, where is my doll?” asked Flossie, looking about and not seeing it. “I want my rubber doll!”
“I’ll ask Freddie,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, and then, in a louder voice, she called:
“Freddie! Freddie! Where is Flossie’s doll? You mustn’t take it away from her. I shall have to punish you for this!”
For a moment it seemed as if the little boy had not heard what his mother had said. Then, when she called him again, he pulled his head in from the porthole and whispered:
“Please don’t make a noise, Mother! I’m fishing, and a noise always scares the fish away!”
“But, Freddie, fishing or not, you mustn’t take Flossie’s playthings,” his mother went on.
Freddie did not answer for a moment. He had wound around his hand part of a heavy cord, which Mrs. Bobbsey knew was a line used to catch big fish. Freddie was really trying to catch something, it seemed.
“Is there a hook on that line?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, fearing, after all, that her little boy might have found one.
“Oh, no, Mother, there’s no hook,” Freddie answered. “I just tied on—-” And then a queer look came over his face. His hand, with the line wound around it, was jerked toward the open porthole and the little boy cried:
“Oh, I got a fish! I got a fish! I got a big fish!”
Mrs. Bobbsey at first did not know whether Freddie was playing some of his make-believe games, or whether he really had caught a fish. Certainly something seemed to be pulling on the line he held out of the porthole, but then, his mother thought, it might have caught on something, as fishlines often do get caught.
“I’ve caught a fish! I’ve caught a fish!” Freddie cried again. “Oh, please somebody come and help me pull it in!”
Flossie was so excited—almost as much as was her brother—that she forgot all about her lost doll.
“Have you really caught a fish?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“I really have! I guess maybe it’s a shark or a whale, it’s so big, and it pulls so hard!” cried Freddie.
And, really, the line that was wound around his hand was pulled so tight, and stretched so hard, where it went out of the hole and down into the ocean, that Freddie could not lower his fist.
“Oh, Freddie!” cried his mother. “If you have caught a fish it may cut your fingers by jerking on that line.”
“Well, I—I caught something!” Freddie said. “Please somebody get it off my line. And hurry, please!”
By this time Nan and Bert had run down into the storeroom. They saw what was going on.
“Are you sure you haven’t caught another hat?” asked Bert, as he remembered what had once happened to his little brother.
“It doesn’t pull like a hat,” Freddie answered. “It’s a real fish.”
“I believe he has caught something,” said Mr. Chase, the engineer, as he ran in from the motor room. “Yes, it’s either a fish or a turtle,” he added as he caught hold of the line and took some of the pull off Freddie’s hand. “Unwind that cord from your fingers,” he told the little boy. “I’ll take care of your fish—if you really have one.”
“Could it be a turtle?” asked Nan.
“Yes, there are lots of ’em in these waters,” the engineer said. “But I never knew one of ’em to bite on just a piece of string before, without even a hook or a bit of bait on it.”
“Oh, I got something on my line for bait,” Freddie answered.
But no one paid any attention to him just then, for the engineer, gently thrusting the little boy aside, looked from the porthole himself, and what he saw made him cry:
“The little lad has caught something all right. Would you mind running up on deck and telling Captain Crane your brother has caught something,” said Mr. Chase to Bert. “And tell him, if he wants to get it aboard he’d better tell one of the men to stand by with a long-handled net. I think it’s a turtle or a big fish, and it’ll be good to eat whatever it is—unless it’s a shark, and some folks eat them nowadays.”
“Oh, I don’t want to catch a shark!” exclaimed Freddie.
“It’s already caught, whatever it is,” said Mr. Chase, “It seems to be well hooked, too, whatever you used on the end of your line.”
“I tied on a—-” began Freddie, but, once again, no one paid attention to what he said, for the fish, or whatever it was on the end of the line, began to squirm in the water, “squiggle” Freddie called it afterward—and the engineer had to hold tightly to the line.
“Please hurry and tell the captain to reach the net overboard and pull this fish in,” begged Mr. Chase of Bert. “I’d pull it in through the porthole, but I’m afraid it will get off if I try.”
All this while the Swallow was moving slowly along through the blue waters of the deep sea, for when the engineer had run in to see what Freddie had caught he had shut down the motor so that it moved at a quarter speed.
Up on deck ran Bert, to find his father and Captain Crane there talking with Cousin Jasper.
“What is it, Bert?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.
“Oh, will you please get out a net, Captain!” cried Nan’s brother. “Freddie has caught a big fish through the porthole and the engineer—Mr. Chase—is holding it now, and he can’t pull it in, and will you do it with a net?”
“My! that’s a funny thing to have happen!” said Mr. Bobbsey.
“I’ll get the net!” cried Captain Crane. “If your brother has really caught a fish or a turtle we can have it for dinner. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a turtle,” said the captain to Bert’s father. “There are plenty around where we are sailing now, and they’ll sometimes bite on a bare hook, though they like something to eat better. What bait did Freddie use?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Bert answered.
By this time Captain Crane had found a large net, which had a long handle fast to it, and also a rope, so that if the fish were so large that the handle should break in lifting it from the water, the rope would hold.
With the net ready to dip down into the water, Captain Crane ran along the deck until he stood above the porthole, out of which ran the line. The fish, or whatever it was, was still fast to the other end of the strong cord.
“Haul it up as close as you can to the side of the boat!” called the captain to the engineer, who thrust his head partly out of the round hole. “Then I’ll scoop it up in the net. Watch out he doesn’t get off the hook.”
“That’s the trouble,” said the engineer. “I don’t believe Freddie used a hook. But we’ll soon see.”
Up on the deck of the Swallow, as well as down in the storeroom, where Freddie, his mother and the others were watching, there was an anxious moment. They all wanted to see what it was the little boy had caught.
“Here we go, now!” cried Captain Crane, as he lowered the long-handled net into the water near the cord. The captain held to the wooden handle, and Mr. Bobbsey had hold of the rope.
Through the porthole Mr. Chase pulled on the cord until he had brought the flapping, struggling captive close to the side of the motor boat. Then, with a sudden scoop, Captain Crane slipped the net under it.
“Now pull!” he cried, and both he and Mr. Bobbsey did this.
Up out of the blue sea rose something in the net. And as the sun shone on the glistening sides Freddie, peering from the porthole beside the engineer, cried:
“Oh, it’s a fish! It’s a big fish!”
And indeed it was, a flapping fish, of large size, the silver scales of which shone brightly in the sun.
“Pull!” cried the captain to Mr. Bobbsey, and a few seconds later the fish lay flapping on deck.
Up from below came Freddie, greatly excited, followed by his mother, Nan, Flossie and Mr. Chase, Flossie chanting loudly: “Freddie caught a fish! Freddie caught a fish!”
“Didn’t I tell you I caught a fish?” cried the little boy, his blue eyes shining with excitement.
“You certainly did,” his father answered. “But how did you do it, little fat fireman?”
“Well, Captain Crane gave me the fishline,” Freddie answered.
“Yes, I did,” the captain said. “He begged me for one and I let him take it. I didn’t think he could do any harm, as I didn’t let him take any sharp hooks—or any hooks, in fact.”
“If he didn’t have his line baited, or a hook on it, I don’t see how he caught anything,” said the engineer.
“I did have something on my line,” Freddie exclaimed. “I had—I had—-”
But just then Flossie, who had been forgotten in the excitement, burst out with:
“Where’s my doll, Freddie Bobbsey? Where’s my nice rubber doll that you took? I want her! Where is she?”
“I—I guess the fish swallowed her,” Freddie answered.
“The fish!” cried all the others.
“Yes. You see I tied the rubber doll on the end of the line ’stid of a hook,” the little boy added. “I knew I had to have something for to bait the fish, so they’d bite, so I tied Flossie’s doll on. The fish couldn’t hurt it much,” he went on. “’Cause once Snap had your rubber doll in his mouth, Flossie, and she wasn’t hurt a bit.”
“And is my doll in the fish now?” the little girl demanded, not quite sure whether or not she ought to cry.
“I guess it swallowed the doll,” returned Freddie. “Anyhow the doll was on the end of the string, and now the string is in the fish’s mouth. But maybe you can get your doll back, Flossie, when the fish is cooked.”
Captain Crane bent over the fish, which was flopping about on deck.
“It has swallowed the end of the line, and, I suppose, whatever was fast on the cord,” he said. “If it was Flossie’s doll, that is now inside the fish.”
“And can you get it out?” asked Bert.
“Oh, yes, when we cut the fish open to clean it ready to cook, we can get the doll.”
“Is that fish good to eat?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Very good indeed. It’s one of our best kind,” the captain said. “Freddie is a better fisherman than he knew.”
And the little Bobbsey twin had really caught a fish. Just why it was the fish had bit on the line baited with Flossie’s rubber doll, no one knew. But Captain Crane said that sometimes the fish get so hungry they will almost bite on a bare hook, and are caught that way.
This fish of Freddie’s was so large that it had swallowed the doll, which was tied fast on the end of the line, and once the doll was in its stomach the fish could not get loose from the heavy cord.
“But you mustn’t take Flossie’s doll for fish-bait again,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.
“No’m, I won’t!” Freddie promised. “But now maybe I can have a real hook and bait.”
“Well, we’ll see about that,” said Mr. Bobbsey with a smile.
The line was cut, close to the mouth of the big fish, which weighed about fifteen pounds, and then Freddie’s prize was taken by the cook down to the galley, or kitchen. A little later the cook brought back Flossie’s rubber doll, cleanly washed, and with the piece of string still tied around its waist.
“Is she hurt?” asked Flossie, for her doll was very real to the little girl, since she often pretended she was alive.
“No, she’s all right—not even a pinhole in her,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “There are a few marks of the teeth of the fish, where it grabbed your rubber doll, but she was swallowed whole, like Jonah and the whale, so no harm was done.”
“I’m glad,” said the little girl, as she cuddled her plaything, so strangely given back to her. “And don’t you dare take her for fish-bait again, Freddie Bobbsey.”
“No, Flossie, I won’t,” he said. “I’ll use real bait after this.”
“But you mustn’t do any more fishing without telling me or your mother,” cautioned Mr. Bobbsey. “You might have been pulled overboard by this one.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Freddie declared. “Only my head could go through the porthole.”
“Well, don’t do it again,” his father warned him, and the little boy promised that he would not.
The fish was cooked for supper, and very good it was, too. Flossie and Freddie ate some and Flossie pretended to feed her doll a little, though of course the doll didn’t really chew.
“The fish tried to eat you, and now you can eat some of the fish,” Flossie said, with a laugh.
The Bobbsey twins wanted to stay up late that night, and watch the moonlight on the water, but their mother, after letting them sit on deck a little while, said it would be best for them to “turn in,” as the sailors call going to bed. They had been up early, and the first day of their new voyage at sea had been a long one.
So down to their berths they went and were soon ready for bed.
“My, we had a lot of things happen to-day!” remarked Flossie.
“Well, I’m sorry I took the doll, but I’m awful glad I caught that great big fish,” answered Freddy.
“But you’re never going to take her for fish bait again, Freddie Bobbsey!” repeated his twin.
“I didn’t say I was. I guess the next time I want to go fishing I’ll get a regular piece of meat from the cook.”
“Children, children! It’s time to go to sleep now,” broke in their mother. “Remember, you’ll want to be up bright and early to-morrow.”
“If I don’t wake up, you call me, please,” cried Freddie; and then he turned over and in a few minutes was sound asleep, and soon the others followed.
The next day passed. The children had fun on board the motor boat, and the older folks read and talked, among other things, of how glad they would be to rescue Jack from the lonely island. The following day it rained hard, and the four twins had to stay in the cabin most of the time. But they found plenty to amuse them.
The third morning, as they came up on deck, the sun was shining, and one of the men was looking at something through a telescope.
“Does he see another fish, or maybe a whale or a shark?” asked Freddie.
The sailor answered for himself, though he was really speaking to Captain Crane, who was at the steering wheel.
“Land ho!” cried the sailor.
“Where away?” asked the captain.
“Dead ahead!” went on the sailor.
That is the way they talk on board a ship and it means:
“I see some land.”
“Where is it?”
“Straight ahead.”
The Bobbsey twins looked, but all they could see was a faint speck, far out in the deep, blue sea.
“Is that land?” asked Nan.
“Yes, it’s an island,” answered Captain Crane.
“Oh, maybe it’s the island where Jack is!” Bert cried.
“Perhaps,” said Captain Crane. “We’ll soon know, for it is not many miles away, though it looks far off on account of the fog and mist. We’ll soon be there.”
He was just going to ring the bell, giving a signal to the engineer to make the boat go faster when, all at once, Mr. Chase, who had helped Freddie catch the fish, came hurrying up out of the motor room.
“Captain!” he cried. “We’ll have to slow down! One of the motors is broken! We’ll have to stop!”
This was bad news to the Bobbsey twins.
Cousin Jasper, who had been talking to Mr. Bobbsey, walked along the deck with the children’s father until he stood near Captain Crane, who was now looking through the telescope, across the deep, blue sea, at the speck which, it was said, was an island.
“What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Dent. “Why are we stopping, Captain Crane?”
“Because one of our motors is broken, Mr. Dent. But don’t let that worry you. We have two, or, rather, a double motor, and if we can’t go with one we can with the other. It’s like a little boy or girl, when they break one of their roller skates,” he went on, looking at Flossie and Freddie.
“If they can’t skate on two skates they can push themselves around on one skate,” said the captain. “And that’s what we’ll have to do. But, Mr. Chase, you think you can mend the broken engine easily enough, don’t you?” he asked the man who had helped Freddie hold on to the big fish.
“Oh, yes,” answered the engineer. “We can easily fix the broken motor. But it will take a day or so, and we ought to be in some quiet place where the waves won’t rock us so hard if a storm comes up. So why not go to this island that we see over there?” and he pointed to the speck in the ocean. “Maybe there is a little bay there where the Swallow can rest while my men and I fix the engine.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Captain Crane. “Can you run to the island?”
“Oh, yes, if we go slowly.”
“What’s that?” cried Cousin Jasper. “Is there an island around here?”
“The sailor who was looking through his telescope just saw one,” returned Captain Crane. “I was going to tell you about it when Mr. Chase spoke to me about the broken engine. There is the island; you can see it quite plainly with the glass,” and he handed the spy-glass to Cousin Jasper.
“Maybe it’s the island where that boy is,” said Flossie to her father.
“Maybe,” agreed Mr. Bobbsey.
“I hardly think it is,” said Mr. Dent, as he put the telescope to his eye. “The island where we were wrecked is farther away than this, and this one is smaller and has more trees on it than the one where poor Jack and I landed. I do not think this is the place we want, but we can go there to fix the engine, and then travel on farther.”
“Can we really land on the island?” asked Freddie.
“Yes, you may go ashore there,” the captain said. “We shall probably have to stay there two or three days.”
“Oh, what fun we can have, playing on the island!” cried Flossie.
“We’ll pretend we’re Robinson Crusoe,” said her little brother. “Come on, Flossie, let’s go and tell Nan and Bert!”
And while the two younger Bobbsey twins ran to tell their older brother and sister, Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey, Cousin Jasper and Captain Crane took turns looking through the glass at the island, which was about five miles away.
“It is not the island where I was,” said Cousin Jasper again. “But it looks like a good place to stay while the engines of the Swallow are being mended. So we’ll go there, Captain!”
“All right,” Captain Crane answered. “We’ll have to go a little slow, but we’ll be there in plenty of time.”
Once more the motor boat started off, not going as fast as at first, but the Bobbsey twins did not mind this a bit, as they were thinking what fun they would have on the island so far out at sea, and they stood at the rail watching it as it appeared to grow larger the nearer the boat came to it.
“We’re coming up pretty fast, aren’t we?” remarked Freddie.
“Not as fast as we might come,” answered Bert. “However, we’ve got lots of time, just as Captain Crane said.”
“Is it a really and truly Robinson Crusoe place?” questioned Flossie.
“I guess we’ll find out about that a little later,” answered her sister.
“I can see the trees now!” exclaimed Freddie presently.
“So can I,” answered his twin.
At last the anchor was dropped in a little bay, which would be sheltered from storms, and then the small boat was lowered so that those who wished might go ashore.
“Oh, what lovely palm trees!” exclaimed Nan, as she saw the beautiful branches near the edge of the island, waving in the gentle breeze.
“They are wonderful,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “The whole island is covered with them.”
“Do palm leaf fans grow on these trees, Mother?” asked Freddie as they were being rowed ashore by one of the sailors.
“Well, yes, I suppose they could make palm leaf fans from some of the branches of these palm trees,” Mrs. Bobbsey said. “And shall we call this Palm Island? That is, unless it has some other name?” she asked Captain Crane.
“No, I hardly think it has,” he answered. “I was never here before, though I have been on many of the little islands in this part of the sea. So we can call this Palm Island, if you like.”
“It will be a lovely place to stay,” stated Nan. “I just love to sit under a tree, and look at the waves and the white sand.”
“I’m going in swimming!” declared Bert. “It’s awful hot, and a good swim will cool me off.”
“Don’t go in until we take a look and see if there are any sharks or big fish around,” his father warned him. “Remember we are down South, where the water of the ocean is warm, and sharks like warm water. This is not like it was at Uncle William’s at Ocean Cliff. So, remember, children, don’t go in the water unless your mother, or some of the grown people, are with you.”
The children promised they would not, and a little later the rowboat grated on the sandy shore and they all got out on the beach of Palm Island.
“Then this isn’t the place where you were wrecked with Jack?” asked Mr. Bobbsey of Cousin Jasper.
“No; it isn’t the same place at all. It is a beautiful island, though; much nicer than the one where I was.”
“I wonder if any one lives on it,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.
“I think not,” answered Captain Crane. “Most of these islands are too small for people to live on for any length of time, though fishermen might camp out on them for a week or so. However, this will be a good place for us to stay while the engines are being fixed.”
“Can we sleep here at night?” asked Bert, who wanted very much to do as he had read of Robinson Crusoe doing.
“Well, no, I hardly think you could sleep here at night,” said Captain Crane. “We may not be here more than two days, and it wouldn’t be wise to get out the camping things for such a little while. Then, too, a storm might come up, and we would have to move the boat. You can spend the days on Palm Island and sleep on the Swallow.”
“Well, that will be fun!” said Nan.
“Lots of fun,” agreed Bert. “And please, Daddy, can’t we go in swimming?”
It was a hot day, and as Captain Crane said there would be no danger from sharks if the children kept near shore, their bathing garments were brought from the boat, and soon Bert and Nan, and Flossie and Freddie, were splashing about in the warm sun-lit waters on the beach of Palm Island.
Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey were sitting in the shade watching them, while the men on the boat were working at the broken engine, when suddenly Flossie, who had come out of the water to sit on the sand, set up a cry.
“Oh, it’s got hold of me!” she shouted. “Come quick, Daddy! Mother! It’s got hold of my dress and it’s pulling!”
Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey jumped up and ran down the beach toward the little girl.