Wyn had listened at that meeting to the opinions of all the other girls–and to their hopeless and disappointed complaints as well–and then she had taken the whole burden on her own shoulders.
“Don’t you say another word at home about it, girls–any of you,” she said. “Leave it to me. Our idea of living for the summer in the open is a good one. We’ll come back to school in the fall with ginger and health enough to keep us going like dynamos during the next school year.”
“But you can’t make my mother see that,” wailed Percy. “She only sees the snakes, and mosquitoes, and tramps, and big winds, and drowning, and I don’t know but she visualizes earthquake shocks and volcanoes!”
“Give me a chance,” said Wyn.
“Voted!” Frankie declared. “When Wyn sets out to do a thing we might as well give her her head. She’s like Davy Crockett; and I hope all our folks will come down without being shot, like the historic ’coon.”
And this present declaration of their captain, which had so aroused the Go-Ahead Club, was the result of Wyn Mallory’s exertions.
She had first obtained the interest and cooperation of Percy’s Aunt Evelyn, who was a widowed lady fond of outdoor life herself. Mrs. Havel was to act as chaperone. With this addition to their forces, the girls stood a much better chance to win over their parents to their plan.
And finally Wyn had gained the permission of the most obdurate parent. The cruise of the Go-Ahead Club in their canoes to Lake Honotonka, and their camping for the summer at some available spot along the lake shore, was decided upon.
“And are the Busters going?” asked Frank. “That’s the next important matter.”
“Oh, we can get along without those boys, I guess,” scoffed Bessie.
“Yes, I know. We don’t need ’em. And they are a great nuisance sometimes,” admitted Frank, laughing. “But just the same, we’ll have lots more fun with them around–especially Dave Shepard–eh, Wynnie?”
“I don’t see that you need me to witness the truth of your statement, Frank,” returned Wyn, flushing very prettily, for the girls sometimes teased her about Dave, who was her next-door neighbor. “Of course we want the boys, even if Bess is a man-hater.”
“I guess they’ll go,” Frank said. “They liked it so much last year. And the professor is interested in the geological specimens to be found up that way.”
“Goodness!” exclaimed Mina. “Is Professor Skillings going with them again? He is so odd.”
“He’s very absent-minded,” said Bessie.
Frank began to laugh again. “Say!” she began, “did you hear about what happened to him last week? Father met him coming down Lane Street–you know, it’s narrow and the sidewalk in places is scarcely wide enough for two people to pass comfortably.
“There was poor Professor Skillings hobbling along with one foot continually in the gutter, his eyes fixed on a book he was reading as he walked. Father said to him:
“‘Good morning, Professor! How are you feeling to-day?’
“‘Why–why–why!’ exclaimed the professor–you know his funny way of speaking. ‘Why–why–why–I was very well when I started out, I thought. But I don’t know what’s come over me. Do you know, I’ve developed a pronounced limp since leaving the house!’”
“Well, the boys like him,” Wyn said, when the girls’ laughter had subsided.
“I thought I saw Dave Shepard and that ‘Tubby’ Blaisdell around here when I hurried down from school to light the fire,” remarked Grace.
At that moment a strange, scraping sound was heard right above the girls’ heads. Bess and Mina jumped up.
“What’s that?” cried Grace.
“It’s something on the roof,” declared Wyn.
Now, Canoe Lodge was built on a high bank over the river. One stepped from the level sward into the living room. The roof on one side was a short, sharp pitch; but over the river it ran out in a long, easy slope to shelter the canoe landing.
Suddenly there was a crash, and the very house shook. There was a wheezy shout of alarm, the sound of another voice in wild laughter, and some heavy body slid down the long side of the roof with the noise of an avalanche.
“The Busters!” shrieked Percy, and ran to a window overlooking the river.
CHAPTER II
THE BUSTERS
The girls could overlook the lower slope of the long roof through the bay window at the end of the living room. They crowded to it after Percy Havel, and beheld a most amazing as well as ridiculous sight.
A very fat youth, in a blue and white striped sweater and with a closely-cropped yellow head, was face down upon a length of plank, which plank was sliding like a bobsled down the incline of green-stained shingles.
“It’s Tubby!” gasped Frank Cameron.
“Oh! oh! oh!” squealed Mina. “Is he doing that for fun?”
Before any further comment could be made, the boy on the plank shot out over the edge of the roof and dived, with a mighty splash, into the deep water of the pool, adjoining which Canoe Lodge was built.
“He’ll be drowned!” cried Grace, wringing her plump hands.
“It’ll serve him right if he is!” exclaimed Bessie. “What business had he on our roof, I want to know?”
“Poor Tubby!” cried Wyn, choked with laughter.
“Isn’t he the most ridiculous creature that ever was?” rejoined Frank. “See there! he’s come up to blow like a frog.”
“It’s a whale that comes up to blow,” Wyn reminded her.
“Well! isn’t Tubby Blaisdell a regular whale of a boy?” returned the black-eyed girl.
“There’s Dave!” cried Mina.
“I knew the two wouldn’t be far apart!” sniffed Bess Lavine.
“He’s got a boat and is going to Tubby’s rescue,” cried Grace.
“But see Tubby flounder around!” Frankie observed. “Why! that boy couldn’t sink if you filled his pockets with flatirons!”
“There! he is going under,” ejaculated the more timorous Mina.
“Dave will get him, all right,” declared Wyn, with confidence.
She and Dave Shepard had been good chums since they were both in rompers. Her girl friends might tease Wyn sometimes about Dave; but the girl had no brothers and Dave made up the loss to her in every way.
“Oh! he’s going to spear him with that boathook!” gasped Mina again.
And really, it looked so. Tubby Blaisdell was splashing about in the pool before the canoe landing like a young grampus. Tubby was always getting into more or less serious predicaments, and he always “lost his head” and usually had to be aided by his friends.
In this case Dave Shepard prepared to literally spear him in the water. Dave–who was a tall, athletic boy, with a frank, pleasant face, if freckled, and close-cut brown curls in profusion–had driven the flat-bottomed skiff he had obtained from a neighboring landing, across the pool, and now, standing erect in the boat, with a single lunge impaled upon the boathook the tail of Tubby’s coat.
His chum was going down, as Dave thrust the boathook; for the unfortunate victim of the accident had swallowed a quantity of water when he dived with the plank from the eaves of the roof of Canoe Lodge. There was no time to lose if Dave wished to rescue Tubby before serious injury resulted to the unfortunate fat youth.
It