Chapter XXI: To China in a Glass-Boat

At the upper end of the wharf a small boat was anchored, gay in red paint with black trimmings. It consisted of a single deck only, on which was a raised cabin that extended the whole length of the boat, having doors at each end and several small windows on the sides.

The girls hastened along the broad plank, over the shallow space of water between the boat and the shore, and entered the wide front opening.

The interior resembled a country store.

A counter, running three quarters of the length of the boat and stacked with all sorts of glassware, divided the room in two parts.

Sandwiched between the counter and the shelves, which were also heavily laden with glass, was a clerk, intent upon the customers who crowded the narrow aisle.

And what queer customers they were! Boys and girls, for the most part poorly dressed, who kept an eye on the different articles displayed, or hovered round the large scales at one end of the counter, guarding strange looking bundles and baskets.

To Laura, who had visited the boat each summer for as long as she could remember, it was a familiar scene, but everything proved new and wonderful to Alene.

For a time they were content to wait and watch before making any investments.

"What are they doing?" inquired Alene, pointing to two boys who had dragged a battered basket and a great bundle to the scales.

"Just watch and you'll see."

The clerk took the basket which was filled with pieces of old iron, small bolts, nails, and such things, rusty and apparently good for nothing, and weighed it on the scales; its owners watched carefully to verify its correct weight, and while they calculated its value the clerk proceeded to weigh the bundle.

"Rags," whispered Laura to the wondering Alene. "They buy them from all the towns along the river and sell them in the city to make paper and things."

"The iron?"

"No, silly--that's made over I guess at the foundries."

Alene became interested in watching the two boys whose property had been valued. With an air of importance they turned their attention to choosing its equivalent in crystal ware.

After examining critically the different articles, the older boy at last decided upon a large plate with "Give us this day our daily bread" in fancy letters around the rim, but his companion hesitated between two pitchers.

"Oh, Laura!" Alene's cry of dismay drew Laura's attention. "He's going to buy that purple monstrosity!"

"I think that blue one with the bulgy sides is out o' sight," the boy was saying, his gaze straying from one to the other; "I wonder which ma would like the best!"

Laura stepped forward with an elder-sisterly air.

"Is it for water?" she inquired.

"Yes; ma broke her chiny one the other day and I want to s'prise her."

"Then I'd buy that white one with the frosted flowers; it will look so cool with the water sparkling through. You think the blue one is prettier I know, but it would not be so suitable for water. Don't you think so?"

"That's so, thank y', miss," said the boy, lifting the straw crown which served him as a hat.

Alene drew a breath of relief. "Oh, Laura, you know just what to do! I'm sure he wanted the purple-blue one awfully and he took the other just to please you!" she whispered as the boys left the boat with their treasures, giving a doubtful look backward at the abandoned pitcher.

Laura shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, boys are funny; they mean well but their tastes run to bright things. Any girl in a gaudy dress is beautiful in their eyes!"

"And there isn't always a Laura near to point out the superiority of the girl in plain white," returned Alene with a sanctimonious air at which they both laughed.

"Now for our own choosing," said Laura briskly, and the clerk came forward to her nod.

They spent a delightful half hour at the counter fingering the pretty things, sometimes having as much trouble to decide between different objects as the boys had with their pitchers.

"I'll take this sweet little blue goblet for Ivy, and that pitcher for Mrs. Major, and the berry dish for Kizzie. I'd like to get Uncle Fred a new tobacco-jar to replace the one I broke, but I don't see any." Alene pointed out the things desired, all of which Laura had helped in selecting; then Laura bought her mother a cake-stand and Mrs. Bonner had commissioned her to buy a dozen tumblers, which purchase took much time and thought.

Presently Alene became aware of a pattering on the roof. Softly it came at first, then more and more insistent.

"Why, Lol, it's raining like--like in the days of Noah!" she cried.

"It's only a summer shower," said Laura carelessly.

Having completed their purchases, they strayed to the far end of the boat and discovered a narrow, paneled door which led to a tiny private cabin.

"It would make a lovely play-house!" exclaimed Laura as they peeped in.

It certainly looked inviting with its gay rug and crimson-cushioned furniture.

"What do you say? Let's slip in and wait for the rain to be over!"

Laura's proposition almost took Alene's breath away.

"But will they allow?"

"Oh, yes, what difference could it make? It's empty, so we won't be in anyone's way!" returned Laura airily, and as the rain still beat upon the boat, and they were both very tired, having been on their feet for several hours, so they entered the inviting little parlor without further hesitation.

It was cosy and snug within but rather stuffy, the small windows being closed; but the girls seated side by side on the big chair beside the table found the situation very enjoyable.

"I feel like a traveler, as if we were taking a sail to some outlandish place," said Laura, getting up to adjust her hat before a small mirror set in the wall, beneath which was a stationary wash-stand with holes for bowl and pitcher.

"Let's pretend we're on one of those funny Chinese boats like Uncle Fred told me about; they have large, painted eyes without which no Chinaman would set sail. They say; 'No got eye, no can see--no can see, no can walkee!'"

Alene placed her bundles on the center table and leaned back cosily in the cushioned chair. She was in the midst of a reverie where a queer-looking Chinese mandarin was trying to persuade her to buy a blue glass pitcher, when Laura's voice brought her back to reality.

"Alene, Alene, it's moving--the boat!"

"But it's tied to that big iron ring--it can't move from the wharf!"

There was a creaking and straining of the woodwork around them which they had not noticed before. Laura ran to a window, followed by Alene. The hills appeared to be gliding by! Sure enough, the boat was moving; it had left the shore while they were talking.

For a moment they had a strange sensation.

"It's like being abducted," said Alene.

"Oh, dear, I wonder how far they will go!"

They ran through the paneled door to the front of the boat. The clerk was busy arranging his stock.

"Why, I thought everybody was gone!" he cried in surprise.

"We went into the cabin to rest awhile; we never dreamed you were going away. Where will the boat go?"

The young man laughed.

"Oh, don't get scared! We are only bound across the river a few miles above, to catch the train! Wait, maybe I can get Jones to return and land you first."

He came back in a few minutes.

"He says he can't do it; the captain is coming on the train and if we fail to meet him 'on the dot' it's as much as his job is worth. But it won't take very long and then we'll put back and land you at home."

The girls were forced to be content. They returned to the cabin and discussed the situation.

"I wish Ivy could have come along, she would enjoy this," cried Laura.

When the boat at length drew near to shore and a plank was thrown out, they went on deck and gazed around.

In front and on each side as far as they could see, a steep, scrubby bank reached up to the railway tracks which swept along the foot of the hills. A small wooden tower stood near the tracks a short distance away. The rain had ceased as suddenly as it had come and the sunlight lay on river and land.

"The train must be late," remarked the clerk. A muffled rumble was heard--"Hark, there it is now!"

But it turned out to be a freight, which drew its long length past, like a many-jointed snake.

Time passed slowly to the impatient girls. The young man ran up to the tower to make inquiries.

"The operator says our train may be hour late," he reported.

He felt very sorry for their dilemma, but he knew it would be useless to ask the man in charge to make a special trip to let them off.

Laura and Alene glanced at each other.

"If he says one hour, it may be more and then it will take quite a time to get back," murmured the former.

"Couldn't we walk to some bridge and cross over?"

"I don't know the way, and I never heard of any bridge nearer than Westville, three miles above. Let's take a walk, it'll help pass the time," proposed Laura.

They crossed the plank and wandered arm in arm along the shore.

"I suppose they'll soon have the bellman out ringing for us! To think the dire fate I've often predicted for Nettie when she tarries on the way from school should happen to myself instead!"

"Hello, there!"

Across the water came this welcome hail. A skiff manned by a boy came in sight rounding the bend of the river.

The girls paused and waved their handkerchiefs.

"Is he calling to us? I wonder who it can be!"

"Why, it's Mark Griffin!" cried Alene, with a gulp of delight.

They stood watching the movements of the skiff, fearing it would turn in some other direction and leave them in their plight.

"Maybe he's going on down the river," wailed Laura.

Alene waved her handkerchief more energetically.

"He wouldn't do that!"

"But he doesn't know we're abducted and cast away on this unfriendly coast," rejoined Laura, whose courage increased with the nearer approach of the boat.

It was evident the rower had no intention of turning aside; he aimed in their direction with even and rapid strokes of the oars which soon covered the expanse of water between.

"I noticed you girls running out on deck when the boat drew off and I thought something was wrong and hurried over to see," he explained half shyly, as he drew the boat to shore.

"Oh, have you come to take us home?" cried Alene. "How lovely of you!"

"I'll run back to the cabin for our packages," and Laura, not waiting for his reply, hurried away.

"If you don't object to going with me!"

"Object! Why, we are delighted at the chance! We didn't know what to do!"

Alene told the cause of their predicament, which the boy had already guessed.

"It seems funny you thought we would object to being rescued by you; you didn't wait to find out if we objected or not, that day at the picnic, and the day you faced the mad bull!"

He laughed.

"Excuse me, you see the old fellow was so quick he didn't give me a chance! But this is different!"

Alene was silent. She was afraid he might think her a great baby were she to say how very, _very_ much relieved she was by his presence.

"Well, I guess Hugh Bonner would object," returned the lad.

Alene stepped gingerly into the boat, trying to hide her nervousness when it rocked beneath her and Mark came to her assistance.

"Sit here in the bow and I'll bail out this water," he said.

Alene found it a very spacious and pleasant seat; the rolling of the boat which had alarmed her when standing gave her only a delightful sensation. She put her hand over the side of the skiff and let the water glide through her fingers while she watched with interest the movements of the boy.

"You didn't answer my question," he remarked at last.

"What question?"

"About Hugh objecting."

"Why should he object? Here's Laura with our bundles!" She moved aside to let her friend step into the boat.

The packages were put in a safe place, Mark grasped the oars, Laura, who felt perfectly at home on the water, took a third oar and they started on their homeward way.

"How glad I am to leave the bleak coast of China!" cried Laura.

"You mean Glass-gow, don't you?" spoke up the boy, pointing over his shoulder to where the friendly clerk stood calling, 'Bon voyage!' from the deck of the glass-boat.

The girls laughed.

"I guess we will have to forgive him?"

Alene glanced across the water.

"I suppose we had better, at any rate until we reach dry land," she replied.

"Won't Ivy be sorry she missed this good chance to say 'thank you, sir,' for rescuing us again?" remarked Laura.

"Do you mean the little girl with the big, snapping eyes and--"

"Yes; she was offended with Hugh because he failed to drag you back with him to be thanked prettily by us girls!"

"I didn't want any thanks, but I suspect Hugh wasn't sorry I wouldn't go with him. I'm afraid he doesn't approve of me?"

Laura became suddenly occupied with her rowing and Alene felt called upon to answer.

"Why--" she hesitated.

"You needn't be afraid to say; I know they think I'm a bad case!"

"Oh--no, Hugh said you were all right by _yourself_!"

"Then he doesn't like my chums?"

"He said if you would give up those Stony Road boys--"

"I'm no snob to go back on a boy because he's poor!"

"Why, it's not that! Hugh and his chums are poor but--"

"They say they torture animals!" broke in Laura.

"I told them I was sure you wouldn't allow that," Alene protested.

Her warm defense seemed to mollify the boy; his air of mockery and resentment fell away and he gave her a grateful glance. Then his attention became absorbed in keeping the skiff a safe distance from some passing barges.

For a time there was silence. The boy cleared the tow and continued rowing, giving all his attention to the boat.

The girls glanced at each other, fearing they had offended him.

With a sudden impulse he ceased his energetic rowing and let the skiff drift. His face flushed as he said:

"For myself I make no defense, but you may tell Mr. Hugh that so far as my chums are concerned he's bearing false witness. They may be poor and rough and unruly, but they're not cruel! They belong to the Torchlights!"

"The Torchlights?" cried the girls in duet.

But the boy had resumed his oars, cutting the water vigorously as though glad of a vent for his pent-up indignation. Alene wondered what he meant by the Torchlights, but did not like to ask; Laura more venturesome inquired,

"The Torchlights? What are they?"

"A sort of club," he responded, shutting his mouth with an air of finality that vexed them.

They glanced at each other. Laura's half-curled lip said plainly, "As if we really cared!" and Alene's returned scornfully, "The idea!"

They pretended not to notice his taciturnity and talked lightly to each other of their purchases and other personal matters.

The lad, left to his own reflections, continued rowing manfully. Presently he announced,

"I'll land you at the upper end of the wharf, that will be nearer home."

"Oh, thank you, that will save us quite a walk!" returned Laura.

"And I'll get home before Uncle Fred," cried Alene.

"Wouldn't they all have been scared if we had had to wait for the glass-boat to take us home?"

The boy smiled. He thought there were others who would have been scared in that event.

"Is Mr. Fred Dawson your uncle?"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"I used to be captain of the Fred Dawson Baseball Club," he replied with a tone of pride.

"How nice!" and Alene determined to ask her uncle all about it that very night. "Ah, here's the wharf! It seems to be coming right up to us!"

A few minutes later their light, little craft swept in to shore.

Mark gallantly gathered up the bundles and handed them out to Laura, who had skipped lightly across the bow to the bleached stones of the wharf, then he gave his hand to his more timid passenger and she stepped ashore.

"And the Happy-Go-Luckys will be on time as usual," cried Laura, as they said good-by to Mark, who intended taking the skiff farther up the river.

"The Happy-Go-Luckys? Who are they?" he exclaimed.

"A sort of a club," returned Laura demurely, glancing mirthfully at Alene ere they turned away to climb the hilly homeward path.