Chapter XVII: Visitors

Bessie Lavine had written home, as she said she would, regarding her adventure with Wyn when they were overturned by the squall, and all about Polly Jarley. But the result of this letter--and the others that went along to Denton with it--was not just what the girls had expected.

Although Mrs. Havel, in charge of the Go-Aheads, reported regularly to her brother-in-law, Percy's father, the story of the overturn made a great stir among the mothers especially, whose consent to the six girls living under canvas for the summer had been gained with such difficulty.

"What do you know about this, girls?" cried Frank, on next mail day. "My mother and father are coming out here. They can stay but one night; but they say they must see with their own eyes just how we are living here."

"And my Uncle Will is coming," announced Grace. "What do you know about _that_? Mother has made him promise to come and see if I am all right."

"_My_ mother says," quoth Mina, slowly, "that she doesn't doubt Mrs. Havel does the very best she can by us; but she and papa are coming up here with Mr. and Mrs. Cameron."

Bessie began to laugh, too. "Pa's coming," she said. "It's a plot, I believe. He says he has hired the _Sissy Radcliffe_, and all of our parents can come if they like. The boat's big enough. He will bring another sleeping tent and those who wish can sleep under canvas while they remain. The boat has lots of berths in it. Say! maybe we'll have a great time."

"I expect," said Mrs. Havel, looking up and smiling, from her own letter, "that your mothers, girls, will not really be content until they see for themselves how you are getting along. So we may as well make ready for visitors. They will arrive on Saturday. Some will remain only over Sunday and return by train from the Forge. But Mr. Lavine, I believe, and some of the gentlemen, will be here on the lake for a week, or more."

"No more oversets, now, girls," said Frankie. "That's what is bringing the mothers up here."

"_My_ father is coming to see if he cannot do something for Polly Jarley," declared Bessie, with emphasis.

But Wynifred Mallory was quite sure that the Lavines--no matter how good their intentions now were toward the boatman's daughter--would find Polly rather difficult. Wyn had been down to the boatkeeper's house several times alone to see Polly; but the backwoods girl would not be shaken from her attitude. She would not come to Green Knoll Camp any more, nor would she send any word to Bess Lavine.

Bess really was sorry for what she had said and the way she had treated Polly. But the latter was obdurate.

"I don't want anything from those Lavines," she replied to Wyn's urging. "Only that Mr. Lavine should treat my father kindly. I'd pull the girl out of the lake again--sure! But I don't want her for a friend, and I don't want to be paid for doing my duty. _You_ don't offer to pay me, Wynnie."

"No, dear. I couldn't pay you for saving my life," Wynifred admitted.

"Neither can they!" retorted Polly, heatedly. "They think they're so much above us, because they have money and we have none. They are like those millionaires at the other end of the lake--Dr. Shelton and the others. I don't want their money!"

But Polly's obstinacy was cutting the boatman's daughter out of a lot of fun. This fact became more pronounced, too, when the visitors from Denton, in the _Sissy Radcliffe_, came to Green Knoll Camp.

The _Sissy_ was a big motor launch, and there was a good-sized party aboard. When the ladies had once seen how the girls and Mrs. Havel lived, they were glad to take advantage of the tent Mr. Lavine brought. The gentlemen slept aboard the launch, which was anchored at night off Green Knoll Camp.

There were indeed gay times, for instead of acting as "wet-blankets" to the young folks' fun, the visitors entered into the spirit of the outing and, with the Busters and Professor Skillings from Gannet Island, made a holiday of the occasion.

Both the girls and boys "showed off" in their canoes in the shallow water under the bank, and in their bathing suits. They showed the more or less anxious parents just how skillful they were in the management of the tricky craft.

When the canoes were overturned, the girls and boys were able to right them, bail them out, and scramble aboard again. They could all swim and dive like ducks--save Bessie and Tubby. But Bessie was improving every day, and Tubby never _could_ really sink, they all declared, unless he swallowed so much of the lake for ballast that he would be able to wade ashore from the middle.

It was now the height of the camping season and the Busters and Go-Aheads, with their friends, were not the only parties along the shores of Lake Honotonka. The Jarleys were doing a good business, almost all their craft being in use most of the time. A battalion of Boy Scouts went into camp about ten miles to the west of Gannet Island and Dave and his mates had some friends among them.

Several small steamboats plied the waters of the lake with excursion parties. The people at Braisely Park often came down to Gannet Island and the neighborhood of Green Knoll in their boats. Altogether there was considerable intimacy among the campers and between them and the residents of Braisely Park.

This pleasant condition of affairs brought about the idea of the regatta, or boating sports. Some of the wealthy men at the west end of the lake arranged the events, put up the prizes for certain classes of boat trials and other aquatic sports, had the necessary printing and advertising done, and

HONOTONKA REGATTA DAY

became emblazoned on the billboards along the neighboring highways and railroad lines.

The events were entirely amateur and were confined to those actually camping on, or living on, the shores of the lake. Arrangements went ahead with a rush, the date being set so close that most of the parents and friends who had come up with Mr. Lavine from Denton were encouraged to stay over.

Some of the Busters were going to enter for the canoeing events, and there was a girls' contest, too, that interested our friends. Bessie Lavine could paddle a canoe as well as anybody, and she was eager to take part in one or two of the races. So she got out early one morning, with Wyn and Grace, and Mr. Lavine for referee, and they did some good work.

They chanced to get well over toward the Jarley boat landing and suddenly Wyn set up a shout:

"Polly! Polly Jolly! I never knew you had a canoe. Come on over here!"

She had caught sight of the boatman's daughter paddling near the shore in an Indian canoe. It was of birchbark and Polly shot it along under the stroke of her paddle as though it had the weight of a feather. And, indeed, it was not so heavy by a good deal as the cedar boats of the Go-Ahead girls.

Polly waved her hand and turned the canoe's prow toward Wyn. Not until she was right among the other canoes did she realize that in one of them sat Bessie Lavine.

"We are very glad to see you, Polly," declared Wyn. "Are you going to enter for the girls' races?"

"Good-morning, Polly," cried Grace, equally cordial. "What a pretty boat you have!"

Polly stammered some words of welcome and then looked from Bessie to Mr. Lavine. Evidently the boatman's daughter suspected who the gentleman was.

Mr. Lavine was a pleasant enough man to meet socially. It is true that both he and his daughter were impulsive and perhaps prided themselves on being "good haters." This does not mean that they were haters of that which was good; but that if they considered anybody their enemy the enmity was not allowed to die out.

"I am glad to see you again, Polly," Bess said, driving her canoe close to that of the boatman's daughter. "Won't you speak to me at all?"

"Oh, Miss Lavine! I would not be so rude as to refuse to speak to you," Polly replied. "But--but it doesn't do any good----"

"Yes, it does, Polly," Bess said, quickly. "This is my father and he wants to thank you for saving my life."

"Indeed I do!" exclaimed Mr. Lavine, heartily. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you did----"

"Oh, yes, sir," said Polly, hurriedly. "I know all about that. You told me how you felt in your letter. And I'm sure I am obliged to you----"

"For what?" demanded the gentleman, smiling. "I have done nothing but acknowledge in empty phrases your bravery and good sense. I think a deal of my Bessie, and I must show you in some more substantial way how much I appreciate what you did for her."

"No, sir; you cannot do that," declared Polly, very much flushed, but with firmness, too.

"Oh, come, now I My dear girl! Don't be so offish----"

"You have thanked me sufficiently, sir," declared Polly. "If I did not know better than to accept anything more substantial myself, my father would not allow it."

"Oh, come now! Your father----"

"My father, sir, is John Jarley. He used to be your friend and partner in business. You have seen fit to spread abroad tales about him that he denies--that are untrue, sir," pursued Polly, her anger making her voice tremble.

"From you, Mr. Lavine, we could accept nothing--no charity. If we are poor, and if I have no advantages--such advantages as your daughter has, for instance--_you_ are as much to blame for it as anybody."

"Oh! come now!"

"It is true. Your libelling of my father ruined his reputation in Denton. He could get no business there. And it worried my mother almost to death. So he had to come away up here into the woods."

"I really was not to blame for that, Polly," said Mr. Lavine.

"You were! Whether you realize it yourself, or not, you are the cause of all our troubles, for they began with your being angry with father over the Steel Rivet Corporation deal. I know. He's told me about it himself."

Mr. Lavine was putting a strong brake upon his temper. He was deeply grateful to Polly; but he was a proud man, too.

"Let us put aside the difference of opinion between John Jarley and myself, my dear girl," he said, quietly. "Perhaps he and I had better discuss that; not _you_ and I. Bessie, I know, wishes to be your friend, and so do I. Had you not rescued her from the lake as you did, Polly, I should be mourning her death. It is a terrible thing to think of!"

Polly was silenced by this. But if she did not look actually sullen, she certainly gave no sign of giving way.

"So, my dear, you must see how strongly we both feel. You would be doing a kind action, Polly, if you allowed Bessie to be your friend."

"That is true, Polly," cried Bessie, putting out her hand again. "Do, _do_ shake hands with me. Why! I owe you my life!"

"Don't talk that way!" returned the boatman's daughter. But she gave Bess her hand. "You make too much of what I did. And I don't want to seem mean--and ungrateful.

"But, truly, you can do nothing for me. No, Mr. Lavine; there is nothing I could accept. You have wronged my father----"

He put up his hand in denial, but she went on to say:

"At least, _I_ believe so. You can do nothing for me. I would be glad if you would right the wrong you did him so long ago; but I do not want you to do _that_ in payment for anything I may have done for Miss Bessie.

"No, sir. Right my father's wrong because it _is_ a wrong and because you realize it to be such--that you were mistaken----"

"I do not see that," Mr. Lavine returned, stiffly.

"Then there is nothing more to be said," declared Polly, and with a quick flirt of her paddle, she drove her birchbark out of the huddle of other canoes and, in half a minute, was out of earshot.