ACROSS THE HUDSON

Before saying goodnight to her chums, Bet had made a plan for them to come back early on Monday for another picnic.

“When we get to studying, we just drop swimming and everything else.”

“I’ll be most afraid to swim in a big river like the Hudson,” said Kit with a shiver. “I learned to swim in a water hole in Indian Creek, and it wasn’t much more than just deep enough to cover me.”

“You’ll love the Hudson!” declared Joy. “At high tide it’s great!”

“I didn’t know that a river had a tide.”

“Close to the sea they do. The Hudson has, as you’ll soon learn. It has a tide and even a good strong undertow in places. Well, you just have to know the Hudson to appreciate all its fine points,” Bet exclaimed with enthusiasm.

“Be sure and bring your camera, Miss Fixit, and take that picture of the queen’s fan. I’ll be home all morning.” Because Shirley was always tinkering with her camera, the Colonel had playfully given her the name of Miss Fixit.

So the girls had agreed to come early and have a long day at the beach that belonged to the Merriweather estate.

“I don’t hear any invitations for us to come along. Don’t you think boys enjoy picnics as well as girls?” protested Bob Evans.

“Boys spoil all the fun,” said Joy contemptuously, but with mischief in her eyes.

“No, they don’t, Joy!” Bet disagreed. “Sometimes they are very useful. To build picnic fires and keep them going.”

“Oh, yes, you’re always glad to make use of us. But you never invite us to any of your good times. Never!”

“If big brothers wouldn’t tease so much, they might get invited once in a while,” laughed Joy as she looked up at her tall brother, who had always been her protector and hero as long as she could remember.

“Do come,” shouted Bet as they got into the car. “Even if we didn’t think to invite you, we’ll be mighty glad to see you when you get there.” As she turned and linked her arm in her father’s, she little dreamed that her last remark would be remembered by all four girls as a strange prophecy.

The girls saw each other only for a moment at church the next day. Bet left immediately after the service, as the Colonel was expecting guests for dinner. She gave her friends a smile, a wave of the hand and a funny pantomime which they understood. They were to be at the Manor the next morning, early.

And early it was. Bet had been up for hours but Colonel Baxter had not finished his breakfast when the girls came in like shafts of sunlight through shutters.

Shirley was loaded down with two cameras and a tripod, her face glowing with the pleasure she felt in being able to do a favor for Bet’s father.

Shirley was the only one of the group whose parents were not well off financially. She was the oldest of four children and lived in a small house on the main street of the village. She had done all sorts of odd jobs in order to earn her longed-for cameras, and had studied them well.

Sometimes when the girls talked of the future when they would go to college, Shirley’s face became clouded, for her father’s poor health made it impossible for him to be steadily employed. Shirley’s chances of college seemed very slim. The Colonel often called upon Shirley to take pictures of Bet on the grounds of the estate, as an excuse to give the girl a chance to earn a few dollars.

“Do hurry, Dad, and finish your breakfast! We’re anxious to be off. Couldn’t the pictures wait?”

“No, Bet, I want to take them now,” replied Shirley. “You can go along if you want to and I’ll come later.”

“We’ll wait,” answered Bet cheerfully.

The Colonel rose and saluted, “I am at your service!”

Shirley arranged the lighting like an expert and took several poses of the little fan against a background of black velvet, placing it in different degrees of light. The other girls were not particularly interested. Shirley’s hobby was all right, when she took pictures of them, but just now they were impatient to be off.

Then Shirley had to waste more time showing the Colonel about the latest self-photography attachment that she had recently bought.

“I got tired always being left out of the group. And the other girls can’t take pictures to suit me.”

“Is this the same idea that is used in photographing wild animals?” asked Colonel Baxter.

“It’s the same principle, but a little wire or spring is touched by the animal and this releases the shutter and for night pictures sets off a flash powder as well. I’m going to get one of those attachments by winter time, as the camera company has offered a prize for wild animal pictures.”

“Aw, come on, Shirley,” called Joy. “You’re an old slow poke. You finished that picture long ago.”

But Shirley delayed still longer to put her large camera carefully away. The small one she tucked under her arm to take with her to the river.

It was Kit’s first trip to the little beach belonging to Bet’s father. The bath house with its tiny dressing rooms pleased her immensely. “Imagine,” she exclaimed, “building a house to dress and undress in. A clump of mesquite bushes always served my purpose.”

Kit could not pretend to be other than she was. Fearing that these girls, whose homes were so elegant, might look down upon her, she had planned to keep her affairs to herself, but whenever anything unusual came up, she was startled by the contrast and blurted out the queer makeshifts that they had in her crude home in the desert.

She had no need to fear. The girls were as interested in Kit’s description of her home life as they were in the exploits of the cowboys that she loved to talk about.

“I’d just love to eat out under a cotton-wood tree by the stream. That must be a lovely way to live,” exclaimed Bet.

“I don’t think you’d enjoy it for long, after what you’re used to. You’d want to get back to all that lovely glassware and beautiful dishes. You’d miss your Manor.”

“Of course I’d miss the Manor if I was away from it, but I’d love the other, too, I know I would.”

They had just come in sight of the broad Hudson and Kit stopped short to gaze upon that wide flow of water.

“And oh, look at that lovely boat out there! Whose is it?”

“That’s Dad’s motor boat. I’m not allowed to run it, although I know I could just as well as not. Dad seems to think I’m still a baby and a girl baby at that.”

They had reached the beach and Bet was opening the door of the boat house as she spoke and when Kit saw the little green canoe, she was speechless. She looked at it with glowing eyes.

“Isn’t it a dear? It’s mine!” said Bet.

“Can you go out with it whenever you want to?”

“Yes, any time.”

“I’ve never been in a boat in my life!” Kit’s breath came in excited little gasps. “Could we go out in it today?”

“Never had a boat ride!” exclaimed Joy. “How funny! What did you do with yourself?”

“Well, mostly I rode Powder, my cowpony. That was fun. Horseback riding is great sport!”

“You’re the lucky one! I’ve never had a horseback ride in my life.”

“What!” cried Kit. “Never had a horseback ride? How funny!”

And everybody laughed, for what was a common-place happening for one was in the nature of an adventure for the other.

“After lunch we’ll go out in the canoe!” declared Bet. “I’ll be mighty proud to give you your first boat ride.”

Kit looked at the brightly-painted little canoe many times before the lunch was finished and Bet declared herself ready to go.

The egg sandwiches and stuffed olives were eaten without much thought by Kit. Apple turnovers and fudge slipped down as if she were in a dream, for Kit’s mind was racing ahead to the thrill of getting out on the Hudson in a boat.

The girls helped Bet to drag the canoe out of the boat house and to the edge of the water. Joy and Shirley decided not to go. Shirley was trying to get some good pictures of the gulls today and Joy wasn’t in the mood.

“Anyway,” laughed Joy, “in a canoe, two is company, three’s a crowd. Trot along and enjoy yourselves.”

Kit took her place in the boat and Bet shoved it off the sandy beach with her paddle, and in a moment Kit felt it bobbing on the water. Living up to its name, “The Arrow,” it shot gracefully out to the stream, guided by Bet’s capable hands.

Kit held on to both sides of the boat at first. She felt quivery and half frightened.

Bet was using the paddle vigorously. She wore no hat and her blond hair was tousled as usual. It seemed impossible for Bet to keep her unruly locks in order at any time, but now as the breeze ruffled it, she looked like some half-wild elfin creature.

She was tall for her age but slender and her pink and white coloring gave her an appearance of frailty, but when she used her paddle, Kit was fascinated to watch the swelling of the muscles of her arms. She seemed made of springs as she plied the paddle first at one side then the other, with quick, sure, strokes.

“Have you ever been across the Hudson?” asked Kit. “Across the Hudson! Doesn’t that sound romantic? It’s a long way, isn’t it?”

“Only about a mile, I think.”

“And have you ever paddled over there?”

“Heaps of times! We’ve been everywhere on this river. We used to go out and get in the wash of the river steamers. That was lots of fun. Once we almost got upset and Dad made me promise I’d never do that again.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, Bet, you can dispense with all the extra thrills today. For this is giving me heart trouble as it is.”

“Why, what’s the matter? You’re not frightened, are you?”

“Of course I’m frightened. Scared stiff!”

Bet stopped paddling to laugh at her friend. “Kit Patten, you’re the funniest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Then with long sweeping strokes, The Arrow shot out into the channel, sending sparkling drops into the air as it cut its way through the current.

Kit’s brown eyes were shining with excitement and the sense of danger that she imagined was there. “Why, Bet Baxter, this is the most thrilling thing I’ve ever done in my life. It’s more fun than horseback riding. It’s a perfect day. It was good of you to take me.”

The canoe was now headed toward the beach, having reached the quieter waters of the farther shore, and as soon as the boat touched the sand, Bet sprang out and with practised hand drew the bow up on the beach.

“Here you are, Kit. Now you’ve been across the Hudson. It’s not often a person has a chance to have her wishes granted so quickly.”

“Isn’t it wonderful!” gasped Kit. “I’ve never had such a gorgeous time in my life.”

The girls stretched themselves out on the sand for a few minutes.

“Doesn’t Lynnwood look beautiful over there? And just see how very romantic the Manor is from here.”

“I think we’d better start back at once,” exclaimed Bet suddenly. “It’s getting cloudy over that way again, and as we’ve had a thunder storm every day for a week, we may have another this afternoon.”

They lost no time in getting into the boat, for already there was a distant peal of thunder. It was miles and miles away, but Bet didn’t intend to take chances. Her hand worked in a steady rhythm that sent the boat ahead like a flat stone skimming the water.

But as they reached the middle of the river, the wind struck them suddenly and with violence. It seemed to the girls as if the canoe had been lifted and turned over. Kit gave a little cry of terror, but Bet’s look of reproach was sufficient. At a signal from Bet, the girl slid to the bottom of the boat, and remained still.

The storm was upon them. A fierce wind shook the little craft as if a hand had clutched it.

Bet kept the bow of the boat head-on to the heavy rollers that threatened to capsize it. The quiet river had suddenly become a regular sea, choppy and vicious, and Bet strained at the paddle, her face white and tense.

Kit crouched in the bottom of the boat. She was anxious to help but did not know what to do. During a little lull she cried: “Oh, Bet, can’t I help? You must be tired. Let me try to paddle, I think I can.”

“No,” screamed Bet to make herself heard. “Just keep still and don’t even speak to me. I need every breath to work with.”

The boat tossed and plunged. “It acts like a bucking horse when they put on a saddle for the first time,” thought Kit. The bow of the canoe was lifted straight up and then lowered on a wave. For a second it rested only to meet another swell.

Sometimes Bet raised her eyes and looked anxiously down the river. The squall was coming straight toward them; travelling with the wind, it was racing over the water.

The little boat rolled and plunged as the blinding sheet of rain enveloped it, shutting out for a moment the shore on both sides of the river.

Spray broke over the sides and soaked the girls to the skin.

“There’s a can there, Kit. Try to keep the water baled out.” It was all she could do to make Kit hear, even when she screamed with all her might.

Bet’s arms were aching, her eyes strained with the nerve tension and the strength that she was giving out to keep the boat from being engulfed.

While Kit would have gladly relieved her, she had never handled a paddle in her life and now was not the time to experiment.

“It can’t be far now,” muttered Bet between her clenched teeth. It seemed to the girl that she had been paddling for hours.

Bet spoke again: “Scream for help, Kit! Someone may hear, but it’s not likely. Scream anyway!”

And Kit shouted until she was hoarse but the wind stopped the sound. Even Bet, close beside her, could hardly hear and made a sign for her to stop.

“If I can only get across the channel,” thought Bet, as she struggled to keep the canoe balanced.

But all her efforts seemed not to send the canoe ahead even a foot. Buffeted by the angry waves, it was all she could do to keep it afloat.

“Hold on to it, Bet! That’s it! Keep it up!” cried Kit. “I think I see a boat coming!”

For a brief moment darkness settled down upon Bet. Her head swam. Her strength was about gone.

There was a violent jar on the canoe that brought her back to her senses. If they were to be saved, she must keep on.

Another wave dashed over them, and Kit’s arm was kept busy scooping up the water and throwing it back to the river. Never had she worked so desperately in her life.

At intervals she glanced up at Bet, but the girl’s white face was no comfort to her.

Her eyes searched the river again. “It is a boat, Bet! Help is coming!” and as another dash of water struck them she screamed: “Hold it, Bet! Don’t let go!”