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 Gla.s.s-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 gla.s.s-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 sn.o.b 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 pa.s.sing 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 gla.s.s-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 sh.o.r.e.

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 pa.s.senger and she stepped ash.o.r.e.

"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.

CHAPTER XXII