Howbridge first of all considered it wise to make provision for getting the motor-boat into a more sheltered roadstead. The cove was too open to the sea, and Neale, on his short exploring trip, had noted a more sheltered place at the eastern end of the island.

The boys and Mr. Howbridge waded out to the boat again, pushed her keel out of the sand, and proceeded to paddle the craft along the sh.o.r.e, while the girls strolled along the strand, easily keeping pace with the boat. They saw not a living thing on the island save lizards and birds.

There was no sound from the jungle to affright them. The strand itself was a field of wonderful sea treasures, to be reaped as they pleased.

"It is a wonderful place," Ruth declared. "I am really glad we came."

"If we don't have to stay too long," ventured Agnes.

"I expect Mrs. MacCall and Aunt Sarah will be pretty lonely without us,"

remarked Tess.

"And Uncle Rufus and Linda," said Dot, accepting the idea that they might never return to civilization.

They really had so much to do and so much fun doing it that it was little wonder if Tess and Dot considered very lightly the semi-privations the party suffered. What were proper beds, and shelter, and restaurant-cooked food, compared with the jolly makeshifts that were made necessary by their present condition?

The camp was established back from the small but sheltered inlet in which the _Isobel_ was finally anch.o.r.ed. The anchorage was so deep that a fallen palm log made a gangplank from the rocky sh.o.r.e to the deck of the motor-boat. By means of this, everything was brought ash.o.r.e that they thought would be needful.

The boys brought tarpaulins and pieces of sailcloth, and between four palm-stems in the middle of the cocoanut grove some rods back from the water, they proceeded to set up a shelter for the girls to use as a bedroom. Of course, the living and cooking in general would be done in the open, and there were plenty of blankets for the boys and Mr.

Howbridge when they lay down to sleep on the sand.

The grove showed some marks of the storm that had swept this part of the Caribbean so savagely the day before. Although the cocoanuts were in a green state, some had been wrenched from the tops of the trees and flung about. The soft meat of these nuts was already good to eat; and there were bananas and mangoes-the latter refreshing, but not much to the children's taste at first.

Neale poked out great lobsters in the crannies of the rocks. There were crabs to be caught too. Mussels, razor-sh.e.l.l clams and maninoses added to the edible supplies. Besides these, the waters about the island were crowded with fish of various kinds. There was little need of the party going hungry, although Dot did ask rather earnestly for a piece of bread and b.u.t.ter.

Besides laying up such stores of provisions as they might need for the next few meals, the party, even Dot and Tess, walked clear around the island, following the edge of the sea. It was a long walk, but they took it in the cool of the day and the little folks were not too greatly wearied by the walk.

They were all, too, delighted with what they saw. There were in some places great coral rocks heaped up by the surf, and the girls had never imagined that there could be so many varieties of coral. Great, smooth, mother-of-pearl-lipped sh.e.l.ls were likewise gathered by the children.

There were ill-smelling ma.s.ses of half-animal, half-vegetable matter to which the Corner House girls were inclined to give a wide berth. These, too, had evidently been cast up on sh.o.r.e by the recent storm. Luke poked at them, and then became importantly scornful.

"You use these probably every time you take a bath in your tub at home,"

he announced. "And because you see them in their natural state you scoff at them."

"Not me!" cried Agnes vigorously. "You've got the wrong idea if you think I'd let a thing like that into my bathtub. Whew!"

"I don't really understand, Luke," said Ruth. "Is it an animal?"

"Partly. It swims about at first and then adheres to a rock. So then it grows into a vegetable."

"Humph!" scoffed Agnes. "Then an oyster is both animal and vegetable, for that is what it does."

"They are sponges, are they?" asked Mr. Howbridge. "I never chanced to see one in its natural state before."

"Ho!" exclaimed Neale. "Me for the rubber sponges you buy in the drug stores hereafter. They are nasty, Luke."

"Don't blame me," chuckled the collegian. "They don't belong to me. And perhaps you wouldn't care for rubber if you could see it gathered and know how it is prepared. But that, like the sponge, goes through so many processes before becoming commercially useful that we can easily forget its natural state."

They got back in time for supper. Somewhere on the way Neale had slyly discovered some more of the leathery-sh.e.l.led eggs, and he produced them triumphantly in an omelet; for Neale, after his circus experience and other adventures out-of-doors, was by no means a bad cook. They all acclaimed his skill.

"But I do want to see your flock of funny hens!" exclaimed Agnes. "You never used to have secrets from me, Neale O'Neil. It began with that Nalbro Hastings, the girl from the Back Bay. I wonder what she would do if she were here!"

"Be eaten up with sand-fleas-as we are," murmured Ruth, scratching.

But the boys had laid a piece of sailcloth for the floor of the girls'

tent; and when they went to bed they were no longer annoyed by the sandhoppers. Around the fire, after the Corner House girls had retired, Mr. Howbridge and the two young fellows talked very seriously indeed regarding their situation here on Palm Island.

"I have an idea from studying your chart, Neale, that we have been driven far off any steamship course," said the lawyer.

"That's my idea, too, sir," agreed Neale.

"As long as it remains pleasant and we have enough to eat and drink, all is right enough. But do you notice, boys, that the water barrel aboard the launch is getting low?" said Mr. Howbridge.

"Crackey! I didn't think of that," muttered Neale.

"I did. And I've been smelling about for a spring. But I didn't find any," said Luke.

"And many of these coral islands don't have any fresh water save in the rainy season."

"That's so. But-but, Mr. Howbridge, we're not sure that this is entirely a coral island," Neale said anxiously.

"There are coral reefs surrounding it, anyway," the lawyer observed.

"Those rocks where we have moored the launch are not coral," said Luke suddenly.

"You are right, my boy!" exclaimed Mr. Howbridge more confidently.

"There is a chance that the island may be of volcanic formation, and be immensely old. As old as the big islands of the West Indies. That being the case, we may easily find water bubbling up from the subterranean depths."

"Hope so," muttered Neale. "Thirst is an awful thing, as the codfish said when he found himself on dry land."

Still, it was not a matter to joke upon. The three followed the example of the girls and went to sleep, fearing no enemy on this deserted island. Neale O'Neil was astir very early, however. Indeed, it was not yet light and a fog lay upon both sea and sh.o.r.e. This gray pall made the place seem so strange and uncanny that Neale could not go to sleep again. Besides, he heard something!

He sat up and threw aside his blanket. There was a shuffling step on the sands below the palm grove. No, there were countless shuffling steps!

Amazed-not a little frightened for the moment-Neale got lightly to his feet. He was about to touch Luke and try to awaken him, when to his mind came the simple explanation of the sound, and he almost broke into loud laughter.

At second thought he stifled this desire to vent his amus.e.m.e.nt and crept away from the camp to the edge of the grove. The sliding, shuffling sound in the sand above highwater mark continued. He could see absolutely nothing, for the light fog plastered the sh.o.r.e like a mat.

Remembering something that he had promised Agnes Kenway the day before, Neale went back to the tent and scratched with his finger nail on the canvas. He heard a movement in answer almost at once, and spoke Agnes'

name.

"This is Ruth," said the older sister. "What do you want, Neale?"

"Agnes," replied Neale, chuckling.

"What you punching me for, Ruthie?" asked the sleepy voice of the flyaway sister.

"Neale wants you," giggled Ruth. "He's waking up the whole camp to get you."

"Oh! Neale O'Neil!" gasped Agnes. "Do you want me?"