Tabitha\'s Vacation

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"Are you sorry?" asked Gloriana, glancing up from her sewing in
surprise at the tone of Tabitha's voice.

"No, oh, no!" she answered hastily, for fear her companion would think
she was complaining. "I don't regret staying here at all, for that was
the only way Mr. McKittrick could get well; but still--I should have
enjoyed getting a peek at the ocean again, and having a good time all
around, like we'd surely have had with Myra."

"Yes, that would have been lovely," sighed Gloriana, who could not help
feeling sorry that their vacation had not turned out as they had
planned, although she admired Tabitha more than ever because of the
unselfishness which had prompted her to shoulder such a responsibility
in the first place.

"You see, I never have spent the summer at the seashore," Tabitha
continued; "nor anywhere else, for that matter, except here in Silver
Bow, since we came here to live; and I had planned so much on Myra's
invitation. She is such a whirlwind for fun."

"It's too bad Miss Davis didn't let us know any sooner that she didn't
intend to come back to the desert till fall. Perhaps we could have
found someone else--"

"I'm afraid not. It's awfully hard to get anyone dependable away out
here. _Hired help_ is simply out of the question. They think Silver
Bow is beyond the bounds of civilization, I reckon."

"I don't blame them," began Gloriana impetuously; then blushed
furiously, and stammered, "Oh, what did I say? What will you think of
me? I didn't mean--"

"Yes, you did mean it," laughed her companion. "And I don't blame
_you_. I used to feel the same way myself."

"And did you _really_ get over it?" Gloriana eagerly asked. "Do you
truly like this--this desolate place now?"

"I _love Silver Bow_," she answered slowly, yet with emphasis. "I
sometimes wonder what kind of a girl I would have been if we had stayed
on at Dover or Ferndale, where there was no Carrie. Then there would
have been no Ivy Hall, either, I suppose."

"And no me," half whispered the red-haired girl. "Then I should be
thankful for the desert, too; because if it hadn't been for you, I
never should have been adopted by the best people in the whole wide
world, nor found an Uncle Jerry who really belongs to me. And anyway,
there will be other summers, and the ocean will keep."

"No, it won't, either!" thrilled a bubbling voice behind them, and a
red-faced, perspiring, disheveled figure swept around the corner of the
house and plumped itself down in the hammock beside Tabitha whom she
proceeded to hug rapturously.

"Myra!" gasped the black-haired girl, trying to return the embrace, but
finding herself held fast by a pair of strong, sinewy arms.

"Myra!" echoed Gloriana, dropping her sewing and staring with
fascinated eyes at the newcomer, who promptly dragged the lame girl
from her chair into the already overloaded hammock and hugged her
vigorously. "Where did you come from and _how_ did you get here?"

"On the train," Myra paused long enough to pant, "and as to finding
you,--haven't you described and sketched the Eagles' Nest often enough
in your letters for me to know it when I saw it? I never even had to
ask directions how to find the trail. Now just rustle your things
together and we'll catch that train back to Los Angeles this afternoon.
It leaves at three o'clock, doesn't it? I simply had to come after
you, but it's too beastly hot to stay here a minute longer than
necessary."

"But Myra, the children!" cried the two maids, looking oh! so eager at
the mere thought of the seashore, but determined to turn their backs on
temptation at once.

"Hark ye!" answered Myra in tragic tones. "What sound doth smite your
ears? Or be you _deef_?" Her abrupt change of tone and manner was too
comical to be resisted, but her upraised hand checked the mirth of the
other two, and they dutifully cocked their heads on one side and
listened intently.

"The youngsters at play," both replied in the same breath.

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess you're _deef_."

At that moment sturdy Rosslyn flew around the corner of the cottage,
and throwing himself into Tabitha's lap shrieked out, "Kitty, Kitty,
mamma's come, but papa must stay down there till it gets cooler."

"What!" whispered Tabitha, her face paling. "It can't be! Is she
truly?"

Myra nodded solemnly.

"What wonderful things are happening--"

There was an ominous crack, the hammock rope snapped in two, and the
quartette found themselves a tangled, huddled heap of arms and legs
upon the piazza floor.

"Indeed, and I see nothing wonderful about that," spluttered Myra, who
had just opened her lips to speak, when their downfall came, and in
consequence she had shut her sharp teeth together on her tongue.

Gloriana scrambled to her feet, then laughed. She could not help it,
for long-limbed Myra did look so funny, sprawled on the floor like a
huge spider; and amazement was written so large upon Tabitha's face
that sterner hearts than hers would have made merry at the picture
which they presented. Rosslyn's wail of grief checked her mirth,
however, and she came hastily to his rescue, but his mother had heard
the outcry, and now appeared on the scene with the remainder of her
brood clinging to her skirts, and Billiard and Toady following close at
their heels.

"Well, for the land sakes!" she ejaculated, holding up her hands in
surprise and amusement. "What a sight! Are any of you hurt? That's
good! Now, girls, perhaps it will seem rude and ungrateful to rush you
off this way, but I had orders to see that you caught the train back to
Los Angeles this afternoon. So I reckon you will have to move lively,
with your packing and all."

"Who gave you such orders?" demanded Tabitha in bewilderment, rubbing
her eyes to make sure she was not dreaming.

"Your father. I met him in the city just as I was about to board the
train for Silver Bow."

"But--but--"

"No 'buts' about it," put in Myra, still sucking her injured tongue.
"I accidentally ran up against Mrs. McKittrick in Los Angeles, knew her
at once because Mercy looks so much like her, discovered that she was
planning to come back here before school opened; so I just attached
myself to her and came along--"

"Aha!" crowed Gloriana jubilantly. "Then all that tale about finding
the Eagles' Nest without help was a--fib!"

Myra's face crimsoned and her tell-tale eyes dropped, then lifted
again, twinkling like twin stars. "Huh!" she giggled, "our detective
again! Say, are you going to catch that train at three o'clock? If
so, just take wings to your feet and fly for home. Mrs. McKittrick can
hear all about everything when you get back. The children are alive
and well, and that's the main point. I told her everything you had
written me and--"

"Myra Haskell!"

"Well, she was on her way home and 'twas time she knew." She glanced
across at Mrs. McKittrick, who smiled back through her tears. "And she
says you are bricks. Also I told the station agent to send up his rig
for your trunks, and if you don't make haste pretty lively, he'll be
there before we are. I suppose your trunks are at your own house?
That's where I told him to call. Now sling out the duds you've got
here, and I'll pack them while you are getting slicked up. No, Mrs.
McKittrick, I don't want another bite to eat, and it's evident from the
looks of the house that either these folks don't get dinner, or else
they have already eaten it."

"We've had it," volunteered Irene, "but it wasn't very good."

"Irene McKittrick!" gasped her mother.

"She is right," laughed Tabitha. "To-day was scrap dinner. We have it
once a week to get rid of all the odds and ends. However, it isn't
very popular. No, thanks, we won't need a lunch put up for us. If we
get hungry before we reach Los Angeles, we'll patronize the diner.
Sorry we can't stop to tell you all the news, but if Dad said we must
go back on this train, I suppose we must. Where are you staying, Myra?
Avalon? Catalina Island?"

"The very same."

Tabitha clasped her hands together and drew a deep breath. "How
perfectly splendid!"

"I guess I'm dreaming," murmured Gloriana, half aloud, pinching herself
vigorously to make sure she was really awake. "Do you get there by
boat?"

"Of course, goosie! Did you think we took an airship? Hurry up,
slowpokes!"

Laughing and chattering gleefully, the trio gathered up their
possessions, made a hurried visit to the Catt cottage, packed their
trunks, and were at the station long before the train rumbled its way
back to the great city by the sea.

"We are going to have the grandest kind of a time," Myra told them.
"All sorts of high jinks. We've got a dandy site for our camp,--a
dozen tents--"

"A dozen!" cried Tabitha in a panic. "Why, who are with you? I
thought it was just your family."

"You knew Gwynne was there?"

"Yes, but she wouldn't occupy a dozen tents. I'm scared!"

"You needn't be," mocked Myra soothingly. "I'll bet you will vote it
the jolliest bunch you ever got mixed up with."

"Do I know any of them?"

"Do you consider yourself acquainted with Gwynne and me?"

"Of course. I meant any of the others."

"Well," Myra spoke dubiously, "if you don't, I think you will get
acquainted easily." And with that remark she adroitly turned the
conversation and managed to avoid that subject during the rest of their
journey.

When the train drew into the dingy little depot the next morning, and
the trio gathered up their wraps preparatory to alighting, Tabitha was
suddenly heard to ejaculate, "Why, there is Dad! And he's talking
with--Miss Pomeroy, as sure as I'm alive! Myra Haskell, is Miss
Pomeroy occupying one of those twelve tents?"

Myra glanced hastily through the iron gates, saw that Tabitha was
right, and demurely nodded her head.

"Then I can imagine who the others are."

"Bet you can't! At least, not all."

"Bet I can!"

"Who, then, smarty?"

"Grace Tilton, Bessie Jorris, Jessie Wayne, Julia, Chrystie--_is_
Chrystie there?"

"Wait and find out," teased Myra.

"Possibly Madeline and Vera,--in fact, all our bunch."

Myra merely laughed, and as they were now spied by Mr. Catt and his
companion, there was no further opportunity for discussion; for, after
a hasty greeting all around, the man seized all the grips he could
manage, and made for the street, saying briskly, "We must hurry. The
boat goes at ten, and it is quite a ride to San Pedro."

"I hope," panted Tabitha, trotting along at the rear of the procession,
tugging a heavy suit-case, "that you don't have your fun in such a
hurry."

"What do you mean?" Myra demanded.

"Well, it's been nothing but hustle since we started out yesterday
afternoon, and I was just wondering if that's the atmosphere of your
camp, too."

"Perhaps you will think so," laughed Myra; "for there certainly are few
idle minutes with us."

"How long has the bunch been at Avalon? Surely not all summer, or you
never could have kept it secret for such a while."

"No," Myra acknowledged, "only--but there, not another question till we
reach Catalina. Then you can ask all you want. I've said too much
already. First thing I know, you will guess the rest of our surprise."
And the girl resolutely closed her lips.

"_Rest_ of the surprise," mused Tabitha to herself, when further
questions failed to bring forth any more information, and Myra was
devoting her attention to quiet Gloriana. "I wonder what it can be.
Seems as if there had been about all the surprises one human being
could expect in twenty-four hours. Who would ever imagine that Dad
would go on a jaunt like this? Isn't it great to be alive in this day
and age?"

She fell to dreaming over the many changes that had come to pass in her
life during one short year, and was only roused from her revery by
Myra's gripping her shoulder and shouting in her ear, "The boat is
whistling its warning now. Not a minute to spare. Run, Kit, run!"
And again the little company tore frantically down the street toward
the dock where the _Cabrillo_ was tugging at her anchor, waiting for
the signal to steam away to the Enchanted Isle on her daily voyage.

It was the first time either Tabitha or Gloriana had been on the ocean;
and with rapturous hearts they drank in every detail of their brief
trip, counted the flying fish that darted out of the water on either
side of them, watched the foam dashing high against the bow of the
vessel, wondered at the long ribbon of silent water which the ship left
in its wake, and were sorry when suddenly Myra called, "There's the
island. We are almost there. Now for the fun! There's a bride and
groom on board."

"How do you know?"

"Didn't you hear the whistle blow?"

"Sure, but I supposed it was to tell the islanders that we were coming.
Doesn't it always whistle?"

"Yes, but not like it did just now. That's the way they have of
letting the folks at Avalon know when there is a recently married
couple on board. Then the men are ready and waiting at the dock with a
wheelbarrow."

"A wheelbarrow! What on earth do they want of a wheelbarrow?" demanded
both girls at once.

"Just for fun. They cart the groom all around the island in it and
make a fearful racket. Regular chivari."

"How mean!" cried Gloriana compassionately.

"Oh, it's fun," Myra declared. "They like it. I believe an Avalon
citizen who didn't get treated that way would feel insulted, really.
Here we are at the landing, and there is the wheelbarrow brigade. It's
Murphy, the ice-man, who got married this time. See, he's as proud as
a peacock at the prospect."

"Yes, but look at the poor little bride," said Gloriana indignantly.
"She is scared stiff."

"Bet she's game," replied Myra, after a quick scrutiny of the little,
shrinking woman, clinging to the arm of the big, burly Irishman, as
they stepped briskly down the gangplank.

"Do they put her in the wheelbarrow, too?" cried Tabitha in amazement.

"Oh, dear, no----"

"They will this one," said the bride with startling suddenness, having
chanced to overhear both question and answer. "If they cart my Pat
around town in that kind of a rig, they cart me, too." And to the
delight and amusement of the crowd gathered to greet the _Cabrillo's_
passengers, the little lady tucked herself in the barrow beside her
husband and was trundled away by the surprised citizens, who had never
wheeled just such a cargo before.

"'Here comes the bride'," a voice began to sing; the crowd took it up,
and amid a shower of bright-colored confetti, the plucky bride
disappeared down the street still seated beside her smiling Pat.

So intent was Tabitha in watching the queer procession that she had not
noticed the quiet approach of a bevy of happy-faced girls; but now, as
she turned toward Myra with the remark, "She's clear grit. I'd choose
a wife like that if I were a man," she found the laughing eyes of Grace
Tilton staring at her, and before she could find her tongue to voice
her surprise, Gwynne's regal head bobbed through the crowd toward her.
Jessie and Julia, Vera and Kate, all her particular friends at Ivy
Hall, seemed to spring up around her, and although half expecting to
find them there, she stood transfixed with amazement, silently
regarding them one by one, while they in silence stared back at her.
Then the circle parted, and among the familiar faces of her schoolmates
appeared another, which dimpled and smiled and nodded engagingly, and
Tabitha awoke with a start.

"Carrie Carson!" she cried, and ran straight into the outstretched arms
of the golden-haired girl.

"Kitty, my puss!" whispered Carrie, cuddling the black head dropped on
her shoulder; and the other girls thoughtfully turned away to watch the
sea-gulls careening about the mastheads of the big _Cabrillo_.

But after a moment, that sweet, familiar voice spoke again, and turning
back, the Ivy Hall girls saw Carrie stretching out her hands to timid
Gloriana, as she said, "So this is my other sister, my Gloriana! It
seems as if I had always known you. We are going to have great times
at Ivy Hall this year. Come on, girls, the glass bottom boat is to
take us to the Marine Gardens right after dinner, and we'll have to
hurry, or be late."

Myra turned to Tabitha with a comical grimace, and said, "What did I
tell you? Hurry's the word."

Then a babel of voices broke loose, all laughing and talking at once,
and in triumph Tabitha and Gloriana were escorted to Ivy Hall Camp.

CHAPTER XV

MYRA'S CLIMAX

"Well, vacation is over, and we had just begun having a good time,"
sighed Tabitha mournfully, drawing back the curtains and peering out of
the window that September morning into the gray fog of early dawn. "It
doesn't seem possible that we are back in Los Angeles again. I 'most
wish we had stayed at Catalina for this last day."

The Catalina campers, after a delightful two weeks' outing on the
Island, had returned to mainland the day before; but as Ivy Hall had
not yet opened its doors to its pupils, and most of the girls lived in
neighboring towns, Myra Haskell had invited them to spend the night
with her at her aunt's house. The aunt, Mrs. Cummings, was herself
away on a brief vacation, but had given her harum-scarum niece
permission to take possession of her pretty bungalow for the two nights
the party would be in Los Angeles before school commenced. So, as the
gray day dawned, it found a dozen mummy-like figures stretched about
the floor of the great living-room, wrapped in blankets and quilts, and
snoring blissfully.

This was the audience which Tabitha addressed, but she did not realize
that she had spoken her thoughts aloud, and was startled when Myra,
without opening her eyes, grunted, "Huh! You'll sing another tune
before night. This is to be _the_ gala day of your life. You will
never forget it. When Dad starts out to do a thing, he never stops
half way. The only trouble is to get him started."

"I didn't mean to grumble, truly," cried Tabitha, dismayed at having
had her ungracious complaint overheard by her young hostess. "It is
just grand of your family to invite all of us out to your ranch for the
day, but I believe it's going to rain. It certainly looks like it.
You could cut the fog with a knife."

"Whist! my young friend," murmured Gwynne, wakened from her slumbers by
the sound of voices in the room. "Don't be so pessimistic. Don't you
know it never rains in California? At least not in the summer time."
For from the opposite corner of the room someone had sleepily murmured,
"What about the ostriches?" and the whole company laughed
reminiscently, recalling that Thanksgiving night when the storm had
frightened the ostriches at the Park until they broke loose and created
a panic among the returning theatre-goers.

"Who said rain?" demanded Grace, lifting a tousled head from the pillow
to survey the hilarious group scattered about the floor of the spacious
room.

"Go back to sleep,--you dreamed it!" teased Bessie, who had begun to
slip on her clothes. "'Twas snow we were talking about. Feels like
it, anyway."

"It _is_ pretty chilly," admitted Tabitha, shivering under the thin
folds of her borrowed dressing-gown, as she turned away from the window
and prepared to follow Bessie's example. "Wake up, thou sluggards,
'tis time you were dressed. Remember we have a long and arduous day
ahead of us."

"Kitty must be tired," said Julia in mock sympathy, crawling out of her
warm nest and jerking the blanket off her nearest neighbor with
ruthless hand. "Is that it, Kitty? First you want it to rain, and
then when you can't make it do that, you begin to moan about the length
of the day before us."

"All wrong," Vera spoke up suddenly. "She is merely thinking of that
dear, cross-eyed boatman at Avalon. You know he promised to give us a
free ride to the Marine Gardens this morning, and here we all came away
and dragged Tabitha with us. Shame on us! What could we be thinking
about!"

Tabitha wisely joined in the laugh which followed this sally, and sent
a pillow flying after her tormentor, who had made a wild dash for the
hall. "No, sir, I'm not bemoaning my fate," she vigorously denied,
with her mouth full of pins. "I know we shall have a splendid time at
the ranch. Only it seems as if vacation had only just begun, instead
of being nearly ended; and the day looks so cloudy and gray that it
doesn't seem like a fitting climax for our lovely two weeks at
Catalina."

"It is too bad that you got cheated out of all the fun this summer,"
Myra sympathized heartily. "But just you wait until the day is done
before you say it is not a fitting climax-- Gracious Caesar! Here's
one of the autos already! Surely they can't be coming so soon! What
time is it, anyway?"

"Half-past six," Gloriana answered, glancing at an open watch that lay
on the library table.

"Half-past nothing!" cried Vera, tumbling hastily into the room with
her eyes as big as saucers. "It is almost eight o'clock!"

"You are joking!" cried the rest of the group in wild alarm.

"Am not! True as you're alive, the kitchen clock says a quarter of
eight o'clock."

"Oho!" murmured Myra guilty. "I--I--really, I forgot----"

"Forgot what?" they demanded, as she doubled up and shrieked with
laughter.

"I--I must have set all the watches in the crowd behind time," she
managed to explain at length.

"When?"

"Last night."

"What for?"

"Just a joke."

"A joke? I can't see any joke about that!" spluttered Jessie
indignantly. "Did you think we wanted to go for a forty-mile auto ride
on empty stomachs? I'm as hungry as a bear this minute."

"I am awfully sorry," cried Myra penitently, sobering at the
realization of just what would be the outcome of her joke. "I meant to
set them two hours ahead, so you would all get up at daybreak and be
ready long before the autos came."

"Just like you!" they exclaimed, half amused, half provoked. "What are
you going to do about it now?"

"What can we do? The autos are here already with the rest of the
people. There are the Carsons and here comes Miss Pomeroy."

"And there is Tabitha's father in his new machine."

"Yes, and mine," said Myra. "My! won't he be mad to think we aren't
even dressed? If there is one thing above another that he abominates,
it is having to wait for a woman to get ready to go somewhere. Well, I
suppose I'll have to break the news to him. Then after you have all
gone home again, won't I get the dickens?"

"Hold on!" cried Tabitha, as Myra started for the door. "There is no
need of that, is there? I've got a brilliant inspiration. Didn't you
say when you investigated the larder last night that your aunt must
have baked just a-purpose for our visit?"

"Yes, words to that effect. There is a whole crock full of doughnuts
and another of cookies. She must have had baking day just before she
decided to take her little trip. But why?"

"We'll just fill our pockets----"

"Haven't any!"

"Well, our hands, then, and eat our breakfast on the sly."

"On the _fly_ you mean," said Gwynne, sarcastically.

"To be exact, yes. Or perhaps it would be better to pretend that we
just found the supplies as we were about to leave the house. That will
be the truth, so far as the most of us are concerned. Won't it?"

"But cookies and doughnuts are pretty slim fare for hungry bodies,"
grumbled Vera, tugging at an unruly collar.

"Better than nothing," said Bessie cheerfully. "Dinner will taste all
the better."

"But we aren't ready," objected Julia, slipping the last hairpin in the
heavy coil at the back of her head. "My shoes aren't buttoned yet, and
I can't scare up a hook in the whole outfit."

"Bring 'em in your hand, then," suggested Gwynne. "I'm ready now, and
I elect myself commissary general to distribute the rations as you pass
out. Who'll be first in line? Gather up your bedding, Jessie, and
stack it in the corner, else Myra's aunt will think tramps camped here
instead of civilized human beings. Now, are you all clothed and in
your right minds? Then, Grace, poke your head out of the window and
announce to the audience that we will be out in a minute. Where are
your hats and coats? Yes, Kate, there'll be time for you to wash your
face if you haven't been able to do so before. Look pleasant, please!
No one must suspect that we've had no breakfast; but in my mind's eye,
I can see this bunch stowing away their dinner three or four hours from
now. Hope they serve it as soon as we get there. Do you suppose there
will be enough to go around? How far did you say it was, Myra? Forty
miles?"

Laughing and joking, the dozen hungry, breakfastless girls hurried into
their coats and veils, seized their pitifully small allotment of
doughnuts and cookies, and boisterously climbed aboard the autos
waiting for them.

"Only ten minutes late by actual count," Mr. Haskell complimented them,
as the merry crowd poured out of the door.

"Well, well, that's doing fine! How did it happen?"

"It's all Myra's fault," began Vera plaintively, but Myra, fearful that
she was about to be betrayed, hastily asked, "Where is the dinner, Dad?
Didn't mother tell you to bring----"

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