Chapter II
THE PILOT
Cloudy Island, so named because of the fog which usually held the islandin its grip and the group of clouds stationed above it like sentinels inthe sky, was but a two minute ride from the main shore. It was a brownstrip of land jutting up out of the blue Atlantic Ocean scarcely a milefrom the coast of Maine. It was covered with a thick growth of trees andunderbrush. About the only shelter of any kind was a fair sized logcabin which the young people had built as a combination picnic lodge andboat house.
Bruce's motor boat covered the distance in record time, its owner at thewheel and his companions crouched low, straining their eyes for a sightof the airplane.
"It fell at the north end, didn't it?" Phyllis murmured.
Bruce headed his boat for the sandy beach at the northern point. Bathingsuits and sunburned arms and legs flashed in the sun as they left theboat and the boys brought it to a safe anchorage on the beach.
The girls led the dash from the sandy shore into the thick growth oftrees, but there the boys soon overtook them.
"Janet will be wild because they were left behind," Phyllis declaredgaspingly as she ran along beside Gale.
Gale's answer was lost in a cry as they burst suddenly upon the wreckageof the red monoplane. One wing was crumpled beneath the heavy cabin ofthe plane and the wheels were sticking grotesquely up into the air. Thepropeller had snapped in half and the shining red surface of the planewas scratched and blackened. The cockpit yawned black and empty.
"Where's the pilot?" Peter demanded in amazement.
"Look!" Phyllis cried.
A man in the uniform of a flyer leaned weakly against a tree andendeavored to grin at them. There was mud and grime on his clothes andfrom a cut on his cheek blood was flowing. Bruce and David caught him ashe almost fell to the ground.
"Take him to the cabin," Peter proposed.
The other boys nodded in agreement and the girls ran on ahead. Pillowsand blankets were whisked into position for a makeshift bed. A smallfire was started in the stone fireplace and water put on to heat.
David, who was studying to be a doctor, put his knowledge to good use byexamining the pilot.
"Is he badly hurt?" Gale asked when her friend straightened up.
David shook his head. "I don't think so."
The pilot opened his eyes again and looked wordlessly from one to theother, letting his gaze rest finally and longest on Gale. Slowly he satup and negotiated it successfully, but when he tried to stand his leggave way beneath him.
"Take it easy," Peter encouraged.
"Sprained ankle," was the answer.
"Shall we get you a doctor?" Phyllis inquired anxiously. "We can takeyou back to the mainland in the boat."
He shook his head and smiled. "Plane a wreck?"
"Smashed," Gale supplied for him. She handed him a glass of cool springwater brought in by Peter.
He drained it and handed the glass back to her with a wide smile."Thanks, feel a lot better now. Where am I anyway?" He looked curiouslyabout the cabin, at the woven rug in the center of the floor, at thesmall radio set, at the furnishings and curtains at the window.
"We use this as a sort of camping lodge," Bruce explained. "In a shelternext to this we keep a small canoe. We often spend a whole day here onpicnics."
"Cozy place," the pilot declared.
"Don't you think you should go to a doctor with that ankle?" Peterinterjected. "We can easily run you over to Marchton."
The pilot looked at him thoughtfully. From Peter his gaze traveled inturn to each of the others. He frowned at the fireplace before he spoke.
"I don't know how to make you understand--I'd like to stay here in yourcabin--until my ankle mends. Will you rent it to me--say, for a fewweeks?"
"Of course," Bruce said with a frown, "but----"
"There is no one here on the island, and you would be all alone,"Phyllis said.
The pilot smiled. "I shan't mind that. I want to be by myself--no onemust know I am here. Absolutely no one, do you understand?"
"No, sir, we don't," Bruce said promptly.
"Why shouldn't anyone know you are here?" added David. "A lot of peoplemust have seen your plane fall."
The pilot ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I realize that, butlook here, couldn't you say I was unhurt and you took me to a railroadstation or an airport and I've gone away? It is so important that no oneknows I am here!"
The young people looked at him speculatively.
"Are you an escaped convict?" Phyllis asked outright.
The strange young man laughed heartily.
"Hardly!" he declared. "I am just a harmless flyer who desires a littlepeace and quiet for a while. What do you say? Will you help me keep mypresence here a secret? You can tell people my plane fell into the seaand was washed down the coast. There is no harm in keeping me hidden."
The young people could think of no convincing reason why they shouldtell anyone that the pilot desired to be alone on the island nor why heshould not stay here if he wished.
"I suppose it is all right," David said dubiously.
"Of course it is!" the man assured him.
"We can bring you food from the mainland," Gale suggested.
"Fine!" the pilot declared cheerfully.
After his ankle was bathed and bandaged and he declared his intention ofresting the young people had no choice but to take their leave.
"He seemed glad to be rid of us," Phyllis said in an injured tone asthey climbed back into Bruce's motor boat. "I wonder who he is?"
"We didn't ask his name," David murmured in surprise.
"There is something mysterious about him," Bruce said with a frown. "Iwonder if we should have let him stay at the lodge?"
"Why not?" Gale wanted to know. "He can't run away--not on his injuredankle--there is no harm in it. I think he is rather nice," she added,with an afterthought for the pilot's dark curly hair and handsome,boyish face. "Well, I do!" she insisted defiantly when the boys laughed.She remembered the way the pilot had looked at her and felt a pleasantlittle thrill. He had such a nice smile!
"What happened? Was he killed?"
Such were the cries from the other four Adventure Girls who had beenleft behind on the mainland.
The pilot's presence couldn't be kept a secret from these four girls sothe others told them everything that had happened, eliciting a strictpromise to keep confidential the man's presence at the lodge.
Janet and Carol were beside themselves with excitement and ecstasy. Tothink that a real, young, and handsome pilot should be plunged suddenlyinto their midst! Things like that very seldom happened in the littlecoastal town.
Marchton was a small but busy little town in Maine, bordering the rockycoast, and with its share of the traditional Maine woods.
The Adventure Girls had been raised, each one, in this sheltered spot;however, they were in no way behind the times. Readers of The AdventureGirls at the K Bar O Ranch are already familiar with the girls' desirefor adventure and love of the open road. All were in their last year atthe Marchton High School and looking forward eagerly to the day whenthey would enter college.
One by one the young people went into their homes as they left the beachand walked home in the glowing sunset until only Gale and Bruce wereleft. The boy and girl lived across the street from one another and itwas not until they came to the swinging, whitewashed gate of Gale's yardthat they parted.
Gale ran up the back stairs to her bedroom where she discarded thebathing suit for a trim sports outfit. With her English text book underone arm she descended to the porch to study until time for dinner.English at any time was a problem upon which Gale found it hard toconcentrate, but this afternoon it was even more difficult than usual.The brown, laughing face of the airplane pilot kept interfering with theprinted page.
All through dinner Gale kept thinking about him. She knew there was nofood to be had on the island and she decid
ed to take him some. Afterdinner, with the expressed opinion of going to the early show at themovies, Gale left home, but her destination was the grocery store. Notthe one her Mother usually patronized because it might come to herMother's ears what she was doing. It wasn't that her parents would notunderstand--nor forbid her to go, it wasn't that--but the pilot had saidto tell no one. If he wanted to be a secret, so he should be. Herparents would, perhaps, never say a word against what she was doing. Onthe other hand they might not like it at all. Gale hated explanationsand questions. When she had an impulse she liked to carry it through. Ofcourse, she decided guiltily, she would tell her Mother tomorrow--thenher parents could share the secret with her, but for to-night the pilotwould be her own secret.
Her chosen foodstuffs secure in a big brown bag Gale went down to thebeach. She had often used Bruce's motor boat and she knew he would notobject to her doing so now. She climbed aboard and deposited her bundleon the cushioned seat while she started the motor.
The stretch of water was black with white-tipped gentle waves as sheheaded the boat away from the shore toward Cloudy Island.