by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XVI AN UNEXPECTED WELCOME
"It's an exact reproduction of an igloo!" exclaimed Lucile.
The three girls, following the example of their hostess, had droppedthrough a hole some three feet square, had poised for an instant upon aboard landing, to drop a second three feet and find themselves in a smallsquare room. Leaving this room, they had gone scooting along a narrowpassageway, to drop on their knees and crawl through a circular openinginto a room some twenty feet square.
"Why!" exclaimed their hostess, "have you seen an igloo somewhere?"
Lucile smiled. "Marian and I spent a year on the Arctic coast of Alaskaand Marian has lived most of her life in Nome on Behring Sea."
"Why then," Marie Neighbor's face was a study, "then I'm just a--a--whatdo you call it? a chechecko, I guess--beside you."
"Oh, no, nothing like that," smiled Marian.
"Anyway you'll help me with my book, won't you? I have it only a thirdfinished. After dinner I'll read that to you and you may tell me franklywhether it's any good or not."
"I tried a story once myself," said Lucile with a laugh.
"How did you come out with it?"
"Haven't come out yet, but I'm really crazy to get back to the city andfind out about it. I mailed it to the editor of 'Seaside Tales'."
The igloo was heated by genuine seal-oil lamps and over these Mariecooked her food. The pots and kettles were of the antique copper typetraded to Eskimos by Russians long before the white man reached theArctic shore of Alaska. The food cooked in this manner over a slow firewas declared to be delicious.
"And now," said their hostess, when the dishes had been washed and putaway, "I'll introduce you to my alcove bedroom."
Drawing aside a pair of heavy deerskin curtains she revealed a platformsome six by eight feet. This was piled high with skin rugs of alldescriptions. White bearskin, Russian squirrel, red fox and beaverrivaled one another in softness and richness of coloring.
"You see," she explained, "it's sort of a compromise between the narrowshelf of the Eskimo igloo and the broader sleeping room of the Chukchesof Siberia."
Lucile and Marian were fascinated. It took them back to the old days ofCape Prince of Wales, of East Cape and Siberia.
"Tell you what," exclaimed Lucile. "We'll all get fixed nice and comfyfor going to sleep, then we'll spread ourselves out in the midst of allthose wonderful rugs and you may read your book to us."
"Yes, and you'll be asleep in ten minutes," laughed Marie.
"No, no! No we won't," they all exclaimed.
"Then it's a bargain."
A few moments later filmy pink and white garments vied in color andsoftness with the rugs of Arctic furs while Marie in a well modulatedtone read the beginning of the story of Nowadluk, the belle of Alaska.The three companions were quite content to listen. The ways of lifeseemed once more very good to them. Their friends had been notified byradiophone of their safety. They were to return to-morrow or the dayafter. The wind had changed. The ice was already beginning to scatter.
Now and then Lucile or Marian would interrupt the reader to make asuggestion. When the end had been reached they were unanimous in theirassurance that it promised to be a wonderful story. Their only regretswere that more of it was not completed.
A half hour later Lucile and Marian were asleep. Florence and Marie weretalking in whispers. Florence had been relating their strange and weirdexperiences while living aboard the O Moo.
"So that's why you thought I was held captive by the Negontisks?" Mariechuckled.
"But really," she said presently, "there _were_ some of those people inChicago. May be yet, but no one knows."
"Tell me about it," Florence breathed excitedly.
"I don't know a great deal about it, only they were brought over fromSiberia for exhibition purposes during a fair in Seattle. From there theywere brought to Chicago by a show company. The company ran out of moneyand disbanded. The Negontisks were thrown upon their own resources.
"They were getting along one way or another when it was discovered thatthey were worshipping some kind of idol."
"A blue face," whispered Florence breathlessly.
"Something like that. It was believed that in their religious rites theyresorted to inhuman practices. The government looked into the matter anddecided to deport them. But just when the officials were preparing toround them up, they found that the last one of them hadvanished--vanished as completely as they might had the earth opened upand swallowed them.
"That was two or three years ago. The papers were full of it. I thinkthere was a reward offered for their capture. But I believe they neverfound a trace of them or their blue god."
"Oh!" whispered Florence, suddenly sitting up among the robes. "Oh, I dohope the ice is gone by morning!"
"Why? Aren't you happy here?"
"Yes, but I want to get back to the city--want to awfully. You see, Ithink I know where the blue god is and I want to go and find it."
It was the afternoon of the second day following the night spent in theigloo before they were able to leave the island. Ice still blocked theirpath, that first day, so they had spent the whole day piling the deck ofthe O Moo high with Christmas trees. Since fate had been kind to them inlanding them on the hospitable shores of this island they had been gladto do this much toward the happiness of others.
The lake could never have appeared more lovely. Its surface, smooth as amirror, reflected the white clouds which drifted lazily overhead. Thesun, sending its rosy reflections over all, made each tiny wavelet seem asaddle on the back of a fairy horse of dreamland. Across this dreamlandthe O Moo cut her way.
Now they were nearing the city. For some time they had been seeing thejagged line of sky scrapers. Now they could catch the outline of thebeach by the dry dock. Toward this they pointed the prow of the O Moo. Awireless telephone message had made known to Dr. Holmes the probable hourof their arrival. Old Timmie would doubtless be prepared to get the O Mooback upon her trestle.
"But what makes the shore all around the dock look so black?" puzzledLucile.
Just then there came a succession of faint and distant pop-pop-pops.
"Someone coming to meet us," Lucile decided, pleased at the thought.
Then there came another set of poppings, another and another, all inslightly different keys.
Now they could see the gasoline launches coming toward them. Seeming butsea gulls for size at first, they grew rapidly larger.
"Six of them," murmured Marian. "I didn't know we had that many friends."
Their amazement grew as three other boats put out from shore. ThenLucile, who had been studying the beach exclaimed:
"I do believe that black spot about the dry dock moves. It seems tocontract and expand, to waver backward and forward. You don't think itcould be--be people?"
"Why no, of course--yes! I do believe it is!" cried Marian.
"It's the newspapers," exclaimed Florence. "They've published a lot ofnonsense about our silly adventure and all those people have come down tosee us come in."
"And the people in those motorboats are reporters," groaned Marian. "It'sthe last of our life on the O Moo."
"That's over anyway," said Lucile. Her face was very sober. "By the timewe've paid for having this yacht put back in order, I figure we'll haveabout enough money left to buy soup and crackers for examination week anda ticket home. Good-bye old university!"
"Ho! Well," laughed Florence, "no use being gloomy about it. No use beinggloomy about anything. Life's too long for that. Let's make up what we'lltell the reporters. They won't print the truth anyway, so we might aswell tell them plenty."
"Tell them what you like," said Marie Neighbor, "only please don't givethem the location of my island. I don't want them to come out therebothering me."
"We'll guard your secret, never worry," smiled Lucile.
When the reporters' boats swarmed about them, the girls told as little asthey could, but w
hen later Dr. Holmes came on board with three officialreporters, they gave them the true story of their adventures.
They were shown their own pictures on the front pages of all the papersand were assured that nothing but their adventure had been talked ofsince their disappearance.
A woman had come on board with the reporters, a trim, matronly woman in atailored suit. At her first opportunity she drew Florence to one side totalk with her long and earnestly.
"The cabin of the O Moo is a wreck," Marian said to Dr. Holmes. "Butreally, Mr. Holmes, you may trust us to put it back into perfect shape ifit takes our last penny. You may send upholsterers and decorators over assoon as the O Moo is in dry dock."
"Tut--tut!" exclaimed the good doctor. "Don't let that trouble you.That's all provided for."
"Oh, no! Really you must let us pay for all that."
"Did it ever occur to you," his eyes were twinkling, "that the O Moomight be insured?"
"In--insured!" Marian's knees gave way. The news was too good to seemtrue.
"Then, then we can stay?"
"In school, yes, but on the O Moo, probably not. Too much publicity, yousee. University people would object and all that, don't you know. Butthen, cheer up. I fancy the lady dean is telling Florence of somethingwhich will interest you all."
"In the meantime," he exclaimed, "we are not getting ashore. Yo-ho,Timmie," he cupped his hands and shouted, "bring on the rowboats andtackle. Let's get her brought in."
