So she had patiently urged the expedition to Freeport and had made him promise weeks in advance that this particular date should be dedicated to the visit.
The day was a glorious success. Martin was in his sweetest, merriest mood and no regret over his lost sport lingered in his heart. There was only a faint stirring of wind and little indication that it would freshen, as previous days had been marked by calm; he was consoled, therefore, in thinking that in all probability there would be no race that afternoon.
Alice, Roy, and the children met them at the Freeport Station. They were all going on a picnic over to the beach it was announced; a launch would take them to a sandy reef that was their own discovery; it left a little after eleven; they just had time.
The beach when they reached it was totally deserted. No one ever came there, Alice explained; it was a narrow, hummocky strip of sand, a mile or more in length with no habitation on it but a gray weather-beaten shack falling into ruins. A rickety one-board pier jutted out into the lagoon that separated this reef from the island shore and the launch stopped there a moment to let the little party disembark before it went chug-chugging on its way to Coral Beach farther along the coast, where a small tent colony was springing into being. The launch would return for them about five o’clock.
A sandy tramp of a few hundred yards over the dunes and sparse gray sea-scrub brought them to the lunching spot. Here, half covered over with drifting sand, was a long padlocked pine box. Roy produced a key and opened it. This was the cache, the Beardsleys explained; they and the children came here every Sunday and they kept a few things stowed away in the box. Nobody ever disturbed them. This was their own little sandy domain, and they referred to it always as San Salvador. The box disclosed a tall faded, beach umbrella which was immediately unfurled and planted upright in the sand; then there was a piece of clean canvas, some straw cushions, and an iron grill. The canvas was spread under the umbrella; Roy made Jeannette seat herself on one of the cushions, and he propped a board at an angle behind her so that she might lean back against it and be comfortable; then she was given Ralph to hold and to feed from his bottle. The others proceeded to busy themselves with preparations for lunch. Etta was quite able to look out for herself, Alice assured her sister, and the baby would be off in ten minutes.