CHAPTER 17The Package In The Springhouse
“HEY, Linda! Where the dickens are you?”
It was Steve’s voice, and Linda turned to scan the people drifting toward the back porch where the Delight’s cook was cheerfully beating on a dishpan and proclaiming gallons of hot coffee. Steve was not in the crowd, but she finally found him down by the rubbish pit, collecting the axes and shovels and brooms that belonged on the Head.
“Would you help me scout around for this stuff?” he asked. “Wait and Bart are still on the fire hose, and I chased Dave and Bill back to help with that mob scene at the house.”
Linda nodded good-naturedly. “We’d better prowl around the beach, too,” she suggested. “People probably put their pitchers and saucepans down on the rocks after the pumper got here. I know I did. My
