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diff --git a/25873-h/25873-h.htm b/25873-h/25873-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc2746b --- /dev/null +++ b/25873-h/25873-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9445 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Motor Girls On Crystal Bay, by Margaret Penrose. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; color: silver; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + hr.silver {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.4em} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Motor Girls on Crystal Bay, by Margaret Penrose + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Motor Girls on Crystal Bay + The Secret of the Red Oar + +Author: Margaret Penrose + +Release Date: June 22, 2008 [EBook #25873] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOTOR GIRLS ON CRYSTAL BAY *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.8em; margin-top:2em;'>THE MOTOR GIRLS</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.8em; margin-bottom:1em;'>ON CRYSTAL BAY</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p style=' font-size:1em;'>Or</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>The Secret of the Red Oar</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p style=' font-size:1em;'>BY</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:3em;'>MARGARET PENROSE</p> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title='' /><br /> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Copyright</span>, 1914, <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>by</span></p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Cupples & Leon Company</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>CONTENTS</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>I. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Worried Girl</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_A_WORRIED_GIRL'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>II. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Freda’S Story</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_FREDA_S_STORY'>15</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>III. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Crystal Bay</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_CRYSTAL_BAY'>26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>IV. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Red Oar</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_THE_RED_OAR'>36</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>V. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Two Men</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_TWO_MEN'>47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>VI. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The “Chelton”</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_THE__CHELTON'>55</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>VII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In The Motely Mote</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_IN_THE_MOTELY_MOTE'>67</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>VIII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Frights Or Fancies</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_FRIGHTS_OR_FANCIES'>76</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>IX. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Merry Time</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_A_MERRY_TIME'>83</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>X. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Too Much Joy</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_TOO_MUCH_JOY'>93</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XI. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Rescue</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_RESCUE'>102</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Calm</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_THE_CALM'>109</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XIII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Suspicion</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_SUSPICION'>120</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XIV. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>An Angry Druggist</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_AN_ANGRY_DRUGGIST'>129</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XV. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>An Alarm</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_AN_ALARM'>141</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XVI. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Bad Case Of Nerves</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_A_BAD_CASE_OF_NERVES'>156</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XVII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Little Race</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII_A_LITTLE_RACE'>164</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XVIII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>More Suspicions</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_MORE_SUSPICIONS'>171</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XIX. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Odd Talk</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_ODD_TALK'>176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XX. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Night Plot</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_THE_NIGHT_PLOT'>184</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XXI. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Breakdown</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXI_THE_BREAKDOWN'>196</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XXII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>At The Cabin</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXII_AT_THE_CABIN'>202</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XXIII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Unexpected Help</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIII_UNEXPECTED_HELP'>208</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XXIV. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Denny’S Soliloquy</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIV_DENNY_S_SOLILOQUY'>214</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XXV. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Plotters Arrive</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXV_THE_PLOTTERS_ARRIVE'>220</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XXVI. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Cora’S Brave Resolve</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVI_CORA_S_BRAVE_RESOLVE'>227</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XXVII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Red Oar Again</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVII_THE_RED_OAR_AGAIN'>235</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right'>XXVIII. </td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Discovery—Conclusion</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVIII_THE_DISCOVERY_CONCLUSION'>241</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.8em;'>The Motor Girls On Crystal Bay</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='I_A_WORRIED_GIRL' id='I_A_WORRIED_GIRL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>A WORRIED GIRL</h3> +</div> + +<p>Four girls sat on four chairs, in four different +corners of the room. They sat on the chairs because +they were really too tired to stand longer, +and the reason for the occupancy of the corners +of the apartment was self-evident. There was no +other available space. For the center of the +chamber was littered to overflowing with trunks, +suitcases and valises, in various stages of being +packed, and from them overflowed a variety of +garments and other accessories of a journey. +</p> +<p>“Oh, dear!” sighed Cora Kimball, as she gazed +helplessly about, “will we ever be finished, Bess?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” was the equally discouraging +reply. “It doesn’t seem so; does it?” +</p> +<p>“I’m sure I can’t get another thing in my suitcase,” +spoke the smallest girl of all, who seemed +to shrink back rather timidly into her corner, as +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +though she feared she might be put into a trunk +by mistake. +</p> +<p>“Oh, Marita! You simply must get more in +your suitcase!” exclaimed Cora, starting up. +“Why, your trunk won’t begin to hold all the rest +of your things unless you crowd more into the +case.” +</p> +<p>“The only trouble, Cora,” sighed Marita, “is +that the sides and top aren’t made of rubber.” +</p> +<p>“There’s an idea!” cried a plump girl, in the +corner nearest the piano. “A rubber suitcase! +What a boon it would be for week-ends, when one +starts off with a Spartan resolution to take only +one extra gown, and ends up with slipping two +party dresses and the ‘fixings’ into one’s trunk. +Oh, for a rubber suitcase!” +</p> +<p>“What’s the sense in sighing after the impossible?” +asked the girl opposite the plump one. +“Why don’t you finish packing, Bess?” +</p> +<p>“Why don’t you?” and the plump one rather +glared at her more frail questioner. +</p> +<p>“Now, sisters!” cautioned Cora, as she gazed +at the Robinson twins, “don’t get on one another’s +nerves. Let’s have another try at it. I’m sure +if we go at it with some sort of system we’ll be +able to get all the things in. And really we must +hurry!” she exclaimed, looking at the clock on the +mantel, which pointed to the hour of four. “I +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +promised to have all the baggage ready for the +man at five. That only gives us an hour——” +</p> +<p>“Cora Kimball!” +</p> +<p>“Only an hour!” +</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you tell us?” +</p> +<p>Thus the three girls exclaimed in startled tones +as they fairly leaped from their chairs in their respective +corners, and caught up various garments. +</p> +<p>Then, as the apparent hopelessness of the situation +overcame them again, they looked at one another, +at the trunks and suitcases that already held +their fair share of articles, at the accumulation on +the floor, and then they sighed in concert. +</p> +<p>“It’s no use,” spoke Bess Robinson. “I’m not +going at all—at least not now. I’m going to take +another day to sort out the things I really don’t +need.” +</p> +<p>“You can’t!” exclaimed Cora. “Our tickets +are bought, the bungalow is engaged, and we +leave for Crystal Bay on the morning train, if we +have to ship this whole room by freight—just as +it is!” +</p> +<p>“Perhaps that would be the easiest way,” suggested +timid Marita Osborne. +</p> +<p>“It certainly would create a sensation in Chelton,” +murmured Belle, as she looked at her plump +sister. “But come, we really must help you, Cora. +It’s too bad we took advantage of your good nature, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span> +and brought our things here to pack. We +might better have done it at our own homes.” +</p> +<p>“No, I think you’ll find my way best in the +end,” said Cora, with a smile, as she looked about +for a place in which to pack her sweater. “By +doing this we won’t duplicate on the extras. Now, +girls, try once more. Marita, let’s begin on your +suitcase, for that seems to be the smallest. Oh, +dear, Bess, what are you doing now?” she called, +as she noted an unusual activity on the part of the +plump girl. +</p> +<p>“I’m just seeing if I’m heavy enough to close +the lid of my trunk,” was the answer. “No, I’m +not,” she exclaimed, as she hopped on and hopped +off again. +</p> +<p>“Look out!” called Belle. “You nearly +stepped on my veil-box, Bess.” +</p> +<p>“Sorry, Sis, but you shouldn’t leave it on the +floor.” +</p> +<p>The plump one stood looking at the bulging +trunk, and then drew a long breath. +</p> +<p>“Girls!” she cried, “I’m losing weight.” +</p> +<p>“How do you know?” asked her sister +promptly. +</p> +<p>“Couldn’t close my trunk lid. That’s the way +I can always tell. Problem: Given a trunk, which +requires a force of one hundred and thirty-five +pounds to close down the lid, and a girl of one +hundred and fifteen, how many chocolates must +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +the said girl eat before she is heavy enough to +close the lid? Answer—one pound, and here’s for +a starter,” saying which pretty, plump Bess rummaged +in a pile of her belongings until she found +what she was after. Then, sinking down in a +heap of silk petticoats she began munching bonbons +with a contented air. +</p> +<p>“Bess Robinson!” gasped Cora. “You’re +never going to do that; are you?” +</p> +<p>“Do what?” came with an innocent air. +</p> +<p>“Sit there and eat chocolates until you’re heavy +enough to close down the lid of your trunk.” +</p> +<p>“I might as well. I can’t check it open that +way, and I can’t close it at my present weight. I +need everything I’ve squeezed into it; and so what +else can I do?” +</p> +<p>“If we could only get someone to help us,” +said Marita, innocently, seeming to take Bess +literally. “One of the boys——” +</p> +<p>She was interrupted by the laughter of the +others, for Marita was a newcomer in Chelton, +and though Cora and her chums had taken her up, +attracted by her nice ways, Marita did not yet +appreciate her new friends. +</p> +<p>“Don’t mind what Bess says, my dear,” spoke +Cora, as she saw that Marita was a little hurt at +the laughter. “As for the boys, please don’t +suggest such a thing. If they came in now, we’d +never get through packing. I hope——” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span></p> +<p>“All hope abandon, ye who enter here!” declaimed +a voice in the doorway, and the faces of +two young men peered in. +</p> +<p>“Too late!” exclaimed Cora, as she saw her +brother Jack and his chum, Walter Pennington. +“The boys are here! Any more of you, Jack?” +she asked, as she crowded some feminine finery +out of sight behind her back. +</p> +<p>“No. Why?” +</p> +<p>“Because I’m going to give general orders for +you to depart at once, and I want to include everyone. +Begone!” +</p> +<p>“Heartless one!” murmured Walter, sliding +into the room under Jack’s arm. “Just when we +came to help you, too!” +</p> +<p>“Here!” called Bess, from her position, +Turkish fashion, amid a billowy pile of garments, +“Help me up first, Wallie, my dear, and then sit +on my trunk.” +</p> +<p>“Why, is that the throne seat?” he asked, as +he extended his hand, and pretended to find it +extremely difficult to lift Bess to her feet. +</p> +<p>“No, but the lid needs closing, and I can’t do +it. Sit on it, that’s a good fellow,” and she extended +to him a chocolate from the tips of her +fingers, which fingers Walter pretended to bite. +</p> +<p>“Now you really must go,” said Cora, seriously, +when Walter had managed to close the trunk. +“Come, Jack, we have to get through by five +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +o’clock,” and she glanced at her brother, who was +in earnest conversation with Marita in her corner. +</p> +<p>Jack paid no attention to his sister, and Walter +was somewhat surprised to see Bess, after looking +with satisfaction at the trunk he had closed for +her, open it again. +</p> +<p>“Well, I like that!” he exclaimed, with pretended +indignation, “after me nearly breaking +my back to close that lid——” +</p> +<p>“I just wanted the things compressed, Walter +dear,” said Bess, sweetly. “I’ve got a lot more +to put in, and I couldn’t squeeze in another piece +until they had been crowded down a bit. Now +run along, little boy.” +</p> +<p>“Come on, Jack!” called Walter, as he turned +to go. “We have been insulted!” +</p> +<p>“They can’t insult me,” murmured Jack, never +turning to look at his chum. “Don’t be so thin-skinned, +Wal. I’m having a good time.” +</p> +<p>Cora’s girl chums looked at her. +</p> +<p>“Jack, you must go!” she insisted. “Please +do. I should think you boys would have lots to +do to get ready, too.” +</p> +<p>“All done, Sis,” murmured Jack. “We always +travel in light marching order, and sleep on our +arms,” and he bent closer to the blushing Marita. +</p> +<p>Cora bit her lip. Really she was provoked at +Jack this time. She and her chums were in the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +midst of packing for their annual Summer trip, +and to be interrupted this way, at the last critical +moment, was provoking. +</p> +<p>“Jack!” she began. “I shall tell mother——” +</p> +<p>“What’s he been doing now?” asked a new +voice, and with a gesture of despair Cora turned +to see another young man in the doorway. +</p> +<p>“Come on in, Ed,” called Jack. “Didn’t know +you were in town. You’re just in time to assist.” +</p> +<p>“What’s it all about?” asked the newcomer. +“Are you going or coming?” he inquired, as he +looked at the partially-filled suitcases and trunks. +</p> +<p>“Both,” answered Walter. “You’re coming +and they’re going.” +</p> +<p>“Good!” was the comment. “Hello, Cora—Bess—Belle——” +He paused as he nodded to +each of the girls, and looked questioningly at +Marita in the corner with Jack. +</p> +<p>“Oh, excuse me,” murmured Cora. “Miss +Osborne, let me present to you Mr. Edward Foster—just +plain Ed, mostly.” +</p> +<p>“The plainer the better,” observed the newcomer, +as he bowed to Marita. “But what’s it all +about, Jack?—No, there’s no use asking him,” he +murmured as he noted Cora’s brother resuming +his interrupted conversation with the little girl. +“Will someone please enlighten me?” +</p> +<p>“It’s our annual flitting,” sighed Cora. “And +really half the pleasure is taken away with this +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +packing. Well, as long as you boys are here you +might as well make yourselves useful, as well as +ornamental.” +</p> +<p>“Delighted!” cried Walter, looking about. +“Where shall I put this?” and he caught up a box +from the floor. +</p> +<p>“Be careful!” cried Belle. “You’ll spill it!” +</p> +<p>“Candy?” he asked questioningly, as he rattled +the contents. +</p> +<p>“My manicure set, and you’ll have it all upset. +Give it here!” went on the owner, and Walter +surrendered it. +</p> +<p>“No, but seriously, what’s it all about?” he +asked. “I’ve just come home.” +</p> +<p>“We girls have taken a bungalow at Crystal +Bay,” explained Cora. “We’re due there to-morrow, +leaving on the early morning train. The +boys, that is, Jack and Walter, are to have a tent +near us, and they’re supposed to go with us in the +morning. But unless they’re further along with +their packing than we are——” +</p> +<p>Cora shrugged her pretty shoulders. +</p> +<p>“Don’t worry, Sis, we are!” Jack threw at her, +without turning his head. +</p> +<p>“Camping at Crystal Bay—that sounds good,” +murmured Ed, who liked life in the open. +</p> +<p>“Can’t you come along, old man?” asked Walter. +“We’ve got plenty of room, and we were +counting on you later, when you got back from +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +your trip. Now, as long as you’re here, can’t you +come with us?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know but what I could. Yes, I will. +I haven’t anything on. I’ll go home and pack up +right away. You leave in the morning? I guess I +can make it.” +</p> +<p>“Well, when you go, please take them with +you,” and Cora indicated her brother and Walter. +“Then we’ll be able to go on with our packing. +Really, Jack,” and she spoke most seriously this +time, “you must go!” +</p> +<p>“All right, Sis!” he agreed. “Don’t forget,” +he added, to Marita, as he rose. +</p> +<p>“What nonsense has he been telling you now?” +asked Belle with a laugh. “Don’t believe him, +Marita.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t tell!” cautioned Jack. “It’s a secret!” +</p> +<p>Somehow the boys were gotten out of the room, +and somehow the girls managed to get through +with their packing in time for the expressman. +</p> +<p>From the Kimball home driveway the expressman +drove with the baggage, and soon the trunks +were rattling down the main street of Chelton, +that pretty New England town, nestling in a bend +of the Chelton River. +</p> +<p>“Well, that’s over, thank goodness!” sighed +Cora, as she saw the baggage safely off. “Now +to get ourselves ready for morning. You girls +will take supper with me.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></p> +<p>“Oh, that’s too much,” protested Belle. +</p> +<p>“No, really it isn’t. I’ve told mamma, and she +is counting on you. But I’m too excited to eat +much.” +</p> +<p>“So am I,” chorused the others. +</p> +<p>“And I’m so anxious to see our new motor +boat!” added Bess, for the girls had purchased +one that had been sent on ahead to Crystal Bay. +</p> +<p>“I do hope Ed can go,” murmured Belle. +“He’s such good company.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, I like him, too,” confessed Marita, with +a blush, at which the others laughed. +</p> +<p>The boys came over to the Kimball home that +evening, Jack having dined with Walter Pennington. +Ed came also, to say that he could go, and +then the young people talked over plans for Summer +fun, until the chiming of the clock warned the +girls, at least, that they must separate if they were +to get up early the next morning. +</p> +<p>“Lottie Weaver will meet us at the station,” +said Cora, referring to another of the party, who +had not assisted at the packing. +</p> +<p>“That’s good. If we had had her trunk over +here, with all our things, we’d never have gotten +the baggage off,” said Bess, with a sigh. +</p> +<p>“And now, after it’s all over,” said Cora to +her mother that night, “I think I would not again +have all the packing done in one place. I thought +it would save time for the girls to bring their +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +things here, especially as the Robinsons are so +upset with building that addition to the parlor. +But it was a lot of work!” +</p> +<p>“Oh, well,” said Mrs. Kimball, “you meant it +for the best, my dear. I’m sure you will have a +pleasant Summer.” +</p> +<p>They met at the station the next morning—the +girls and boys. Lottie Weaver was there, in the +glory of a new maroon sweater, and Ed Foster +was also on time. +</p> +<p>The express for Crystal Bay was late, and as +Cora and her motor girl chums marched up and +down the platform, nervously waiting, Cora saw +a girl coming from the waiting room. +</p> +<p>“Why, Freda Lewis!” she exclaimed, hurrying +up and putting her arms about her. “What are +you doing here? I thought you were going back +to Bar Harbor for the Summer.” +</p> +<p>“So we were! Oh, Cora! I’m so glad to see +you. I had to change cars here—I got on the +wrong train, it seems. I’ve been traveling all +night.” +</p> +<p>“You look it, my dear! Oh, if I had only +known you were here——” +</p> +<p>“I haven’t been waiting long. I’m to take the +Shore Express.” +</p> +<p>“That’s our train. But, Freda, you don’t look +at all well—not a bit as you did at school,” for +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +Freda was a chum Cora had made much of a year +or so before, but had not seen of late. +</p> +<p>“I’m not well, Cora,” said Freda, earnestly. +</p> +<p>“What is the trouble?” +</p> +<p>“Anxiety, mostly. Oh, Cora, we’ve had such a +dreadful time, mother and I!” +</p> +<p>Her voice trembled pitifully. +</p> +<p>“Freda, dear, what is the matter?” asked Cora +in sympathetic tones, for she saw tears in the +other’s eyes. +</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s money matters. You know we own—or +at least we thought we did—a large tract of +land at Crystal Bay.” +</p> +<p>“Crystal Bay!” exclaimed Cora, in surprise. +</p> +<p>“Yes. It was Grandfather Lewis’s homestead. +Well, most of our income has come from that since +father’s death, and now—Oh, I don’t know all the +details, but some land speculators—land sharks, +mother calls them—are disputing our title. +</p> +<p>“Mother has just worried herself sick over it, +and I’m afraid she is going into nervous prostration. +I’ve been to see some distant relatives about +the matter, but I can’t do anything. I’m so sorry +for dear little mother. If she should break +down——” +</p> +<p>Poor, worried Freda could not go on. Cora +held her close and the thought came to her that +Freda herself was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +The girl had changed very much from the +happy, laughing chum of a year before. +</p> +<p>“Freda, dear, tell me more about it,” murmured +Cora. “Perhaps I can help—I have friends—Jack +and I——” +</p> +<p>“Here comes the train!” interrupted Jack. +“Come on, Cora!” +</p> +<p>“I must see you again, Freda,” said Cora, +hastily. “I’ll look for you on the train. I’ve +got to get my party together. Don’t forget—I’ll +see you again!” and, wondering what was the cause +of her friend’s worry, Cora hastened up the platform, +toward her companions, while the train +steamed noisily in. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='II_FREDA_S_STORY' id='II_FREDA_S_STORY'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>FREDA’S STORY</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Well, are we all here?” +</p> +<p>“Count noses!” +</p> +<p>“Did anybody lose anything?” +</p> +<p>“If it’s a pocketbook it’s mine!” +</p> +<p>“Especially if it has money in it!” +</p> +<p>Thus the motor girls, and their boy friends, +sent merry quip and jest back and forth as they +found seats in the coach, and settled down for the +trip to Crystal Bay. Cora, after making sure that +the girls had comfortable seats, and noting that +Jack had pre-empted the place beside Marita, +leaned over Bess and whispered: +</p> +<p>“I’m going back in the next car for a little +while.” +</p> +<p>“What for?” +</p> +<p>“Did you lose anything?” asked Belle, who +overheard what Cora said. +</p> +<p>“No, but you saw me talking to that girl on the +platform; didn’t you?” +</p> +<p>“Yes, and I wondered who she was,” remarked +Bess. +</p> +<p>“She was Freda Lewis.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></p> +<p>“Freda Lewis! Why, I never would have +known her!” +</p> +<p>“Nor I!” added Belle. “How she has +changed! Of course you were more intimate +with her than we were, Cora; but she certainly +doesn’t seem to be the same girl.” +</p> +<p>“She isn’t,” replied Cora. “She and her +mother are in trouble—financial trouble. I’m +going back and talk to her. I want to help her if +I can.” +</p> +<p>And while Cora is thus bent on her errand of +good cheer, it may not be out of place, for the +benefit of my new readers, to tell a little something +more about the characters of this story, and +how they figured in the preceding books of this +series. +</p> +<p>To begin with the motor girls, there were three +of them, though friends and guests added to the +number at times. Somehow, in speaking of the +motor girls, I always think of Cora Kimball first. +Perhaps it is because she was rather of a commanding +type. She was a splendid girl, tall and dark. +Her mother was a wealthy widow, who for some +years had made her home in the quiet New England +town of Chelton, where she owned valuable +property. And, while I am at it, I might mention +that Jack was Cora’s only brother, the three forming +the Kimball household. +</p> +<p>Bess and Belle Robinson were twins, the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Perry Robinson. Mr. +Robinson was a wealthy railroad man, associated +with large metropolitan interests. +</p> +<p>Bess, Belle and Cora had been chums since their +motoring days began, when Cora had been given +a car, and, after some persuasion, Mr. Robinson +also had bought one for his daughters. +</p> +<p>I think I have already intimated that Bess was +plump and rosy—a little too plump, she herself admitted +at times. Her sister was just the opposite—tall +and willowy, so that the two formed quite +a contrast. +</p> +<p>Marita Osborne was a newcomer in Chelton, +who had soon won her way into the hearts of the +motor girls, so much so that Cora had invited her +to come to the bungalow at Crystal Bay. +</p> +<p>Each year Cora and her chums sought some +new form of Summer vacation pleasure, and this +time they had decided on the seashore, in a quiet +rather old-fashioned resort, which the girls, on a +preliminary inspection trip, had voted most charming. +In fact they went into such raptures over it +that Jack and his chums had decided to go there +also. So the boys and girls would be together. +</p> +<p>Speaking of the boys, the two who will come in +for the most consideration will be Walter Pennington +and Ed Foster. Walter was perhaps a closer +chum of Jack’s than was Ed, the former attending +Exmouth College with Jack, where, of late, Ed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +had taken a post-graduate course. Ed was considered +quite a sportsman, and was fond of hunting +and fishing. +</p> +<p>The first book of this series, entitled “The +Motor Girls,” tells how Cora became possessed of +her car, the <i>Whirlwind</i>, and what happened after +she got it. In that powerful machine she and her +girls chums unraveled a mystery of the road in a +manner satisfactory to themselves and many +others. +</p> +<p>When the motor girls went on a tour, they made +a strange promise—or rather Cora did—and +how she kept it you will find fully set forth in the +second volume. In the third you may read of the +doings of the girls at Lookout Beach, where came +two runaways whom Cora befriended. The runaways +were two girls—but there, I must not spoil +the story for you by telling you their secret. +</p> +<p>Going through New England in their cars, the +motor girls had a strange experience with the gypsies, +as set forth in the fourth volume. Cora was +in dire straits for a time, but with her usual good +luck, and her good sense, she finally turned the +situation to the advantage of herself and her +chums. +</p> +<p>Motoring so appealed to the girls that when +they got the chance to change from the land to the +water they eagerly took it. Cora became the owner +of a fine motor boat, and in the story “The Motor +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +Girls on Cedar Lake,” you may read of what she +and her friends did with their craft. The hermit +of Fern Island had much to be thankful for, after +meeting Cora, who did him a great service. +</p> +<p>Longing for wider waters in which to display +their skill as amateur motor-boatists, the girls +went to the coast the Summer following their experiences +on Cedar Lake, and there they found +the waif from the sea. Again did Cora and her +chums take advantage of an opportunity to befriend +an unfortunate. +</p> +<p>The experiences of that Summer were talked of +nearly all of the following Winter. Now warm +weather had come again, and with it the desire to +be flitting to a watering place. Crystal Bay, as I +have said, was selected, and of the start for that +place I have already told. +</p> +<p>Cora, walking back through the coaches, looking +from side to side for Freda, found herself +wondering what had caused the sudden change +in her former companion. +</p> +<p>“She was considered well-off at school,” murmured +Cora, as she saw her friend half way down +the second coach, “but she never appeared fond +of money. Now the loss of it seems to have +changed her terribly. I wonder if it can be—just +money?” +</p> +<p>Cora reached the seat where Freda was, with +her face turned toward the window. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></p> +<p>“Well, I am here, you see,” announced Cora, +pleasantly. “I left them to shift for themselves a +while. They do seem to depend so much on me.” +</p> +<p>“That’s because you are always doing things +for others,” said Freda, and there was a suspicious +brightness in her eyes. +</p> +<p>“Then I hope I can do something for you!” +exclaimed Cora, earnestly. “Come, Freda, dear, +tell me your troubles—that is, if you would like +to,” she added quickly, not wishing to force a confidence +for which the other might not be ready. +</p> +<p>“Oh, Cora, dear, of course you know I want +to—it isn’t that! Only I don’t like to pile my +worries on you.” +</p> +<p>“Go on—it always helps to tell someone else. +Who knows but what I may help you. Is it a real +worry, Freda?” +</p> +<p>“So real that sometimes I am afraid to think +about it!” +</p> +<p>There was no mistaking the girl’s fear. She +looked over her shoulder as though she expected +to see some unpleasant object, or person. +</p> +<p>“Suppose you begin at the beginning,” suggested +Cora, with a smile. “Then I’ll know what +we are talking of.” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know what the beginning was,” said +Freda slowly, “but I can almost see the—ending,” +and she seemed to shiver. “But where are you +going, Cora, you and your friends?” she asked. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +“I must not be selfish and talk only about myself.” +</p> +<p>“We are going to Crystal Bay.” +</p> +<p>“Crystal Bay! How odd, just where mother +is, and where I am going. Then I shall see you +often.” +</p> +<p>“I hope so,” murmured Cora. “We have a +cute little bungalow, and the boys—my brother +and his chums—will use a tent. But I want to +hear more about your trouble. Really, Freda, you +do look quite ill.” +</p> +<p>“Perhaps that is partly because I have been +traveling all night. It is always so wearying. But +my chief cause of anxiety is for mother. She is +really on the verge of a breakdown, the doctor +says. Oh, if anything happens to her——” +</p> +<p>“Don’t think of it,” urged Cora. “Perhaps it +will help you if you tell me some particulars.” +</p> +<p>“I will,” said Freda, bravely. “It is this way. +My grandfather was a pioneer land-owner of a +large tract at Crystal Bay. It came to us, after +papa died, and we lived well on the income from +it, for there was much farm land besides the big +house we lived in. But a month or so ago a big +land company, that wants to get our property for +a factory site, filed a claim against us, saying we +had no good title to the estate. They said certain +deeds had not been filed, and that we were only +trespassers, and must get off.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span></p> +<p>“And did you go?” asked Cora, with deep interest. +</p> +<p>“Not yet, but I am afraid we’ll have to. You +see these men took the matter to court. They got +an injunction, I think it is called. Anyhow, it was +some document that forbade the people who rent +the land from us from paying us any more money +until the case was settled. And, as we depend on +the rents for our living—well, you see we haven’t +any living now, to speak of,” and Freda tried to +smile through her tears. +</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s a shame!” cried Cora, impulsively. +“And can nothing be done?” +</p> +<p>“We have tried, mother and I. But we really +have no money to hire lawyers, and neither have +any of what few friends and relations there are +left. I have just been on a quest of that kind, but +it was not successful. +</p> +<p>“There are supposed to be some documents—deeds, +mortgages, or something like that, in existence, +and if we could only get hold of them we +might prove our claim, and force the men to let +us have our rent money again. But until we get +those papers——” +</p> +<p>Freda paused suggestively. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I wish I could think of a way to help +you!” murmured Cora. “I can see you have been +suffering!” +</p> +<p>“I don’t mind so much about myself,” said +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +Freda, bravely, “but I am really more worried +about mother than I am about the property. If +worst came to worst I could go to work, but +mother has taken so to heart the actions of the +land sharks! She never was strong, you know. +You met her; did you not?” +</p> +<p>“I think not, but perhaps I may have done so. +Now, Freda, I am going to help you!” +</p> +<p>Cora spoke enthusiastically. +</p> +<p>“Are you? How?” asked the other, eagerly. +</p> +<p>“I don’t just know how, but I am. First I’m +going to think this over, and then I’m going to talk +about it with Jack. He has a friend—Ed Foster—who +knows something about law. We may be +able to get ahead of these land sharks yet.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I hope so!” gasped Freda, with a fond +look at Cora. “It is so good of you to bother +with poor me.” +</p> +<p>“And why shouldn’t I?” asked Cora. “You +look as though you needed bothering with. Take +care that you don’t break down, too, Freda.” +</p> +<p>“I shall keep up. I must, for mother’s sake. +Oh, but those men were positively brutal when +they told her she had no right to grandfather’s +property! But it has done me good to talk to +you, Cora dear.” +</p> +<p>“I am glad of it. You look better already. +Now wouldn’t you like to come forward and meet +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +some of the girls? You know the Robinson twins, +anyhow.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, I know them. But I don’t want to see +anyone just yet. Later on, perhaps. I just want +to rest, and think. It was awfully good of you to +come to me. We shall see each other at Crystal +Bay.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, indeed we shall. Well, then, if you won’t +come I’ll go back to my friends. Now don’t forget—I’m +going to help you, Freda!” +</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s so good of you! I feel more hope +and courage now. I—I feel like—fighting those +land sharks!” and Freda clenched her little hands +as though the struggle to come would be a physical +one. +</p> +<p>With a reassuring pat on Freda’s shoulder +Cora left her friend, to go to her chums in the +other coach. She found them about to organize +a searching party to look for her, and they clamored +for the reason for her desertion. +</p> +<p>She told them something of Freda’s story, and +Ed Foster promised to talk the matter over with +Mrs. Lewis later, and see if he could give any legal +aid. +</p> +<p>“It’s too bad!” exclaimed Bess. “There ought +to be a law to punish such men.” +</p> +<p>“There probably are laws,” said Cora, “but +the trouble is there are so many laws that bad men +can often use them for their own ends.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></p> +<p>“Bravo, Portia. A Daniel come to judgment!” +cried Ed. “With you on her side, Freda is sure +to win!” +</p> +<p>But, though the motor girls tried to be merry, +the little cloud of Freda’s trouble overshadowed +them all the way to Crystal Bay. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='III_CRYSTAL_BAY' id='III_CRYSTAL_BAY'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>CRYSTAL BAY</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Here we are!” +</p> +<p>“Where’s the bungalow?” +</p> +<p>“Me for that motor boat of Cora’s!” cried +Jack. +</p> +<p>“No, you don’t!” exclaimed his sister. “Not +till I try her first.” +</p> +<p>They had alighted at the station, and there was +the confusion that always follows engaging a carriage +and seeing that the baggage has safely +arrived. Cora found time to slip off for a minute +and whisper words of cheer to Freda. Then she +rejoined her chums, and made ready for the trip +to the bungalow. +</p> +<p>The boys, with a fine disregard of housekeeping +responsibilities, were already making plans to go +fishing that afternoon, having spied a man who +took out parties in his launch. +</p> +<p>But finally order came out of chaos. The girls +found themselves at their bungalow, surrounded +by their belongings. The boys, after seeing that +their possessions were piled in the tent, slipped on +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +their oldest garments and began overhauling their +fishing tackle. +</p> +<p>“Aren’t you going to do anything toward getting +a meal?” asked Cora of Jack, as she went +over to the tent to borrow a corkscrew with which +to open some olives. +</p> +<p>“We thought maybe you’d ask us over,” he +answered, craftily, as he adjusted a reel on his +rod. +</p> +<p>“Oh, Jack!” she cried. “We can’t! We’ve +got so much to unpack. Besides, we’re only going +to have a light lunch now.” +</p> +<p>“A <i>light</i> lunch! Excuse me. I know—crackers, +pickles and olives. Never! We’ll go to the town +delicatessen, sister mine!” +</p> +<p>“Thank goodness there is one,” murmured +Cora. +</p> +<p>She hastened back to the bungalow. And then +began a series of strenuous happenings. +</p> +<p>Somehow trunks and suitcases were unpacked; +somehow rooms were picked out, rejected, taken +again, and finally settled on. Then, between the +nibblings at the crackers and pickles Jack had despised, +the girls settled down, and at last had +time to admire the place they had selected for their +Summer stay. +</p> +<p>A woman had been engaged to open the bungalow +for them, and she had provided most of the +necessaries of life, aside from those the girls +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +brought with them. Cora and her chums had been +satisfied to have her attend to everything from +buying food to providing an oil stove on which +to cook it. +</p> +<p>There were a number of conveniences at Crystal +Bay. Stores were not out of reach, and supplies +could be procured with little trouble. A trip +across the bay brought one to the shores of a real +village, with school house, post-office and other +accessories of civilization. A trip down the bay +opened into eel pots in August, bluefishing in +September and deep sea fishing later on, when the +Summer colonists had departed. +</p> +<p>Very early in the morning after the arrival of +the motor girls at Crystal Bay, house, tent and +bungalow were deserted—it was all a matter of +motor boat. Moored to the brand new dock, at +Tangle Turn, a brand new motor craft heaved +with the incoming waves and tugged at its ropes +whenever a sufficiently strong motion of the water +gave it excuse to attempt an escape. +</p> +<p>This was the <i>Chelton</i>, the “up-to-datest” little-big +motor boat possible to own or acquire, according +to the verdict of the young men from Chelton +who had just now passed judgment, and the wise +decision of Cora and her girl friends who had +actually bought the boat, after having taken a +post-graduate course in catalogs and hardware +periodicals, to say nothing of the countless interviews +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +they had found it necessary to hold with +salesmen and yacht agents. +</p> +<p>They were all there, even Freda, who declared +she ought to be busy with other matters, but that +the call of the colony was too strong for her that +one morning, at least. +</p> +<p>“Of course we know how to run her,” insisted +Cora to Ed, the latter having expressed doubt as +to the girls’ ability to manage so important a craft. +“Didn’t we run the <i>Pet</i>?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, but this—this is a deep-sea boat,” Ed +explained, “and you might run yourselves away to +other shores.” +</p> +<p>“And land on a desert island? What sport!” +exclaimed Lottie, to whom motor boating was an +entirely new experience. “I hope we make it +Holland. I have always longed to see a real, live +Holland boy. The kind who are all clothes and +wooden shoes.” +</p> +<p>“We might make one up for you,” suggested +Belle. “I think Wallie would look too cute for +anything in skirty trousers and polonaise shirts. +Just let his locks grow a little—Look out there, +Bess! That’s water around the boat. It only +looks like an oil painting. It’s real—wet!” +</p> +<p>Bess was climbing over the dock edge, and of +course the boys could not allow her that much +exercise without pretending that she was in danger +of going overboard. After Belle unhooked +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +the hem of her sister’s skirt from an iron bolt, +thereby giving Bess a sudden drop to the deck of +the <i>Chelton</i>, however, Bess declared she knew +water when she saw it, and also the difference between +a water color and an oil painting. +</p> +<p>“What did you call her <i>Chelton</i> for?” asked +Walter. “I thought you decided to take the +name from the first remark the first stranger +should make about her.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, and what do you think that was?” +laughed Belle. +</p> +<p>“‘Push’!” promptly answered Freda. “An old +fisherman came along as Jack was arranging the +painter, and he just said ‘push’!” +</p> +<p>“That would be a handy little name,” commented +Walter. +</p> +<p>“Next some boys, out clamming, saw her,” +said Jack, “and they said ‘peach.’” +</p> +<p>“Either of which would have done nicely,” declared +Ed. “Peach would have been the very +name—after the girls——” +</p> +<p>“<i>Chelton</i> is dignified and appropriate,” interposed +Cora; “besides, if we should stray off to +Holland they would know along the Dikes that +we belonged in Chelton.” +</p> +<p>“Now don’t forget that the wheel is a sea +wheel and turns opposite to the direction you want +to go,” cautioned Jack. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></p> +<p>“How is that?” inquired Lottie, who had +joined the other in examining the boat. +</p> +<p>She was shown with patience. The boys were +plainly glad that one of the girls, at least, did not +know all about running a motor boat. +</p> +<p>“And oh, what is that?” gasped Marita. +“That cunning little playhouse!” +</p> +<p>“Playhouse!” repeated Cora. “That’s our +living room—our cabin. Those fixtures are to +cook with, eat with, live with and do all our housekeeping +with.” +</p> +<p>“Also die with,” added Walter. “I think that +electric toaster might be all right for fudge, but +for real bread—Now say, Cora, can you really +cook pork and beans on that?” +</p> +<p>“These are the very latest, most improved and +most expensive electric attachments on the market,” +answered Cora, with a show of dignity, “and +when you boys take a meal here, if we ever invite +you to, I think we can easily prove the advantage +of electrical attachments over campfire iron pots.” +</p> +<p>The cooking apparatus was examined with interest. +A motor boat cabin fitted up with such a +“kitchenette” was indeed a novelty. +</p> +<p>“You see,” explained Cora, “we have two ways +of getting power. We can take it from the storage +battery, or from the little dynamo attached to +the motor.” +</p> +<p>“Lovely!” exclaimed Lottie, to whom a “current” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +meant little, but who wanted to seem interested. +</p> +<p>“That is to provide for the various kinds of +cooking,” Jack said, jokingly. “Now eggs are +weak, they cook by storage; but a Welsh rabbit is +done by the dynamo.” +</p> +<p>“It means something else,” Captain Cora remarked, +“namely, if we have company for supper, +and the storage current gives out, we will not have +to make it a progressive meal, extending into the +next day. The course can be continued from the +extra current.” +</p> +<p>“For the love of Malachi!” exclaimed Walter. +“What’s this?” +</p> +<p>“Our boiler,” said Bess, who knew something +about the boat’s fitting up. “We have that for +dishwater.” +</p> +<p>“Dishwater!” repeated Ed. “You’ve got this +down to domestic science all right. That rubber +hose runs off the hot water from the cylinder jacket, +and——” +</p> +<p>“Oh, never!” cried Jack. “They will be making +tea with it.” +</p> +<p>“Isn’t it salty?” innocently asked Marita. +</p> +<p>“Likely,” said Belle, for the girls had all taken +an interest in the housework-made-easy-plan, and +had arranged to use the boiling water as it came +from the motor after cooling the cylinder. “But +it won’t hurt dishes.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span></p> +<p>“Now I call that neat,” commented Ed, “and +to think that mere girls should have thought of it.” +</p> +<p>Freda gave Cora a meaning glance. “Girls +ought to think of the housework,” she laughed +with a wink at Belle. “Just look at the linen +chest.” +</p> +<p>She opened a small box and exhibited a goodly +supply of suitable linen. No table cloths; just +small pieces, doilies and plenty of neat, pretty +towels. +</p> +<p>“Let’s board here,” suggested Walter. “Our +food was really rude this morning.” +</p> +<p>“Do we go out for a sail?” asked Ed, attempting +to turn on the gasoline. +</p> +<p>“Oh, no indeed!” Cora answered quickly. +“Not a box is unpacked in our place yet, and perhaps, +if you boys are all to rights, you wouldn’t +mind giving us a hand.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, of course we’re all to rights,” replied +Jack. “I had a bolt of mosquito netting for my +blanket last night and Wallie’s bathrobe for my +pillow.” +</p> +<p>“And I made friends with a pretty, little, soft +ground mole, Jack,” put in Ed, “and if the rest +of our boxes do not arrive and unpack themselves +in time for your slumber this eve, that mole has +agreed to cuddle up under your left ear. I believe +you sleep on your left.” +</p> +<p>“Thanks,” Jack said, “but I see no reason why +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +mere household truck should keep us from a cruise. +I am aching to try the <i>Chelton</i>, Cora.” +</p> +<p>Cora and Freda were talking in whispers in the +other end of the boat. It was no “mere household +truck” surely that brought the serious expression +to their faces. +</p> +<p>“It isn’t far,” Freda was heard to say, “and +he promised to wait for us this morning.” +</p> +<p>“And I do want to be with you,” Cora answered. +“But I won’t let them take the boat out the first +time without me. It cost too much to run the risk +of damaging it by sky-larking.” +</p> +<p>“Now what are you two up to?” demanded +Jack. “Just because Drayton Ward has not arrived, +we are held up for his coming. I tell you, +Sis, that chap may not put in an appearance at all, +here. He knows—sweller places.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t you mind him, Cora,” Ed interrupted. +“Dray is sure to come. He had his canoe +shipped two days ago, besides sending to the cove +for his motor boat. I expect some tall times when +he gets here. Our own innocent little <i>Lassie</i> won’t +know how to skip over the waves at all—she’ll be +that flustered when the swell, gold-railed, mahogany-bound, +carpet-floored <i>Dixie</i> gets here.” +</p> +<p>“It would take more than a mere <i>Dixie</i> to +knock out our <i>Lassie</i>,” declared Walter, “but I +should like to know why she is not on the scene +yet. Didn’t we plainly say Tuesday?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span></p> +<p>“We did, plainly and emphatically. But a +boat builder, letter or seller has a right to make +his own day in delivering the goods. We’ll be +lucky if we get the barge at all without taking the +sheriff up to that shipyard.” +</p> +<p>“Meanwhile we have the <i>Chelton</i>,” said Ed, +tugging at Cora’s sleeve. +</p> +<p>“And we must get back to the bungalow,” she +observed. “Freda and I have an important appointment +for eleven, and if you all promise not +to follow us or attempt to go out in the <i>Chelton</i>, +perhaps we will have some interesting news for +you this evening.” +</p> +<p>The boys strolled away, talking about the motor +boat they had hired. Money, for some reason, +was not plentiful that Summer with Jack and his +chums, and they had to be content with a second-hand +craft, that had been patched and re-patched +until there was little of the original left. They +were not even sure the <i>Lassie</i> would run, but they +were anxious to try her. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IV_THE_RED_OAR' id='IV_THE_RED_OAR'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>THE RED OAR</h3> +</div> + +<p>“This way, Cora. The sand is so heavy out +there it is better to keep near the edge,” said +Freda, as the two girls tramped along in the deep +sand of the seashore that banded Crystal Bay. +</p> +<p>“But isn’t it perfectly beautiful along here?” +exclaimed Cora, in rapt delight. “I had no idea +the little place could be so charming.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, yes,” returned Freda, with a suspicion of +a sigh. “Over there, just in that splendid green +stretch is, or was, grandfather’s place. It runs +all along to the island, and on the other side there +is a stream that has been used for a mill race.” +</p> +<p>“Over there!” Cora repeated. “Why, that +looks like the very best part of the bay. And +that house on the hill?” +</p> +<p>“Grandfather’s own home and—mother’s,” +finished Freda. +</p> +<p>“Is it rented now?” +</p> +<p>“Yes, we have rented it for three years, and it +has brought us quite a little income,” said Freda. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span></p> +<p>“But you see that is cut off now. I am sure I do +not know who collects the rents.” +</p> +<p>“What a shame!” cried Cora. “And all because +there is some technical proof of ownership +missing. I should think that when your family +had undisputed possession for years it ought to be +sufficient to establish your rights.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, we never dreamed we could lose it,” +Freda explained. “Mother and I have lived +there in the Winter since father died, and we have +rented it in Summer, as I said. Of course the +Summer is the desirable time here. And we had +some of the loveliest old furniture. But when we +had to break up we sold most of it.” +</p> +<p>“Look out! There’s a hole there,” Cora +warned just in time, for in the heavy sand little +rivulets were creeping from some rollers tossed in +by a passing boat. The bay was dotted with many +craft, and the picture it presented gave Cora keen +delight, for it forecasted a merry Summer for the +motor girls. +</p> +<p>“We only have a little farther to go,” Freda +said. “I hope old Denny has kept his word and +stayed in. He is the queerest old fellow—you will +be amused at him, I am sure. But he was always +such a staunch friend of grandfather.” +</p> +<p>“I am anxious to meet him,” rejoined Cora. +“Somehow I feel we girls ought to get at the bottom +of this. Wouldn’t it be fine if we could?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></p> +<p>“More than fine, it would be glorious!” Freda +replied. “If we lose it all now, I will have to look +for work. Not that I mind that,” she added, “but +I intend to take a course in nursing. I have always +longed to be a nurse.” +</p> +<p>“And that would be a splendid profession for +you,” Cora agreed. “I do hope you will not have +to go to work in some office.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, there’s Denny! Denny!” called Freda, +leaving Cora without further ceremony, and hurrying +ahead as fast as the soft sand would allow. +“See, there he is! Just going out in his fishing +boat.” +</p> +<p>Cora ran after her, and soon they overtook the +old fisherman, who was deaf. Freda didn’t mind +getting her shoes wet in order to approach the +water’s edge. +</p> +<p>“Good morning, Denny,” she called, “come in +here. We want to talk to you.” +</p> +<p>He took his pipe from his mouth, in order that +his mind should not be distracted. Then he pushed +his cap back, and dropped an oar. +</p> +<p>“Freddie, is that you?” he asked. “Sure I +thought you was comin’ up to the shack, and I’ve +bin waitin’ for you.” +</p> +<p>“We are on our way up there now. You are +not going out, are you?” pleaded Freda. +</p> +<p>“No, Freddie,” (he always called her Freddie), +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +“I’ll come right in. I was only goin’ acrost to +get a few little things; but they can wait.” +</p> +<p>Cora now had a chance to see this quaint old +fellow. He was Irish, with many fine humorous +wrinkles about his eyes and mouth. He seemed to +breathe through his pipe, so constantly did he inhale +it, and just how he kept his sailor’s blouse so +clean, and his worn clothes so neat, was a trick he +had learned in his younger days in the navy. +</p> +<p>“Isn’t this a fine day?” he commented, with a +nod to Cora. +</p> +<p>“Simply perfect,” she answered, seeing there +was no need for a formal introduction. “I have +been telling Freda how surprised I was at the +beauty of this place.” +</p> +<p>“Surprised, is it? Sure, there ain’t another spot +this side of Cape Cod with as many fine points to +it. I wouldn’t leave this little bay for a berth on +any ocean liner.” +</p> +<p>“My friend, Cora Kimball, is from Chelton, +Uncle Denny. Do you know where that is?” +asked Freda. +</p> +<p>“Chelton? Chelton? Sure, I do. I went +through there once in a parade wagon. We were +out with the G. A. R. and I guess the parade got +lost, for I remember at Chelton we had to put up +for the night in an old church they were using for +a fire house. But we had a fine time,” and he +chuckled at the recollection. “And next day we +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +finished up without the need of a wagon. It was +like camp days to scatter ourselves about the big +ramshackle place.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, that’s out in the East End,” Cora +said. “We have quite an up-to-date fire house in +Chelton Center.” +</p> +<p>“Well, that was good enough for me,” he asserted. +“But come along and I’ll show you my +shack. Freddie will be surprised at my new decorations.” +</p> +<p>Up the little board walk to a path through the +woods the three tramped. Denny Shane was popular +with young folks; even the mischievous boys +who would occasionally untie his boat before a +storm had no reason to fear his wrath, for such +pranks were quickly forgotten. +</p> +<p>“And the mother, Freddie?” he asked. +“How’s she gettin’ on?” +</p> +<p>“Well, she worries a good deal,” the girl replied. +“But I keep telling her it must come right +in time.” +</p> +<p>“Sure it will. The rascals that would do wrong +to a widder couldn’t prosper. ’Taint lucky. But +they’re foxy. Did you hear anything new?” +</p> +<p>“Yes, but not much that is substantial. My +friend and I want to see you to find out all that +you may know about it. Perhaps there is some +clue we have been overlooking, that you could give +us.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p> +<p>“Well, you’re welcome to all I know. But here +we are. No need to unlock my door,” he said as +he saw Cora smile at his unceremonious entrance +to the shack. “Them that has nothin’ has nothin’ +to fear.” +</p> +<p>A surprising little place, indeed, the girls were +shown into. Neat and orderly, yet convenient and +practical, was Denny Shane’s home. There was a +stove and a mantel, a table, two chairs and a long +bench. Pieces of rag carpet indicated the most +favored spots—those to be lived on. +</p> +<p>“And now, Freddie,” began Denny, drawing +out two chairs, “what do you think of my housekeeping?” +</p> +<p>“Why, you are just as comfortable and neat as +possible,” she replied. “But I notice one thing +has not lost its place—your red oar.” +</p> +<p>“No—indeed!” he said almost solemnly. +“That oar will stay with me while Denny Shane +has eyes to see it. It has a story, Freddie, and I +often promised to tell it to you. This is as good +a time as another.” +</p> +<p>He put his pipe down, brought a big chair up to +the window, opened a back door to allow the salt +air to sweep in; then, while Cora looked with +quickening interest at the old red oar, that hung +over the fireplace, Denny shook his head reflectively +and started with his story. +</p> +<p>“That oar,” he said, “seems like a link between +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +me and Leonard Lewis—your grandpa, Freddie. +And, too, it is a reminder of the night when I +nearly went over the other sea, and would have, +but for Leonard Lewis and his strong red oar.” +</p> +<p>A light flashed into the old eyes. Plainly the +recollections brought up by his story were sacred. +He left his chair and went over to the mantel, +climbed up on a box and touched the oar that had +sagged a little from its position. +</p> +<p>“The wind rocks this shanty so,” he explained, +“the oar thinks it’s out on the waves again, I +guess. I don’t like to spoil it with nails or strings.” +</p> +<p>“It looks very artistic,” Cora declared; “but +how curious that an oar should be painted red.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, there was only one pair of them, that I +know of. One went with the wreck, and this one +Len Lewis held on to. Now I’ll tell you about it.” +</p> +<p>Again he seated himself and this time started +off briskly with the tale. +</p> +<p>“It was a raw January night—in fact, it seemed +as if it had been night all day for all the chance the +sun had to get out. A howling wind whistled and +fairly shrieked at everything that didn’t fly fast +enough to suit it. Len and me had been puttin’ +in a lot of time together at his house, just chinnin’—there +wasn’t much else to do but to keep warm. +Well, along about five o’clock, we heard a rocket! +The wind died away for a minute or so, and we +dashed out to the beach to get the lay of that distress +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +signal. Talk about big city fires!” he +digressed. “A fire on land ain’t what it is on sea. +It always seems like as if death has a double +power with the fire and the deep and nothing but +the sky above to fan the flame. +</p> +<p>“We soon saw the smoke. It was from a point +just over the turn, where the clouds dip down and +touch the waves. A little tail of smoke crawled up +and hung black and dirty, not gettin’ any bigger +nor spreadin’ much. When we sighted her, we +went to work in the way men of the sea have of +working together and never sayin’ a word. Up +the beach we chased, and dragged out the boat we +called our ‘Lifer.’ It was a good, strong fishin’ +boat, and we kept her ready in the rough weather. +</p> +<p>“‘Wait!’ yelled Len to me, just as I was pushin’ +off. ‘I’ve got a lucky pair of oars. They’re +bigger and heavier than ours, and I’ll toss ’em in. +We might need ’em.’ +</p> +<p>“Little I thought of the need we would have! +And I always laughed at Len’s idea of luck—and +me an Irishman, too.” +</p> +<p>“Mother always said grandfather was queer +about such things,” Freda remarked. “I remember +we had an old jug that he found on one of his +birthdays. He would never allow that jug to be +thrown out; he said it meant a jug full of good +luck.” +</p> +<p>“And it, of course, was an empty jug,” Cora +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +said, with a smile. “Perhaps that is, after all, +the luckiest kind.” +</p> +<p>Denny chuckled over that remark, and added +he had not much use for jugs of any kind. +</p> +<p>“But I’m gettin’ away from my yarn,” he said, +presently. “We took the big thick oars and +pulled out against the wind. By this time the hail +was comin’ down in chunks that would cut the face +off you. Sometimes there are a lot of stragglers +around here, but when we need a man, of course, +there is not one in sight. But we rowed away and +somehow managed to get close to the wreck. It +was a little steamer, not much bigger than a tug, +and it was burning faster than the smoke told us. +</p> +<p>“‘You throw the rope and I’ll stick to the +oars!’ shouted Len, his voice sounding like a +wheeze in the wind. There were three men on +the steamer and they were just about tuckered out. +They were clingin’ to the rail, their hands blisterin’ +from the flames that were sweepin’ up close to +them even as they touched the water’s edge. +</p> +<p>“It’s an awful thing to see sufferin’ like that,” +he put in. “I won’t ever forget how those fellows +tumbled into our boat. They just rolled in like +dead men. But my rope got caught in the rudder +of the steamer, and I tugged and tugged, but it +looked as if we would have to let her burn off +before we could free ourselves. Just when I decided +to make a big haul at it I came near my end. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +I stood up, gave the rope a yank, and with that—rip! +She let go! And I went with it over into +the water!” +</p> +<p>“Goodness!” Cora exclaimed. “It was bad +enough to have to rescue the other men, but for +you to go into that roaring ocean!” +</p> +<p>“It was bad, Miss,” agreed the narrator. “And +the feel of that water as I struck it! It was like +a bath of sword-points. Well, that’s where the +oar comes in! Bless the bit of wood it was cut +from, it sure was a good, strong stick. +</p> +<p>“When I flopped into the water, like a fish +dumped out of a net, your grandpop, Freddie, +took nary a chance at reachin’ me with the rope. +He dropped the regular oars and took one of the +pair he called lucky. +</p> +<p>“‘Here,’ he yelled, ‘grab to that!’ +</p> +<p>“I can see the red flash now as it nearly hit +me on the head, but though I did make a stab at +it the water was that cold and the ice so thick on +me hands that I couldn’t hold on. +</p> +<p>“It’s pretty bad to be floppin’ around like that, +I can tell you. But Len kept shoutin’ and when +one of the other fellows got enough breath to +stand up with, he took a hand at the rescuin’. +</p> +<p>“It was him who dropped the mate to that oar +overboard. Mad! I could hear Len yell through +the thick of it all. But he held the last red oar. +</p> +<p>“With the effort to keep up me blood heated +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +some, and the next time I saw the flash of red I +grabbed it good an’ proper. It took three of +them to haul me up, but I clung to the red oar and +that’s how I’m here this minute. Likewise, it’s +why the oar is here with me.” +</p> +<p>There was a long pause. The girls had been +thrilled with the simple recital, so void of anything +like conceit in the part that Denny himself had +played in the work of rescue. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='V_TWO_MEN' id='V_TWO_MEN'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>TWO MEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>“And the red oar won out,” Cora remarked, +looking at the old relic with something akin to +reverence. “Perhaps, after all, there is something +in luck.” +</p> +<p>“Looked like it,” agreed Denny. “And after +we got back Len couldn’t pay any attention to +the half-frozen men, or to me, that had been +pretty well chilled—all he could do was talk about +the luck of that oar.” +</p> +<p>“I don’t blame him,” Freda put in. “Your +rope had nearly burned, your light oar broke, one +of the heavy pair went overboard and this one did +most of the work getting back, I suppose.” +</p> +<p>“Right,” said Denny, “for while we had +another pair to work with, they were slim, and +weak, but that fellow, it sure was tough then; but +lately when I take it down it seems to have shrunk, +for it’s gettin’ lighter, somehow.” +</p> +<p>“And how did you come to get it?” asked Cora. +</p> +<p>“That’s the end of my story,” said Denny. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +“When Len was taken very sick, of course I used +to stay with me friend as much as I could.” +</p> +<p>Freda unconsciously pushed her chair nearer +the old man. Surely to hear of the last days of +her good grandfather’s life was a matter too important +to pass over lightly. +</p> +<p>“Your father was livin’ then, Freddie,” Denny +went on, “and a fine healthy young man, too.” +</p> +<p>“Father died so suddenly,” said Freda, +“mother hardly ever speaks of his death. She +always seems overcome after talking of it.” +</p> +<p>“That was a sad thing,” Denny digressed. +“To go off in the morning, a-whistlin’ and happy, +and to be brought home without a word in him. +Freddie, dear, I oughtn’t to talk of it.” +</p> +<p>Freda brushed aside a tear. Her father’s +death had been caused by apoplexy, when she was +but a mite of a child. +</p> +<p>“But the queer part of it was that your grandfather +seemed to think I would outlive his son, +and John such a strappin’-lookin’ fellow,” resumed +Denny. “Len called me to him, and him sick and +miserable, and he says: ‘Denny, John’s not as +strong as he looks, and I want you to do all you +can to help Louisa,’ (your mother of course, +Freddie), ‘for she has the child to raise,’ he said. +Well, he wouldn’t let me interrupt him when I +tried to speak of John. He would have it that I +should keep an eye to things. Your grandfather +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +Lewis left me no papers, however—I supposed +John had them—but he left me the old red oar. +He had fairly been playin’ with it for years, always +polishin’ it or shapin’ it off here or there. I often +look at the marks of his knife on it, and wonder +why he seemed fond of it.” +</p> +<p>“I am sure,” said Freda, earnestly, “you have +kept your promise, Uncle Denny. Mother often +speaks of how good you were when I was small. +Father never had any papers about grandfather’s +land; all he had related to family keepsakes. The +strange part of it all is to me that a man of +grandfather’s intelligence should be so remiss +about his property claims.” +</p> +<p>“But, Freddie, you don’t understand. There +seemed no need for deeds and mortgage papers +then about here. Everybody knew everyone else, +and things seemed to be solid forever. But now +them plagued land fellows—well, they’ve got a +good cheek, is all I can say.” And he emptied +an unsmoked pipe of tobacco in his indignation. +</p> +<p>“But we are going to get after them,” Cora +declared. “We want to go slowly, and, if possible, +find out what their intentions are. Find +what sort of company they claim to have, in the +first place, and if they are an honorable set of men +they ought to make open claims, instead of sneaking +around, and trying to find out things that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +might cause a flaw in the title. I am suspicious, +for one,” she finished significantly. +</p> +<p>“Well, good luck to your spunk,” said Denny, +“and I never knew the like of it to fail. But say, +tell me about the boat. What did the lads think +of the fixin’s?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, it was the greatest fun,” Freda replied. +“They could not imagine how we ever thought of +using the cylinder water for a dishwater supply. +I never gave it away that you suggested it to +Cora’s mechanic.” +</p> +<p>“And I want to thank you, Mr. Shane——” +</p> +<p>“Mr. Shane!” Denny interrupted. “Say, if you +call me that I’ll think I’m reading me own death +notice in the <i>Beacon</i>.” +</p> +<p>Cora laughed at this, and agreed he should be +“Uncle Denny” to her as well as to the others +of the neighborhood. +</p> +<p>“But it was splendid of you to have the boat +all ready for us when we came. I did not suppose +Freda had a chance to get down to it before we +loomed up.” +</p> +<p>“You don’t know the risin’ hour for us folks +at the Bay,” returned Denny, with a sly wink. +“Freddie couldn’t stay abed when the sun is beckonin’ +on the waves; could you, Freddie?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, the early Summer mornings are beautiful,” +replied Freda, “and I am sorry I had to lose +so many of them. Who’s that? The girls, looking +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +for us! There’s Bess puffing, and Belle—fluffing. +I do think they are the most attractive +pair.” +</p> +<p>Cora smiled, for her own devotion to the Robinson +twins was only paralleled by the twins’ devotion +to Cora. +</p> +<p>“Cora! Freda!” called youthful voices from +the path. “Where are you?” +</p> +<p>“Come in—do!” answered Denny, who always +had a spare chair for visitors. +</p> +<p>“Oh, we can’t,” replied Belle. “Cora, the boys +are threatening to take out the <i>Chelton</i>. And oh! +I’m completely out of breath. It’s dreadful to try +to hurry through the sand.” +</p> +<p>“Indeed they shall not take the <i>Chelton</i> out +without my permission,” Cora declared. “When +we make our initial trip I intend to command it. +For one thing, Uncle Denny is to come along; for +another—well, that’s to be a little surprise. This +afternoon at two exactly—will you come, Uncle +Denny?” +</p> +<p>“I will that,” the old sailor replied. “I think +it would be a good thing to have a little weight, +like my old head, in her when she starts out. Them +laddies are always up to pranks.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, we are just crazy to get out on the water,” +Bess put in, “and what do you think? That vain +little Lottie went all the way to town to get the +exact nautical cap. I wonder if she thinks folks +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +in motor boats run slowly enough to see little +white caps on little light girls?” +</p> +<p>“When we get going I think all that will be +seen will be splash, and all that will be heard will +be chug,” Cora remarked. “But come on. Let’s +hurry along. I promised Rita to help her with +something.” +</p> +<p>“What?” asked Bess, curiously. +</p> +<p>“Now, Bessie, that would be telling,” replied +Cora, stopping just long enough to empty the sand +from her tennis shoe. Denny was trudging along +after them—he could not resist an excuse to go +down to the shore. +</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll say good-bye,” said Freda. “I have +to run back to mother. She will think I am lost.” +</p> +<p>“But you are coming this afternoon?” Cora +insisted. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I really can’t, Cora, thank you,” answered +the other. “I have something so important to +look after.” +</p> +<p>“What are you girls up to?” demanded Belle. +“You have been acting mysteriously ever since you +met on the train. Freda, it is really unpardonable +not to take the initial trip with us, but if you really +cannot——” +</p> +<p>“I really cannot,” returned Freda, decisively, +and somehow the girls realized that Freda’s business +was urgent. +</p> +<p>“Now, I’ll show you a short cut,” said Denny. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +“Take that path there—don’t be afraid of the +sign that the owner put up—he has no right to +the beach front; then when you get to the Lonely +Willow—do you know where that is?” +</p> +<p>Not one of them knew, but they were anxious to +find out. +</p> +<p>“You can’t miss the Lonely Willow, for it +stands all alone and looks as forlorn as the mast +of a sunken steamer,” said Denny. “It’s in the +deep hollow by the watercress patch. Turn around +that tree to your left and you’ll see another path. +But wait a minute,” he broke off, “maybe it’s a +bit lonely.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, there are enough of us to shout if we +see bears,” Cora laughed. “We have to hurry, +and we will be glad to explore.” +</p> +<p>“Well, good-bye then, and good luck. I’ll be +at the dock ahead of you.” +</p> +<p>“Isn’t he the quaintest old man?” asked Belle +as the little party hurried along. Then she added: +“You and Freda made quite a visit. We began +to think you were kidnapped.” +</p> +<p>“We did make a stay,” agreed Cora, “but +Denny is a very old friend of Freda’s family, and, +to tell you the truth, we could hardly break away +when he started in to tell sea-yarns. Ouch! The +mud is deep. I guess we must be near the Lonely +Willow.” +</p> +<p>“There it is!” exclaimed Belle, who was somewhat +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +in advance of the others. “Indeed, it does +stand all alone.” +</p> +<p>“Isn’t it scary here!” whispered Bess. “See +those two men under the Willow.” +</p> +<p>All eyes were turned to the big tree. Two men +were seated on a branch that made a comfortable +seat. As the girls approached one of the men +wrapped some papers up and thrust them into his +pocket. But the movement was not lost on the +girls. +</p> +<p>No word was spoken for a few moments. Belle +dropped back a little as if to allow the others to +face the strangers first. Of course Cora, always +being the leader, boldly made her way along. +</p> +<p>They had to pass almost under the tree to reach +the path, but there was no halting once the girls +started out. +</p> +<p>Finally they had passed in perfect safety, but +as they were almost out of earshot one of the men +said: +</p> +<p>“I thought she’d be with him—that old +Denny!” +</p> +<p>The rest of the remark was lost, but this fragment +served to put Cora on her guard. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VI_THE__CHELTON' id='VI_THE__CHELTON'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE “CHELTON”</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, isn’t it exciting?” cried Marita, who had +managed to have Jack help her over the dunes on +the way to the dock. +</p> +<p>“You’re right!” replied Jack, surveying her +“nautical” outfit. “Couldn’t beat it.” +</p> +<p>“Silly! I mean going for the cruise.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I thought you meant that rig you’re wearing. +It is most becoming, but I hope it won’t get +wet.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, the water won’t hurt it. I got it on that +account. I think the girls’ maroon sweaters look +dandy—they can be seen for such a distance.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, I suppose togs have something to do with +a good time, although I must say Cora doesn’t +seem to give much time to hers. Look at Marita +in white. She looks like a French doll.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, she is the cutest thing!” replied Lottie, +in her gushing way. “But Cora is simply stunning! +Just see how she stands out in the crowd.” +</p> +<p>Lottie and Jack strolled through the moss-padded +path that led to the white sands of Tangle +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +Turn, talking in this vein as they went. It was indeed +a merry crowd, and well worth noticing, as +was evinced by the number of curious spectators +already assembled on the dock to which the <i>Chelton</i> +was tied. +</p> +<p>“Who’s the man?” asked Jack, espying a striking +figure in the throng. +</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s Uncle Denny; don’t you know him? +He is the dearest——” +</p> +<p>“Now, Lottie, I can see his bald head under +his cap at this distance without marine glasses, and +it’s a rule of the club that ‘dears’ have special +advantages in the matter of healthy heads of hair. +But, of course, if you wish to call him ‘dear’——” +</p> +<p>“Jack, you are the greatest tease,” she pouted. +</p> +<p>Bess, Belle and Cora had already reached the +motor boat. Denny was proudly “looking her +over,” pipe in mouth and hands in pockets. The +girls were bustling about, all enthusiasm, while the +boys, assuming an air of importance, found many +points to investigate. +</p> +<p>“Now take seats,” called Cora, “we are ready +to push off. Lottie, don’t lean overboard.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I am watching the cutest little fish. See, +Bess,” she exclaimed. +</p> +<p>Ed was on the dock with the rope loose from +the cleat. Cora was at the steering wheel, while +Denny insisted on turning the fly wheel, as that +seemed about the most difficult thing to do. The +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +gasoline was turned on, Jack attending to that, and +as Denny gave the fly wheel a vigorous turn, Ed +pushed off and jumped into the boat. The “push” +sent the <i>Chelton</i> out in the water, but the motor +failed to do its duty. Again Denny tried, but still +no response. As this is not unusual with any +motor, whether new or old, all hands waited +patiently. +</p> +<p>“Oh, there’s the <i>Dixie</i>!” called Lottie, jumping +up and waving to an approaching boat. +</p> +<p>At that instant the <i>Chelton</i> started with a jerk, +and there was a chorus of screams. +</p> +<p>“Lottie’s overboard!” cried the girls. +</p> +<p>“Overboard!” repeated the boys. +</p> +<p>“Quick!” begged Cora. “She may sink!” +</p> +<p>To bring the boat to a sudden stop was not an +easy matter, and there were some moments of +suspense before the <i>Chelton</i> passed safely to the +other side of the spot where Lottie was struggling. +</p> +<p>The water was not so deep but that she was able +to scramble to her feet, but the wash of the boat +forced her to work violently to keep her head +above water. +</p> +<p>“The rope!” called Cora, who had dashed +from her position at the steering wheel to the side +of the boat where the mooring rope had been +dropped. In the excitement, of course, all crowded +to one side of the small craft, which caused it to +careen alarmingly. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></p> +<p>“There! There!” shouted Ed. “Lottie, grab +the rope!” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I can’t,” came the rather weak and shaky +reply. “I can’t reach it.” +</p> +<p>By this time the <i>Dixie</i>, the innocent cause of the +accident, was alongside. Drayton Ward, the +wealthy young fellow who could boast of a motor +boat that would have aroused comment even at +Newport, leaned over the side and grasped the +arm of the girl in the water. The rest was a +simple matter, for soon Lottie was assisted over +the rail of the <i>Dixie</i>, and was in the finest boat on +Crystal Bay. +</p> +<p>“What do you think of that?” gasped Bess into +Cora’s ear. +</p> +<p>“Clever!” replied Cora, simply. +</p> +<p>“But the togs?” queried Jack, to whom the +accident had seemed something of a joke. +</p> +<p>“What a pity,” returned Belle, “and she did +look so sweet!” +</p> +<p>All this time the drenched girl was being most +carefully looked after by the gallant captain of the +<i>Dixie</i>. He was seeing to it that she did not suffer +from a chill, for a big coat had been wrapped +around her and her pretty white cap that had +merrily floated off was now replaced by one +marked “Dixie.” Altogether, for a mere Summer +dip, Lottie was having a magnificent time, as Ed +took pains to observe. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span></p> +<p>“Oh, I can’t go with you now!” called Lottie. +“Mr. Ward has kindly offered to take me home.” +</p> +<p>There was a pause after that remark. If Lottie +went back to the bungalow it seemed only reasonable +that someone should go with her. But who? +Everyone wanted to take the trip on the <i>Chelton</i>. +</p> +<p>“Let us take you up to the point,” called Cora, +“and we can wait for you to change and come +back. Our trip would be spoiled with one of the +party missing.” +</p> +<p>“Let’s shift,” suggested Drayton, with a +gracious smile at Cora. “Mine is probably the +faster boat. You get in here with us, Miss Cora, +and we will run up and down the bay while your +friends are working off the oil smoke. That’s a +neat little boat you have, a perfect little model,” +he finished, coming as close as possible to the +<i>Chelton</i>. +</p> +<p>“Yours is all right, too, Dray,” replied Jack, +“but it looks too good to be true. Doesn’t shoot +up on land for a change, does it? I have heard +of <i>Dixies</i> doing that stunt.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Lottie. “I am freezing +to death. I guess I’ll go change my dress.” +</p> +<p>“Good idea,” agreed Cora, who was ready to +leave her boat and go back to the bungalow with +Lottie. “Come on,” and she jumped to the dock +to which her boat had drifted. “I’ll run along +with you.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></p> +<p>“Nice way to treat a fellow,” complained Drayton. +“Well, fellows, I’ll race you while we are +waiting for the ladies to return. What do you +say, Jack?” +</p> +<p>“I’m willing, as long as Cora has finally condescended +to let me touch the wheel. Everybody +sit down this time.” +</p> +<p>Without a word all hands, keen for a race as +soon as one was suggested, took seats, and the two +boats veered out into the bay and “lined up” for +the start. Denny was the proudest engineer +imaginable, and constantly looked over the fine +mechanism. +</p> +<p>“Ready!” shouted Ed, and at the word both +throttles were thrown wide open and the boats +shot up the bay, emitting clouds of smoke from +their newly oiled works, and “chugging” so rapidly +that the sounds were drowned in a roar. It was +a pretty sight, for in the girls’ boat a line of +colored sweaters and waving caps lent life to the +gray of the waters, while Drayton, in his glistening, +highly-polished <i>Dixie</i>, only needed the glint +that the sun lent to complete the picture afforded +by his fine craft. +</p> +<p>“Oh, isn’t this glorious!” exclaimed Marita. +“I thought I should be frightened, but this is—lovely.” +</p> +<p>“Frightened!” repeated Belle. “I used to be +so afraid of the water I couldn’t see anything but +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +the bottom every time I came out; but now I just +love it.” +</p> +<p>“Hey there, Dray!” shouted Ed. “You’re out +of the course. Get in from shore!” +</p> +<p>“He’s keeping his eye on those girls on the +beach,” laughed Walter. “Those are the lassies +who have the white canoe.” So saying he waved +his own cap and a flutter of handkerchiefs from +the beach came back in recognition. +</p> +<p>“Turn at the island,” ordered Denny. +</p> +<p>Here a white flag fluttered, the stake left from +some recent sailing races. Gracefully the <i>Chelton</i> +rounded the stake first. Drayton had lost time in +running too close to shore. Only a minute later +the <i>Dixie</i> swayed after the <i>Chelton</i>, then the final +stretch was taken up in earnest. Spectators on the +bank might wave now, but the motorists had no +eyes for them. A slight miss in the <i>Chelton’s</i> explosion +brought Denny and Ed to their feet—there +should be no break in the rhythm of that chug. +</p> +<p>“She’s all right,” Ed called to the old sailor, +“only too much oil.” +</p> +<p>Denny shook his head lest a word might interfere +with the boat’s motion. Dray stood up +and did something that caused the bow of his boat +to shoot up, while the stern seemed to bury itself +in the waves. +</p> +<p>“His is a racer,” Walter told Bess, who was as +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +intent as any of the watchers on the result of the +trial of speed. +</p> +<p>“Maybe ours will turn out to be a winner,” +Bess responded. “We keep pretty close.” +</p> +<p>Jack never took his hand off the steering wheel, +Denny was watching the engine, and the others +were peering down the straight course ahead. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m getting all wet,” exclaimed Marita, +for the spray was dashing in on all sides. +</p> +<p>“Get down in the bottom,” advised Walter, +“we can’t slacken up now. Or go in the cabin if +you like and close the ports.” +</p> +<p>This was a signal for all three girls to slip down +to the floor of the boat and while they lost the +good view afforded from the seats, they evidently +enjoyed the change, and craned their necks to see +over the sides. +</p> +<p>“Of course Dray will win,” complained Belle. +“We couldn’t expect to beat the <i>Dixie</i>.” +</p> +<p>“We might,” encouraged Bess. “Cora said +this boat had remarkable speed for its size.” +</p> +<p>“Gee, whiz!” shouted Walter, “look at that +spray deluge Dray!” +</p> +<p>“And she’s missing,” added Ed, for the sounds +from the <i>Dixie</i> were distinctly out of time. +</p> +<p>Suddenly Dray’s boat slowed down, and the +<i>Chelton</i> shot so far ahead that it was plain something +had happened to the <i>Dixie</i>. +</p> +<p>Jack stood up and looked back. “Something +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +is wrong,” he said. “We had better not get too +far ahead. Dray is fussing with the carbureter.” +</p> +<p>The race was over. The girls stood up from +their hiding place and Jack turned the boat about. +By this time Dray had turned off the gasoline and +the <i>Dixie</i> merely heaved up and down on the +swells. +</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Dray?” called Walter. +“Something given way?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” answered Dray, “she simply +won’t ‘mote.’” +</p> +<p>“Let me take a look at her,” suggested Denny, +ever eager for a new adventure. +</p> +<p>“Oh, there are Cora and Lottie!” exclaimed +Belle. “Can’t we go in for them, and look after +Dray’s boat afterward?” +</p> +<p>“That would be a nice way to treat a ship in +distress,” said Denny, “but excuse me,” and he +showed regret at his remark. “I shouldn’t be +thinkin’ of a lad when the young girls are needin’ +help.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, the girls are all right,” Jack assured the +old seaman; “but say, Dray,” he called, “what’s +the matter, anyhow?” +</p> +<p>“Just give me a line and tow me in, then we will +hold a post mortem,” replied Dray, good humoredly. +“I don’t fancy taking her apart out here.” +</p> +<p>“Good!” exclaimed Marita, “then we can go +for Cora and Lottie.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span></p> +<p>Promptly the brand new rope of the <i>Chelton</i> +was tossed to the disabled boat and fastened, then +the two boats started for shore. +</p> +<p>Cora and Lottie were waiting. The latter had +shed her wet “garments of vanity,” as Belle described +them, for a simple brown linen frock. +</p> +<p>“What happened?” called Cora, as the boats +neared shore. +</p> +<p>“Mis-happened,” answered Dray. “It was +just fate. We couldn’t expect to beat the motor +girls.” +</p> +<p>“Nice of you,” acknowledged Cora, “but I am +sorry if there is anything wrong with your beautiful +boat.” +</p> +<p>“It’s the boat and not the boy,” remarked Ed. +“Well, we’ll do as much for you some day, Cora. +Wait until we get our little <i>Lassie</i> out. She, +being a mere girl, may have a show.” +</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Lottie?” asked Bess, as +they landed and the girls noted that Lottie was +remarkably quiet, and even a trifle pale. +</p> +<p>“Not a thing,” Cora hurriedly answered, while +she crushed her fingers on Lottie’s arm. “We +were detained at the bungalow, that’s all. We’ll +tell you all about it later on.” +</p> +<p>The girls gathered around Cora and Lottie at +this remark. But Cora, by some mysterious signal +system, had warned Lottie not to say anything, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +and she soon joined the boys, who had already +boarded the <i>Dixie</i> to overhaul her. +</p> +<p>They looked at the engine, at the spark plugs, +at the cylinder, but Cora, who happened to have +more room at the point where the carbureter was +situated, suddenly exclaimed: +</p> +<p>“I’ve got it! Water in the carbureter!” +</p> +<p>“Right-o!” confirmed Dray, in another moment. +“The spray mixed with the gas—dashed +over into the air in-take valve. Moral, go slow, +for water sometimes is fatal, even in a good +cause!” +</p> +<p>“Shame to spoil the race,” said Ed; “we were +just warming up.” +</p> +<p>“It’s all right,” commented Denny, “and a +good lesson. I never knew myself that too much +speed would do the like of that. Well, I must be +off doin’ some chores. I’ve been a-galavantin’ +most of the day, and the fishes of Crystal Bay are +not educated to come up to me door yet. Thank +you for the sport. It was fine,” he concluded, +genially. +</p> +<p>“Indeed you must come along again,” Cora +urged. “This was only a baby-trial. We will +want to be going out on the deep soon; then you +must come along.” +</p> +<p>“Thank you, very kindly,” Denny called, as he +started off. “The deep is a bad place for young +’uns, I can tell you. Better stick around shore.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></p> +<p>“Tell us what is the matter, Lottie,” demanded +Bess, for Lottie had not yet recovered her self-possession. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I guess I had a chill,” she evaded, glancing +at Cora. +</p> +<p>“And the mere sight of a couple of strange men +startled her,” Cora added. “I have warned her +there may be lots of strange men around Crystal +Bay.” +</p> +<p>“But not the same strange men every time,” +Lottie put in. This gave a clue to her fright. The +men who had secluded themselves under the +Lonely Willow that morning had appeared again, +this time in the vicinity of the girls’ bungalow, now +known as the “Motely Mote.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VII_IN_THE_MOTELY_MOTE' id='VII_IN_THE_MOTELY_MOTE'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>IN THE MOTELY MOTE</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Do you young ladies realize that we have the +cares of housekeeping on our shoulders?” asked +Cora, from a mass of boxes and bags, not to mention +trunks, in the alleged living room of the +Mote. +</p> +<p>“Oh, let us forget it—do,” begged Bess. “I +always hate the summertime when it brings dishes +and things.” +</p> +<p>“It’s good for you,” affirmed Marita. Bess +did know that hard work is considered “good” +for stout persons. +</p> +<p>“Maybe, but it is not pleasant,” Bess answered, +flinging herself upon the improvised couch, a matter +of hammocks and blankets, still bearing baggage +checks and tie-ropes. +</p> +<p>“But our housekeeper has given notice,” announced +Cora. “And I don’t wonder. Not one +has been on time for a single meal since we arrived. +But I must say, I wish she had stayed until +the stuff was all unpacked. It’s dreadful on the +hands,” and she looked at hers ruefully. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span></p> +<p>“Why not ask the boys to help?” asked Lottie, +who was doing her best to press her damp +clothes by stretching the most important of them +over Belle’s trunk, and holding them there with +two suitcases. “If I had not gotten these things +wet I should have been glad to unpack, but if I +leave them this way over night I shall never be +able to wear them again.” +</p> +<p>“If you knew the boys as well as we do,” +Bess put in, “you would know what their help +means. They would insist upon trying on every +article of clothing they unpacked; wouldn’t they +Cora?” +</p> +<p>“Something like that, Bess, if they did unpack +at all. But, seriously, if you will give me a little +help to drag these empty trunks to the porch, I +will tell you of a plan I have evolved. Of course +we cannot remain this way without a chaperone.” +</p> +<p>“Isn’t it perfectly silly?” complained Belle. +“As if we were not all capable of taking care of +ourselves.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know about that,” objected Cora. +“I have noticed that in case of emergency, when +some strange man happens to poke his nose in at +the window, we are all rather glad to acknowledge +we are mere babes.” +</p> +<p>“And also when we meet them under willow +trees,” Marita reminded the boastful ones. “I +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +am sure I agree with Cora that we need a chaperone, +and perhaps a policeman or two.” +</p> +<p>The girls paused in dragging the baggage toward +the front door. +</p> +<p>“Just the same,” Marita went on, “Lottie was +frightened to-day and she only heard a strange +man say, ‘They call them the motor girls.’ As +if that was anything terrifying.” +</p> +<p>“But it was the way they said it,” Lottie protested. +“They just peered at us—and——” +</p> +<p>“Now, Lottie,” said Cora, “you have an idea +that everyone who looks at us ‘peers’ at us. For +my part I was rather flattered by their attention. +You see the fame of the motor girls is spreading. +But let me now make my proposition,” and she +settled down on the rug that was intended to cover +the floor—some time. +</p> +<p>“Let her ‘prop’!” cried Belle. +</p> +<p>“Well, you know our little friend, Freda, has +lost some property; that is, her mother and herself +have lost a certain claim to it. This little +colony around here is fairly bristling with the prosperity +implanted in it by such thrifty men as was +Freda’s grandfather, but in spite of that, strangers +come in, make a big fuss about riparian rights, +and government laws, and property claims and, +in so doing, pretend to discover a flaw in a title +that for years has been considered perfectly clear.” +She paused, for Bess had opened her mouth twice, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +and this time Cora wanted to hear what she had +to say. +</p> +<p>“We heard some women talking about that to-day,” +said Bess, “and they said it was a shame to +take a homestead from Mrs. Lewis. They were +not whispering their opinions, either.” +</p> +<p>“So it is a shame,” Cora said, “and if we can, +in any way, help to get the truth established, we +will surely have a good reason to remember this +holiday.” +</p> +<p>“How?” queried Marita. “We don’t understand +anything about land, and deeds, and lawyers.” +</p> +<p>At this everyone but Marita laughed. She was +not acquainted with the daring deeds of the motor +girls, as that was what they had undertaken and +accomplished in the past. +</p> +<p>“You see, Marita dear,” Cora explained, “because +we seem such harmless babies we are able +to get information that others, considered more +dangerous, might not have access to. Now, let +me continue. There are men around here, members +of some sort of a land company, who are +trying to get hold of certain papers. We don’t +know whether they exist or not, but in our own +quiet, girlish way——” +</p> +<p>Here she was interrupted with a burst of mocking +laughter. “Your quiet girlish way,” repeated +Belle. “Why, Cora, I do believe if you thought +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +you could get the better of that land company +you would take the <i>Chelton</i>, and go—pirating! +Wouldn’t it be great to go out on a dark night, +steam up the bay, watch for other boats, listen to +the smugglers——” +</p> +<p>“Oh, Belle,” put in Lottie, “that’s not the way +in books. We would have to go out and get kidnapped, +and then, when in the cave, we would +hear the plot of the men who were going to steal +the old homestead.” +</p> +<p>“Hurrah!” cried her hearers. +</p> +<p>“Lottie for captain of the kidnapped,” suggested +Cora. “Now, Lottie, when it gets good +and dark you are to go out under the biggest tree +on the place and await your captors.” +</p> +<p>“Hello there! Anybody home?” +</p> +<p>“The boys!” gasped Belle. “Now what about +having wasted our time? Come in!” +</p> +<p>“Nice of you to ask us,” groaned Jack. “Say, +we are dead and buried, and the will is now being +read. Somebody broke into our larder and stole +the grub. Have you any to put out at interest?” +</p> +<p>“Stole your eatables!” exclaimed Marita. +</p> +<p>“Well, you could scarcely call it that,” replied +Jack, espying an undamaged orange on the window +sill, and making a lunge for it. “We did +intend to eat the stuff, but it was just plain grub—not +eatables.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></p> +<p>“Jack, haven’t you boys had your supper?” +asked Cora. +</p> +<p>“We are on a diet,” explained Jack. “Wallie +had the crackers, Ed nabbed the dried beef—he’s +the biggest and needs the most, you know—and I +got the pickles. Then we followed directions, and +each drank three sips of pure spring water. But +the trouble arose when Dray came in. He said +he was to have milk—doctor’s orders. We didn’t +have any but ‘pretense’ milk, so Dray is now out +looking for a cow.” +</p> +<p>Just then the sound of approaching footsteps +was heard. +</p> +<p>“They come!” announced Jack. “I was +merely the herald. Have you made out the menu, +Cora dear?” +</p> +<p>“Do you mean to say we have to feed—all you +boys?” demanded Bess. +</p> +<p>“Feed us? No, we can eat with spoons. Just +lead us to the eats. Really, it is serious with +Dray. He has already gone dead white. Come +in, fellows. We are expecting you. The girls +are just getting out the best linen!” +</p> +<p>Dray, Walter and Ed entered, and like Jack, +showed signs of starvation. They literally fell +into the most convenient spot available as they +reached the room. +</p> +<p>“Good evening, ladies,” panted Dray. “We +are delighted to accept your kind invitation to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +dine with you. Pray pardon the togs. I feel like +a regular ‘toff,’ don’t you know, but my studs are +for the moment lost. And what is a frock without +the studs!” +</p> +<p>“Well, if this isn’t the very utmost,” said Cora, +laughing at the boys’ predicament. “Do you mean +to say that you are really hungry?” +</p> +<p>“Shall we demonstrate?” asked Ed. “Do you +allow us? Belle, get out the chronometer and a +hunk of something. If you don’t soon you will +have a case of homicide on your hands.” +</p> +<p>Finally believing that the boys were hungry, +the girls proceeded to empty the ice box on the +back porch. They did not find any too much food +there, for the sudden departure of their housekeeper +that afternoon had left the girls themselves +almost stranded. But, being girls, they managed +the living end a little better than the boys did. +</p> +<p>The boys, it seemed, had laid in a stock of +canned stuff, in the usual hit-and-miss way, but +some other campers found the “cave” where the +food had been hidden. It was out of the question +either to take or get ice, so the next best thing +considered was the digging of a big hole in a very +damp place. Into this the boys had sunk a nice, +clean, galvanized tub, and in it the victuals had +been placed. On top was a cover, made of boards +and oil cloth, and over this was placed the limb +from a tree, this last to detract attention. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></p> +<p>“Now, wouldn’t you think,” said Jack, as he +fortified himself with a sandwich, “that any decent +chap would know that we belonged to the +union? We are going to form a housewives’ +league at dawn to-morrow, and then we will find +the culprits. They will be offering us our own +grub at exorbitant rates.” +</p> +<p>“Bright little Jackie,” commented Bess, who +was devouring cheese and macaroons. “When +you find the culprits you will have a perfectly good +movie act in your camp. It will be entitled ‘The +Fate of the Kid Grubber.’” +</p> +<p>While the boys were thus engaged in the delightful +task of keeping off starvation, the girls +were anxious to hear what was the proposition +Cora had offered to lay before them. +</p> +<p>“That’s just the way,” grumbled Belle; “we +never can get at the interesting things!” +</p> +<p>“I am going to tell the boys this minute,” +threatened Marita. “We notice, Belle, that you +brought out that lemon pie that was hidden. +Looks as if you found the boys rather interesting.” +</p> +<p>“Now you know exactly what I mean,” insisted +Belle. “Cora said we had to have a chaperone +and we all agreed. Instead, we have a crowd of +noisy boys.” +</p> +<p>“When you boys have finished,” Cora remarked, +“we would like to clear up the debris. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +Also, we have a sad announcement to make. We +have lost our housekeeper!” +</p> +<p>“Good!” almost shouted Ed. “I apply at +once. I can give every qualification, even to a +civil service examination. Cora, I never tasted +such food before——” +</p> +<p>“Mutiny!” yelled Jack, making a spring at +Ed, which ended in such a mixup that the girls +fled to the kitchen. +</p> +<p>“We really cannot stay alone here to-night,” +Cora said. +</p> +<p>But the boys had come to their feet again, and +evidently to terms. Jack was hugging Walter and +Dray was smoothing Ed’s black hair. +</p> +<p>“Will the boys go and leave us?” asked the +timid Marita. +</p> +<p>“Of course they will, and that right now,” declared +Cora. “We have no time to spare to get +someone else to stay with us, however. Bess, do +you want to come with me? I am going out for +our new companion.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VIII_FRIGHTS_OR_FANCIES' id='VIII_FRIGHTS_OR_FANCIES'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>FRIGHTS OR FANCIES</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, do hurry,” pleaded Cora. “I had no +idea it was so late. And it is awfully dark.” +</p> +<p>“A nice way to scare me when you have got +me out,” objected Bess. “Cora Kimball, I have +a great mind to run back. I never saw lights look +so attractive as they do just now in the Mote.” +</p> +<p>“Run back if you like,” returned Cora, “but I +will run on. It was unfortunate that the boys +came in just as they did. I really have a good +reason for not wanting to stay alone to-night.” +</p> +<p>“You have?” asked Bess. “I knew you and +Lottie had had some adventure.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t be silly, Bess,” and Cora laughed +lightly. “Everything is perfectly safe and sane +at the bay, but what I want is to get over to the +little cottage where Freda and her mother are +living before they retire. It is Mrs. Lewis I hope +to get as our housekeeper.” +</p> +<p>“Mrs. Lewis!” exclaimed Bess in surprise. +</p> +<p>“Yes, but we won’t call her housekeeper. I +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +haven’t thought it all out yet; in fact, I am not +sure they will come, but I hope so.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, so do I; that would be fine,” and Bess +almost forgot how black the night was. “I met +Mrs. Lewis the day we came, and I could not help +thinking what a fine, wholesome mother Freda +had.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, I have been talking to her and I think +she is just that—fine and wholesome. And goodness +knows,” added Cora fervently, “we need some +weight at the Mote. But they may not consent. +I happened to overhear a remark this afternoon +that set me to thinking. I am afraid poor Freda +and her mother are in for further trouble.” +</p> +<p>They hurried along, making their way with difficulty +in the deep sand that covered road and path +alike. Once or twice they paused, startled at the +sound of men’s voices, then hurried the more to +make up for lost time. +</p> +<p>“Why didn’t we have one of the boys come +with us?” asked Bess. +</p> +<p>“Because I am not ready yet to have the boys +know all our plans, and to trust one of them—Bess +Robinson, you know our boys. What one +knows the rest can guess.” +</p> +<p>“That’s so,” mused Bess. “Is that the cottage?” +</p> +<p>“Yes, right over there,” and Cora indicated a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +light through the trees. “I am glad they are still +up!” +</p> +<p>It was only a few steps further, and this space +was rapidly covered. As the two girls reached +the porch, and before they had a chance to touch +the knocker, the door was opened by Freda. +</p> +<p>“Who is it?” she asked in a frightened voice. +</p> +<p>“Only Cora and Bess,” Cora replied, noting +the fear in Freda’s tone. “Are we too late to +come in?” +</p> +<p>“No, indeed,” Freda replied, reassured. “I +was afraid it might be unwelcome visitors, but you +are heartily welcome.” +</p> +<p>The living room of the cottage was typical of +the seashore—a long apartment, with field-stone +fireplace and fumed fir trim. The stairway led +up from the room and gave it an air of even +greater spaciousness. Altogether it was most attractive. +Mrs. Lewis, a slim, fine-featured woman, +rose from her rocker as the girls entered. +</p> +<p>“It is late to call,” began Cora, “but our business +is really urgent. We have been left all alone +suddenly—our housekeeper says she received a +hurried call to go back to her family in the city. +I don’t question the call, I know how often and +faithfully they follow maids who find a country +place lonely; but the fact is we girls do not fancy +staying alone to-night.” +</p> +<p>“Why, of course not,” replied Mrs. Lewis, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +briskly. “You must have some older person with +you.” +</p> +<p>It was plain, now that the girls had become +accustomed to the lights, that Freda and her +mother had both been crying. Their eyes were +red and their cheeks swollen. Freda saw that the +girls observed this. +</p> +<p>“Yes, we have been weeping,” she said, with +an attempt at a smile. “It seems as though we +have new troubles daily.” +</p> +<p>“I am so sorry,” Cora returned. “I wish we +could help you.” +</p> +<p>“I am sure you have done so,” replied Mrs. +Lewis. “Freda has great hopes that you girls +will do for us what perhaps lawyers might not be +able to do.” She hesitated and Freda went on: +</p> +<p>“Those horrid men from the land company +were here again this afternoon. They say we have +no right even to this little cottage.” +</p> +<p>“No right here!” exclaimed Cora. “I believe +they are just trying to get you to leave the +place so that they can go on with their plans without +being watched.” +</p> +<p>“I never thought of that,” replied Mrs. Lewis, +as though the idea was novel to her. “Then, indeed, +they will have more trouble than brow-beating +to get us to leave Crystal Bay.” +</p> +<p>“I must hurry with my errand,” said Cora. +“I came to see if it would be possible for you and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +Freda to lock up and come over with us to-night. +I am afraid those land sharks have our little place +marked, too, for they have been loitering around +all day. I don’t want to tell the boys. They are +hasty and so apt to resent any intrusion that would +worry us.” +</p> +<p>“Why should the men bother you?” asked +Mrs. Lewis. +</p> +<p>“I suppose because they know that Freda is a +friend of ours,” replied Cora. “But don’t worry +about them bothering us, all we want is to be able +to meet them fairly. Of course if they knew we +were alone at night they might be mean enough to +frighten us, and some of the girls are rather +timid.” +</p> +<p>“Indeed, we will lock up at once,” declared +Mrs. Lewis, “and go right over with you. We +have not many treasures now to be afraid of +losing.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, that is splendid!” Cora cried. Freda immediately +went about fastening the windows and +seeing to the general locking up, while Mrs. Lewis +hurried up stairs to pack a small bag. It seemed +as though they were ready almost instantly, much +to the relief of Bess, who kept wondering if the +boys would remain at the bungalow with the girls +until her own and Cora’s return. +</p> +<p>“Now we are off,” said Mrs. Lewis, looking +back at her home with a wistful sigh. She seemed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +to have a premonition that leaving it meant more +than appeared at the moment. +</p> +<p>Freda walked with Bess while Mrs. Lewis and +Cora kept close behind them. They had not more +than reached the turn that led to the direct path +when shouts and laughter were heard. +</p> +<p>“There are the girls,” Bess exclaimed. “They +are looking for us.” +</p> +<p>The surmise was correct, for directly the answer +came back to the familiar camp call. +</p> +<p>“Here we are!” cried Cora. “On the pine +path.” +</p> +<p>“Oh!” gasped Belle. “We have had the +greatest fright! Where have you been?” +</p> +<p>“Making a call,” replied Cora, calmly. “What +was your fright?” +</p> +<p>“Come along and I’ll tell you,” Belle replied. +Then she saw Freda and Mrs. Lewis. +</p> +<p>“We have brought protectors,” Cora said. +“Mrs. Lewis and Freda are going to spend the +night with us.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, splendid!” exclaimed Marita. “I was +so afraid we would have to stay alone.” +</p> +<p>“Where are the boys?” Cora asked. +</p> +<p>“Someone from the beach came up and said +Dray’s boat was loose, and of course, they had to +all go at once to tie it up.” +</p> +<p>“Better than to let it drift,” Cora said, “but I +am sorry if you were timid.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span></p> +<p>“Oh, we were not,” declared Belle, stoutly. +“Only we distinctly heard someone on the back +porch.” +</p> +<p>“At our ice box!” gasped Cora. +</p> +<p>“Oh, we never thought of that!” exclaimed +Belle. +</p> +<p>“Then likely we will be without breakfast,” +responded Cora. “But here we are. Who has +the key?” +</p> +<p>Belle opened the door. “The light is out!” +she whispered. “Cora,” she said, aside, “I left +it burning!” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IX_A_MERRY_TIME' id='IX_A_MERRY_TIME'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>A MERRY TIME</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Yes, I say it’s a shame!” cried Jack, indignantly. +</p> +<p>“Perfectly awful,” confirmed Dray. +</p> +<p>“Our meeting is at nine,” announced Walter, +“and when I went on the soup shift, I did not +agree to do the waiting. That’s not my part.” +</p> +<p>Ed tucked an end of white mosquito netting +in his belt, draped it jauntily, and appeared ready +to do the “waiting.” Walter was frying bacon +and eggs on the oil stove. Jack threw dishes at +the oilcloth-covered table in imitation of a game +of quoits, and he rarely missed the mark. They +were about to have breakfast, and in spite of the +difficulties encountered in the way of modern improvements +omitted in the arrangement of Camp +Couldn’t (the camp got that name for a million +reasons), the boys were having a fine time. +</p> +<p>“That coffee will be cold,” protested Dray, +“and my doctor says cold coffee is slow poison. +I prefer my poison quick.” The joke about Dray’s +doctor was that Dray never knew a doctor other +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +than the medical inspector at school. He had such +astonishingly good health that they used the idea +of sickness in reference to him as a “counter irritant.” +</p> +<p>“But this stove is a trifle small,” said Walter. +“What do you say we buy that one from Camp +Cattle? It’s a peach.” +</p> +<p>“If the Cattle crowd have a good stove they +won’t sell it,” replied Jack. “You will likely find +a second-hand flue in it, or a rubber hose leader. +Those boys are brilliant. If we need a new stove +let it be from Duke’s, with a cast-iron guarantee.” +</p> +<p>“Right-o,” seconded Dray. “The cast-iron +is always useful about a camp. But I say, what +about the racket at the Mote last night? That +sister of yours, Jack, is wasting her talents. She +ought to be chief of a detective bureau.” +</p> +<p>“Cora is all right,” Jack returned, proudly. +“And while we are on the subject, and not to brag, +of course, I might say that some of the other girls +are in the same class. First few years they came +out to the woods I used to be rather doubtful, but +now we often find that the maids can take care of +the masters; don’t we, Wallie? More of that +odor, please. I wonder why bacon turns all to +odor when it’s cooked up!” +</p> +<p>“There are only two more pieces of odor left,” +complained Walter, “and I’d like the smell myself.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span></p> +<p>“Oh, all right. I have had more than enough.” +Jack waved a disdainful hand loftily. “I believe, +as it is, I should be more careful what I eat.” +</p> +<p>A huge, very hard bun, the sort found only in +bakeries near Summer resorts, hit Jack squarely +in the face. Without any comment he caught it, +cut it in half, and with a tin spoon plastered it with +butter. Then he put “the lid on it,” and tried +to get it between his teeth. It was heroic exercise, +but Jack had been trained at a reputable college, +and had learned to eat what he wanted. +</p> +<p>“But those duffers, the land men,” continued +Dray, “what are they after the girls for? I had +an idea one of them must be trying to claim relationship +with the fair Freda. He kept so close to +her when she was out after Denny.” +</p> +<p>“Relationship!” Jack repeated, with a laugh. +“You almost hit it, Dray. I guess the bear would +like to be her first cousin, for he is trying to get +her goods and chattels from her.” +</p> +<p>“How?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, we must not go into that; at least not just +yet. I promised Cora not to be hasty with Moran. +He’s the ‘gent’ who is supposed to be president +of the company.” +</p> +<p>“The one who wears the Panama? I wonder +if anyone would think of haste in connection with +that duffer. It took him just one hour to buy +three soft crabs from some kids at the dock yesterday,” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +said Walter. “I wouldn’t like to be his +messmate. But I don’t like his eye; it’s made on +the bias.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, always looks as if it were going to slip +out of the socket,” confirmed Jack. “Well, I +hope the girls won’t go in too deep with their +schemes. Those fellows are from little old +N’Yawk.” +</p> +<p>“Quick!” whispered Walter. “There’s that +Black. If he lays eyes on your plates he’ll lick +them.” +</p> +<p>The last morsels of food were crammed into +mouths before the call from the neighboring camper +was answered. +</p> +<p>“Come right in,” Ed said, finally, “and help +yourself. Have you had your grape fruit?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, no,” sighed Tom Black, “I didn’t feel +exactly right this morning.” (He brushed a brown +hand across his brow.) “Nerves, I guess.” +</p> +<p>“Nerves? Grub!” shouted Jack. “Didn’t I +see a can marked ‘soup’ in your back yard this +a. m.?” +</p> +<p>“Might have, but I didn’t. Else I would have +had soup.” +</p> +<p>“There were grubbers around last night,” went +on Jack, “and we thought we found a thread that +matches your sweater, sticking to a nail in our +grub box.” +</p> +<p>“My sweater is not ripped that I can see,” replied +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +Tom, innocently, “but if you are so kind I +might take it. Don’t think we put our sewing +boxes in the kit, come to think of it.” +</p> +<p>“It will be ripped presently,” announced Ed. +“We have reason to suspect the Cattle; in fact, +we have engaged counsel.” +</p> +<p>“The motor girls, I fancy, will defend you,” +said Tom, nonchalantly, “but I assure you, you +will have no case. We are absolutely without +grub; in fact, our case is pitiable.” +</p> +<p>“And you had a ‘Doins’ last night,” Dray reminded +him. “Now, Tom, we want to be fair, +but we have arranged to form a housewives’ +league for the purpose of swiping systematically. +For instance,” (here he got a burnt match and +tried to trace something on the oilcloth), “if we +have company, and no olives, we could go over to +your cupboard, take a bottle and deposit in its +stead, say, a can of beans.” +</p> +<p>“Great!” shouted Tom, tossing up his cap, +that landed on the flaming oil stove. “You should +not waste oil,” he said, as he rescued the cap. +“It’s always wise to turn out the stove when you +take off the pan.” +</p> +<p>“The meeting is to be held in our living room,” +Ed said, pointing outside to a bench made of a +tree limb <i>au naturel</i>. “When we have formed +our committees and settled on our constitution——” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></p> +<p>This last word seemed to give every boy present +a sort of agony, for each began to “feel for his +constitution,” as if that important part of his +physique had been lost in the camp woods. +</p> +<p>“I wish you could settle my constitution,” remarked +Tom. “Once I get that settled, I don’t +care what happens.” +</p> +<p>“Now, quit your fooling,” returned Walter. “I +have an engagement and I would like to get my +housework done. Tom, help yourself to a towel, +and be careful not to wipe the plates on a glass +towel. You can tell the difference by the border. +The dish towel is all border, the center or hole +went up on the oil stove, a little trick our stove +has—it does not like towels. The proper towel +for the glasses is that one with the black line drawn +through the middle. The black line is not important, +it was put there with a single wipe of the +spark plug from the <i>Lassie</i>. Ed did it, very +neatly.” +</p> +<p>Tom took the towel tossed to him, and, as only +a boy can, began to dry the dishes that Walter +was piling in front of him. First he patted and +rubbed the towel on one side of the dish that lay +before him; then he turned the same dish over +with a bang and repeated the patting and rubbing +on the other side. After that he gave the plate +a spin. If it landed right side up he left it so; if +the trade-mark showed he counted it a “foul,” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +and tried the trick again. How boys can get work +done that way is always a mystery to girls, who +find the same play labor. +</p> +<p>“Do I stay for lunch?” Tom asked. “I suppose +when a fellow helps with the general housework +he is entitled to his ‘keep.’” +</p> +<p>“Oh, we would just love to have you,” replied +Jack, with mock seriousness, “but the fact is, we +are all invited out. We lunch on the <i>Chelton</i> to-day,” +and he strutted around with such wide +sweeping curves, and twists, that he knocked from +the narrow board table every last bit of butter +the “Couldn’ts” had in their camp. Gingerly he +scooped up the top lump, that lay on the store +dish, but the scraps had to be scraped up with the +egg turner, and the spot on the floor (they had a +board floor in the camp) had to be washed up +with the dish water, when Walter finally relinquished +that important commodity. +</p> +<p>“More careful next time,” commanded Dray. +“I’m off to call the meeting. Where’s that dinner +bell?” +</p> +<p>The “bell,” a very old and very large tray, +was found outside under the bench, and with a +good strong stick Dray beat it furiously, until it +might easily be heard by every camper on the +grounds. At the first signal boys came scampering +from all directions. Some carried towels—too +much excited to drop them in their camps; +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +others dashed through the woods with sweaters on +their arms, and reluctant neckties in their fists, +for it was early and the campers had scarcely +time to make “careful” toilets. +</p> +<p>“Grub?” they asked in chorus. “Let us see +it? Lead us to it!” +</p> +<p>“Grub nothing!” replied Walter. “You just +get outside on that bench, the overflow can take +the reserved seats on the nice green moss. This +meeting has been called for the purpose of organizing +the Housewives’ League of Crystal Bay.” +</p> +<p>“Aoo-oo-ou—oh!” came a groaning reply +from those who felt able to groan. “And I left +sugar in my coffee cup,” wailed he with the dish +towel. +</p> +<p>“And there were perfectly good crumbs at my +place,” sighed Teddy, a boy with so many colors +in his face that they called him “Rainbow.” +</p> +<p>“Come to order!” called Jack, banging on the +tent table, which was to serve as the chairman’s +desk. “Every camp must qualify.” +</p> +<p>“We do! We do!” shouted the majority, the +rest being engaged in a rough and tumble for +places near the “door.” +</p> +<p>“The purpose of this meeting,” went on Jack, +ducking a lump of moss tossed in lieu of a bouquet, +“is to formulate plans, whereby the humans of +Prowlers’ Paradise may continue to defy the birds +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +of the air, and the beasts of the field, and live in +a perfectly human way.” +</p> +<p>“Hurrah for the humans!” shouted Rainbow, +and the cheers that followed did more than merely +consume time. +</p> +<p>“Let me explain,” interrupted Dray, pushing +Jack from his place, and taking the stand pompously. +“We have been the victims of prowlers. +We have lost our soup; we also lost our cans of +milk—in fact, the cruel ones took everything but +our appetites, and now we propose to put a stop +to such depredations. We will form a league to +borrow and to lend, also to pay back, but he who +taketh his brother’s soup and returneth not a can +of beans shall be expelled from the Prowlers’ +Paradise!” +</p> +<p>“We did lose five small cans of milk,” reiterated +Walter to Dave, the head or chief of a big +camp called “We-like-it,” “and if we find the +rowdy who took that he shall be court-martialed.” +</p> +<p>A commotion then started that broke up the +meeting. The boys, in rolling and tumbling about, +rolled Dainty, so-called because he never could +get enough to eat, and because his quest showed +in unweighable pounds of fat, deliberately down +the small hill at the side of Camp Couldn’t. Two +of the Cattle did the rolling, and as Dainty made +one full turn a can of milk squirmed out of his +pocket. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></p> +<p>“Robber! Thief! Traitor!” screamed the +rollers, and then poor Dainty was lugged back to +the camp. +</p> +<p>Making the charge against him, and making an +example of him would be too sad a tale for words; +sufficient to say that the meeting adjourned at the +request of a peace commission. +</p> +<p>When the last visitor had been “shooed” away +and the Couldn’ts had carefully prepared for the +lunch to be taken on the <i>Chelton</i> (although Ed +claimed that Walter had appropriated his most +becoming tie, and that the shade of tan rather +marred Wallie’s own “tannery” effect), the boys +finally put the camp flap down good and tight, and +were off to the bay. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='X_TOO_MUCH_JOY' id='X_TOO_MUCH_JOY'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>TOO MUCH JOY</h3> +</div> + +<p>Far out in the pretty bay the <i>Chelton</i> was anchored. +It was arranged that the luncheon should +be given too far from land to get anything in supplies +that might have been forgotten. In fact, it +was to be a test meal, such as might be a necessity +in case of “shipwreck” or accident. +</p> +<p>It was such a day as sometimes makes early +Summer copy Spring, when the mists of morning +mingle with the sun’s rays, and send up shafts of +haze to pillar the sky from land or water. +</p> +<p>There had been great preparations for this salt +water lunch. The girls, enthusiastic over the +possibilities, had vied with one another in arranging +the affair. +</p> +<p>Dray ran his boat, the <i>Dixie</i>, alongside, and together +the fleet of two comprised what the boys +termed a “White House Lunch.” The cooking +was all done on the <i>Chelton</i> and the eatables were +handed over the brass rail to Lottie and Marita, +who served as waitresses on the <i>Dixie</i>. First there +were lettuce sandwiches, rolled. Any girl who +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +can successfully roll bread and lettuce is termed +proficient by the cooking teachers, and it was a tie +between Belle and Cora as to who did the most +and best of the rolling. +</p> +<p>With the lettuce came the greatest treat to the +boys—homemade crab salad—home caught crabs +and handmade dressing thereon. +</p> +<p>“I caught the biggest crab,” declared Lottie, +handing the wooden plate to Belle. “Isn’t that +fine!” +</p> +<p>“Finest!” she repeated, enthusiastically. “But +say! Why don’t the boys catch crabs?” +</p> +<p>The boys did not waste time asking questions. +Lettuce sandwiches! Crab salad! They would +be serving frappé next! +</p> +<p>“Eat plenty of salad,” Cora ordered. “We +spent all yesterday evening crabbing.” +</p> +<p>“Will—we—eat—it?” exclaimed Walter. “I +won’t dare look at a frying pan again this week, +and my term ends with the week,” he said, between +bites. +</p> +<p>Next came baked potatoes. These had been +done on the electric toaster, right aboard the <i>Chelton</i>, +and while scarcely a correct following for salad, +the first was given as an appetizer, and the +potatoes as food. +</p> +<p>The latter were served on the smallest of +wooden plates, with the most extravagant little +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +butter plates—really sauce or cream “thimbles,” +all fluted and shaped from white paper. +</p> +<p>A dozen of these cups had been Belle’s contribution +to the feast. She spied them at the news +stand, over at the point, and could not leave +them. +</p> +<p>Dried beef went with the potatoes, also dill +pickles, and while Cora kept the electric toaster +going, and saw to it that the “kitchen” did not +run out of hot water from a reserve tank, the other +girls took turns eating their own lunches. Of +course, as the boys were guests, it was important +their wants should be first supplied, a matter not +easily managed, as the girls soon found out. +</p> +<p>“More! More!” called Ed, who was eating +the browned potato skin, or bark, with unmistakable +relish. “Potatoes are good for the nerves!” +</p> +<p>“Robber!” shouted Jack, grabbing a second +supply that had just been adjusted on Ed’s plate. +“Potatoes are good for the lungs, and I am—winded.” +</p> +<p>“I should like just a tiny bit more crab,” simpered +Dray. “Fish is good for——” +</p> +<p>“We have something more,” Cora announced, +“don’t each too much solid stuff.” +</p> +<p>“We couldn’t,” declared Belle, “not if we kept +eating for the rest of our mortal lives, it wouldn’t +be too much.” +</p> +<p>“There are the ‘Likes’!” announced Lottie, indicating +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +a canoe gliding up the bay, in which were +two members of the “We-like-it” camp. “Now +we will have to hide things.” +</p> +<p>“Hide things!” Belle tossed her sweater over +her plate as she saw the canoe. “We are lost!” +</p> +<p>“Oh, let us invite them alongside,” suggested +Lottie, who, up to that moment had been so busy +with setting out plates that she had scarcely spoken +to the visitors. “We have plenty of stuff.” +</p> +<p>“Nix, nary, not much!” cried Ed, in protest. +“That’s ‘Dainty’ there, the stroke, and if he +gets in here he’ll eat the dish pan and the cooker. +I say, young ladies should be most careful what +sort of fellows they associate with.” +</p> +<p>But in spite of this the “Likes” were invited. +Possibly they smelled the eatables, for they came +up to the side of the <i>Chelton</i> as nicely as if they +had set out from shore with that intention. +</p> +<p>“Thanks,” called Dainty, the fat one, “we +would be pleased to,” although no one had asked +him to do anything. +</p> +<p>“Delighted,” affirmed Kent, the other of the +party. “We sent our cards by messenger.” +</p> +<p>The canoe bobbed up and down, until Cora took +an extra rope from the <i>Chelton</i> and threw it to +Dainty, who in turn tied it to a small hook in the +green <i>Snake</i>. This served to keep the canoe from +capsizing as Dainty and Kent crept into the <i>Chelton</i>. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span></p> +<p>Just what saved all three boats from being +turned upside down in the racket that followed +only Neptune knows, for in their delight at seeing +real food the boys from the “Likes” grew so impetuous +that the “Couldn’ts” felt called upon to +interfere. +</p> +<p>Crabs, sandwiches, potatoes—each in turn were +hailed with gales of glee, until the girls fell back +exhausted with the strain of providing and cooking. +</p> +<p>“Let me, let me,” begged Dray, “I know exactly +how to handle electric appliances. I press +my neckties—with an electric iron.” +</p> +<p>He was over into the <i>Chelton</i>, and piling more +potatoes under the little tin cover on the toaster, +before anyone had time to answer. +</p> +<p>“Turned or unturned?” he asked, surveying a +smoking potato critically. +</p> +<p>“Both or neither,” answered the famished +Dainty between gasps. +</p> +<p>“I’ll take my coffee now,” announced Jack, sitting +back in the cushions, and flicking an imaginary +speck from his sweater. +</p> +<p>“Now, you must wait,” Cora ordered. “We +have not caught up to you yet. We are only at +the entree.” +</p> +<p>Lottie declared she never had such a splendid +time in her life, and the brightness of her cheeks +catching the flame from her eyes bore out this +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +statement. Marita, too, seemed to have “shook +her cocoon,” Jack said, his economy of language +scarcely making up for the little difference in +“shook” and “shaken.” Certainly she managed +to climb from one boat to another with remarkable +alertness, while Bess, Belle and Cora acted like +up-to-date society maidens, only they acted a little +in advance of the “date” usually adhered to. +</p> +<p>“And do we have to leave these shores?” +wailed Ed, sipping a real good cup of coffee. +“Why not anchor here for now and for eternity!” +</p> +<p>“I thought you liked camping,” said Belle. +“Surely you are not tired of housekeeping. +Doesn’t it run smoothly?” +</p> +<p>“Sure,” replied Ed, “but the grub is the +trouble. I wonder why mammas, with good moral +intentions, train little boys to eat?” +</p> +<p>“Do you see those clouds,” remarked Cora, +“they are just swooping down on us, and we are +miles from home. My, but it is going to be a +quick shower!” +</p> +<p>The young people had been enjoying themselves +so much that not until Cora spoke did they realize +that the sky had become overcast. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m scared to death,” cried Marita. +“Those clouds are so near—you would think they +would touch the water!” +</p> +<p>“Oh, aren’t they black!” gasped Belle. +</p> +<p>“Come, get everything under cover,” called +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +Jack, thinking first of the danger to the girls and +their boat. “Dray can get his awning up quickly +enough, but this one has not been opened yet.” +</p> +<p>“You boys just tie your canoe tight to us,” Cora +said, as the two visitors were about to climb into +their frail skiff. “You would be washed out during +the storm that’s coming. Here, Bess, hold +this,” handing Bess one end of the awning tie. +“Belle, can you keep that rope taut?” +</p> +<p>It was astonishing how quickly the scene of enjoyment +turned to one of alarm. Those of the +girls who were active and eager to assist in making +things safe, did not suffer so much from fright as +did they who took time to watch the clouds. The +first severe storm of Summer usually has a more +terrifying effect upon the timid ones than those that +may follow, and this one certainly was a “star” +for a starter. +</p> +<p>The lightning soon began to flash intermittently +and the thunder to rumble. The clear expanse +of horizon afforded such a wide view of the storm +that it was small wonder those out in the bay +feared for their safety. +</p> +<p>“Oh!” wailed Marita, as one flash of lightning +seemed to dart directly at the brass rail of Dray’s +boat. “I thought I was struck!” +</p> +<p>Her words had not been uttered before the clap +of thunder followed. This had that queer, deep +sound peculiar to the water, and certainly the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +heart of the storm seemed to hover over the little +fleet. +</p> +<p>All over the bay sail boats, canoes, motor +boats, row boats and every sort of craft were making +for shore, but in most of these there were little +or no goods that might be damaged by rain or +waves, while both the <i>Dixie</i> and the <i>Chelton</i> would +have suffered severely had they encountered a +down-pour uncovered. +</p> +<p>The awnings were up at last, and Jack had +started the <i>Chelton</i>. Directly after that the chug +of the <i>Dixie</i> was heard. +</p> +<p>Then it was all storm! Raging! Roaring! +Which way could two small motor boats hope to +plough their way in such a fury of wind, rain and +lightning? +</p> +<p>The waves had assumed the proportions of +billows, and every time a boat lifted with the +crest, a huge bank of water would break over it. +</p> +<p>Jack clung to the steering wheel, and Cora +never took her eyes off the engine. But how they +whirled and twirled! There was the <i>Dixie!</i> It +was keeping near—one good thing. The canoe +had broken loose and was soon lost to sight. No +one bewailed it; there was too serious work at +hand for that. +</p> +<p>“Let me look after the gas!” begged Kent of +Cora. He was at her elbow, but she had insisted +on personally attending to the machine. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span></p> +<p>“I know it better, perhaps,” she shrieked back, +“but stay close. If I cannot manage I will let +you know!” +</p> +<p>One terrific clap, then a roar sounded in the +ears of all, but seemed to paralyze Lottie. +</p> +<p>She fell in a heap and lay speechless. Up to +this time she had been half sitting in the bottom of +the boat. +</p> +<p>“She’s struck!” shrieked Belle. Then Cora +left the engine to Kent and took charge of the +senseless girl. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XI_THE_RESCUE' id='XI_THE_RESCUE'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>THE RESCUE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The coffee that stood on the still warm electric +stove proved a valuable aid in restoring the +stunned Lottie. She had not been struck; her +nerves had simply given out, and she had collapsed. +</p> +<p>Finally she opened her eyes. +</p> +<p>“I’m all right now,” she said faintly, and it was +evident the shock had dulled her terror, at least. +</p> +<p>“Just lie still,” whispered Cora, encouragingly. +“The storm will soon be over.” +</p> +<p>“The storm?” Lottie repeated. Then she +closed her eyes again, but this time it was only exhaustion, +not faintness. +</p> +<p>The other girls had been roused to activity by +Lottie’s condition. They could now see a rift in +the clouds, and one after another hurried to say +that the storm was breaking, and it was not so +bad; that boats could be seen, and perhaps they +would soon sight land. +</p> +<p>But those at the wheels of the boats knew how +little they could do in the way of steering. Every +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +time the wheel was turned one way the force of the +rollers would wash it completely around. In fact +they were making absolutely no progress, and +might almost as well have allowed the powerless +craft to submit to the fury of the waters. +</p> +<p>Cora realized this, as did the boys, but the other +girls, except perhaps Bess, felt more secure as the +sound of the motor indicated motion. The clouds +were lifting, but the force of the storm seemed to +be coming in from sea, and had little to do with +the appearance of the sky. +</p> +<p>“Oh, if help would only come!” Cora whispered +to Bess. “I’m afraid another and worse +storm is gathering!” +</p> +<p>“Don’t give up,” replied the girl, her own face +gray in the mist and spray that covered the deck +even under the awnings. +</p> +<p>“I—see—something bobbing up and down over +there!” Cora continued. “See! It is—a big, +strong boat, perhaps a lifeboat!” +</p> +<p>“Let us hope so,” answered Bess, fervently. +</p> +<p>Not one word could Cora exchange with Jack, +he was too far from her to hear her voice. The +<i>Dixie</i> was still near enough to be sighted, but how +the boys managed to keep her so was as remarkable +to themselves as to those on the <i>Chelton</i>. +</p> +<p>“That’s a boat, all right,” said Bess with more +vigor in her voice, “and it looks like one from the +life-saving station.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></p> +<p>Cora peered anxiously in the direction of the +speck that played upon the waves. +</p> +<p>“Hey!” yelled Jack, “there comes Denny!” +</p> +<p>“Denny!” repeated Cora wonderingly. +</p> +<p>“Oh, there’s Freda!” called Belle, jumping up +from the bottom of the boat and promptly falling +back again. +</p> +<p>“It’s Freda and Denny, and someone else?” +asked Bess, breathlessly. “Oh, what a mercy!” +</p> +<p>“It’s a boy,” declared Kent. “See the rain-hat +and slicker?” +</p> +<p>“Yes, and see Freda’s hair floating out from +under that rubber hat!” insisted Bess. “Oh, I +know it’s Freda, and I can see Denny plainly!” +</p> +<p>The boat was coming nearer. On the crest of +a roller it fairly soared towards them. Then Cora +saw it was Denny and Freda, with another man +whom they did not know. +</p> +<p>“Head up into it!” came a voice from the dory, +for even in a storm Denny knew how to make his +voice carry over the water. +</p> +<p>Jack heard, and swung the wheel toward the +left. That would put them “into the storm,” instead +of on the edge of it. +</p> +<p>At that moment the <i>Dixie</i> shot past and dashed +right up to the dory. +</p> +<p>“Here,” called Jack, “can you make it to get +in here?” This was called to those in Denny’s +boat. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></p> +<p>“Not now!” shouted back the man. “Keep +close!” +</p> +<p>The roar of the storm increased. Just as Cora +had predicted, the new squall was worse than the +first. For some moments all three boats tossed +and tumbled as if they had neither master nor +man, but it was the <i>Chelton</i> that righted herself +first. +</p> +<p>By an ungiven signal the three boats got into +line. The dory was directly in the center and the +two motor boats served to shield it from the +waves that lashed them on either side. +</p> +<p>“Quick! Freda!” yelled Cora, grasping the +line Denny tossed to her. “You can climb in! We +can hold it tight!” +</p> +<p>Like a sprite, the girl in the yellow slicker and +rubber hat made for the highest end of the boat, +measured her distance to the <i>Chelton</i>, and while +Kent and Cora strained to hold the rope steady, +sprang. +</p> +<p>It was not the distance, which was but a few +feet, but the uncertainty of the boats’ motion that +made the leap perilous. But Freda landed safely +in the <i>Chelton</i>. +</p> +<p>“None too soon!” gasped Cora, pressing her +arms around the wet oilskin coat. “See where +they have gotten to now!” +</p> +<p>The boats had drifted apart again. The girls +clung to Freda as if she had really brought them +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +safely to shore, instead of adding her own weight +to their burden, but it was the message from land +that reassured them. +</p> +<p>“Isn’t it dreadful!” moaned Lottie, still trembling +from her collapse. +</p> +<p>“No!” replied Freda, cheerfully. “It isn’t +so bad out there. But we knew what it was on this +bar, and could tell by the wind just about where +you were drifting. If Jack will let me take the +wheel I will follow Denny’s orders and ride into +it. Then we can go around the island—and see +a blue sky!” +</p> +<p>“Blue sky!” came the exclamation from the +girls in unison. +</p> +<p>“Certainly. But I must have the wheel, Jack.” +</p> +<p>Having satisfied them that she could run the +boat, Freda changed places with Jack, while Cora +let her brother take up her watch beside Kent. +Then Cora went to the steering wheel with Freda. +</p> +<p>“Don’t be afraid,” the latter said. “I have +ridden out worse storms than this with Denny. +They have a way of turning things upside down, +but you are all right as long as you can keep well +on top.” +</p> +<p>She was driving directly into the smother. The +girls shut their eyes, and it must be admitted that +more than one put their fingers in their ears, for +indeed the roar was deafening. +</p> +<p>“There are Denny and the man getting into the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +<i>Dixie</i>!” breathed Cora. “Oh, I am so glad, for +it must have been dreadful to row that boat.” +</p> +<p>“It <i>was</i> no joke, but Denny likes hard work,” +Freda answered. “Now here is where we ride it +out!” +</p> +<p>Every bit of power was turned on and with one +well directed plunge the <i>Chelton</i> was shot through +what seemed to be a “comber” as if she had been +a submarine. +</p> +<p>“Oh!” gasped Cora. Freda dropped into the +“V” space at the base of the wheel. Still, she did +not take her hands from the spokes. It was a +serious moment. What if the boat could not ride +those waves? The time it took to get out of the +harder waves could not be estimated by the hands +of a clock or watch; but in gasping breaths, thumping +hearts, pale faces and fears—for boys as well +as for girls—it must have been a long, long time. +</p> +<p>Finally Freda stood up. +</p> +<p>“There!” she exclaimed. “What did I tell +you?” +</p> +<p>“Sky!” they all shouted, clapping their hands +like children. +</p> +<p>“And—it—took a girl—to—do it!” exclaimed +Jack, who would not have been blamed +for hugging Freda had the opportunity offered. +Instead, however, he made his way back to the +wheel and allowed Freda and Cora a chance to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +look at their blistered hands, for both girls had +been tugging at the spokes. +</p> +<p>“Who would believe a storm would end like +that?” said Belle, with the relief that comes so +quickly upon intense strain. +</p> +<p>“We have got to keep in out of the rain for a +while,” Cora cautioned. “There are enough +water-loaded clouds over there yet to dampen our +enthusiasm.” +</p> +<p>This proved to be true, for torrents of rain followed +in the wake of the vanishing thunder clouds. +</p> +<p>But the wind had ceased, and the waves soon +quieted. With more than a sigh of relief the <i>Chelton</i> +girls and boys fell into the course made now +by the <i>Dixie</i>, for in that boat Denny Shane was +at the wheel. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XII_THE_CALM' id='XII_THE_CALM'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>THE CALM</h3> +</div> + +<p>A more delightful scene than Crystal Bay presented, +two hours after the squall, could scarcely +be imagined. To the motor girls it was particularly +effective, as may easily be imagined. Coming +back around the island the <i>Dixie</i> picked up the +lost canoe, so this left nothing to be worried over +in the record of adventure. +</p> +<p>“How do you feel, Lottie?” Cora asked, when +all had landed safely and stood looking over the +waters that could be so deceptive. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I am all right, really,” answered Lottie, +a little ashamed that she should have allowed herself +to give way. +</p> +<p>“But be careful,” cautioned Cora. “Take it +easy for the rest of the day, at least. It doesn’t +do to try too much.” +</p> +<p>“Grandmother!” Lottie answered, with an affectionate +squeeze of Cora’s arm. “What about +you? Who did all the engineering in the storm? +And who is still ‘on deck’ giving orders?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></p> +<p>“Oh, I am strong,” replied Cora, though strong +as she was the last few hours had told in the paler +tint of her cheeks. +</p> +<p>The return of the storm-stricken ones attracted +crowds of bungalowers and campers to the beach; +for, of course, craft of all sorts had been caught +in the gale. The center of interest, however, was +the <i>Chelton</i>, for that boat had already gained a +reputation at Crystal Bay. +</p> +<p>Not one person came in from the bay in dry +clothes; in fact, many were drenched, and naturally +the girls showed the effects of the storm more +conspicuously than did the boys. Bess happened +to be the one “who got the worst of it,” among the +motor girls—perhaps because there was more of +her for the waves to hit. +</p> +<p>“You are certainly a beauty,” commented Belle, +who had been more fortunate in dodging the +water. “You look like a swimming lesson in the +first stage.” +</p> +<p>“I feel as if I needed artificial respiration,” replied +Bess, good-humoredly, “but I want to forget +it all—all but this. Isn’t this wonderful?” +</p> +<p>“Almost enough to make up for the danger,” +Belle returned. “But wasn’t Freda splendid? +What good training she must have had to be able +to manage that boat. No one else except Cora +could have done it, and she was unfamiliar with +the tricks of the bay. I do feel so sorry for Freda +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +and her mother!” This last was said with a wistful +sigh, for all the members of the Mote were +now much attached to the motherly Mrs. Lewis. +</p> +<p>“Cora must have known those men were going +to put the ‘for sale’ sign on the cottage, when she +hurried so to get Freda and her mother over to +our place the other night,” went on Bess. “I knew +there was something more important than merely +taking care of us.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, of course, that’s just like Cora. Fancy +Mrs. Lewis never hearing a word about it. If +she had been in the house when they tacked that +sign on——” +</p> +<p>“It must be perfectly awful to lose everything +that way; to feel it is all an injustice, yet not to +be able to prove one’s own claim,” said Belle. +“Tricky business men are worse to watch than +spiteful girls, and we always thought <i>they</i> were +about all that we could handle. There’s Ted and +Jean. Just look at their boat!” +</p> +<p>Among the last of the storm-bound ones to +“enter port” were Ted and Jean, members of +“Camp All Alone.” They certainly presented a +sorry spectacle, as they came up to the dock. +</p> +<p>“How do you feel?” asked Lottie, who was +down near the water’s edge, in spite of Cora’s admonition. +</p> +<p>“I feel like playing a spaghetti obligato on a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +big hot bowl of soup,” replied Jean. “That would +be the song to reach my heart.” +</p> +<p>“The sun is clucking, girls,” announced Walter. +“She may set at any time. Is there aught to +eat at the Mote? Let us thither. We intended +to go to the store before tea.” +</p> +<p>“After giving you your lunch!” exclaimed +Cora, in surprise. +</p> +<p>“But, don’t you see, that is why we didn’t get +to the store. You are really liable for our suppers. +Don’t you think so, fellows?” he asked. +</p> +<p>“Not only liable, but accountable,” added Ed. +“Of course we will go home and dress. I wonder +what on earth the squall did to headquarters?” +he asked, suddenly realizing that the camp had +had need of secure moorings during the last two +hours. +</p> +<p>“Let’s look,” suggested Dray, who had now +moored the <i>Dixie</i> securely, while Jack and Cora +had attended to the <i>Chelton</i>. +</p> +<p>“Oh, you ought to see your tent,” sang out a +little fellow, who wore little beside a shirt and +bathing trunks. He had been out in the squall +and had, very likely, enjoyed it immensely. +</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with it?” inquired Jack. +</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s all flippy-floppy,” replied the urchin. +“But some lady saw it goin’ and she tied it back +to the stakes.” +</p> +<p>“Some lady?” repeated Jack. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span></p> +<p>“Mrs. Lewis, likely,” suggested Cora. “I +hope she did not go out in that down-pour to tie +the tents.” +</p> +<p>“I rather hope she did,” admitted her brother. +“I had some things in that tent not warranted +rainproof. Hey, fellows!” he called to the other +members of Camp Couldn’t. “Hurry up. Our +tent was struck, they say.” +</p> +<p>At the word the crowd from the beach ran helter-skelter +through the woods toward the camp +colony. Surely there was enough excitement +around Crystal Bay that afternoon to last for some +time, and there was every prospect now of new +adventures developing. +</p> +<p>“Any tents down?” asked Dainty, as he puffed +along. +</p> +<p>“Thinking of spilled grub?” queried Walter. +“Nothing doing. We have a salvage corps +department to our housewives’ league, you know, +and they are bound to protect the members from +bandits. So you may just run along and see what +is going on at the Cattle.” +</p> +<p>The storm had played havoc in the woods. +Pine branches had scratched deep furrows in the +white sand paths, beautiful bushes of blooming +mountain laurel and mountain pinks were shorn +of every bloom, and the wild roses were scattered +like pink butterflies on the catch leaves of shrubs. +</p> +<p>The first camp to be met by the boys was Camp +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +Hyphen. This was quite a pretentious establishment +with a smaller tent adjunct. The adjunct +stood for the hyphen, and it now lay in a heap like +a discarded potato sack, its store of supplies settled +uncertainly in nearby bushes. +</p> +<p>“My, and they had just joined the League,” +wailed Jack. “I suppose we will all have to put +up for the reinforcements.” +</p> +<p>“We are not an insurance company,” Ed objected. +“Why should we make good for a +storm?” +</p> +<p>“Because we have a calamity clause. You had +better look up your rules and regulations, young +man. The last time I saw them they were pasted +with a daub of good family flour on our back +door.” +</p> +<p>“Thank goodness the rain will have suspended +our constitution,” Ed replied. “That back door +never could have gone dry through the torrent. +Don’t you remember how the small showers +doused it?” +</p> +<p>“We do,” Walter answered, “and as we have +the only written rules, that same fact of the back +door may stand us in well.” +</p> +<p>“Pikers!” Jack called them with a laugh. “But +will you observe the Hys! They are going to rebuild!” +</p> +<p>A hyphenated name seemed the worst of luck +for this camp, for there was no strong pole or +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +cast iron bar to hold the two tents together, and +the “hy” was merely a strip of ground that gave +extra play to the wind. The smaller tent was now +being dragged from the bed of wet sand into which +it had partly buried itself, and the campers were +struggling heroically to get it back to its pegs. +</p> +<p>“Too bad!” called Walter, sympathetically. +</p> +<p>“Worse than that,” replied one fellow, who +looked as if he might have been shipwrecked. +</p> +<p>“But we are insured—in the league, you know,” +shouted another member of the demolished camp. +“We are coming up for supper.” +</p> +<p>“You are?” returned Dray. “Say, fellows,” +to his own camp company, “the best thing we can +do is to take what stuff we find left and hide up at +the Mote. Those fellows will come down on us +and won’t believe about the washed-away constitution. +Who on earth put that indemnity clause in, +anyhow?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, Clem did. He’s studying engineering, +and I suppose he is lonesome for his math. We +ought to make him pay the assessment. But I +agree with Dray,” continued Walter. “We ought +to ‘beat it’ up to the Mote, quick. There are +other tents flopping around, and everybody will be +good and hungry, you can be sure.” +</p> +<p>“Queer how old Denny made for his shack as +soon as we got in,” Ed remarked. “I wonder +if he thought that would be demolished?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></p> +<p>“No, not likely,” Jack said, “but the old fellow +was pretty wet and played out. He’s plucky, all +right, and I don’t believe we would be in yet but +for him and Freda. But he is old, just the same, +and only his pluck keeps him up to it. I would like +to have been more decent to him, but he won’t give +one a chance. We must fix it up some way, +though.” +</p> +<p>“We sure must,” agreed the others. +</p> +<p>“There’s another,” announced Jack, as a perfectly +flat tent almost blocked their way. This was +evidently deserted, for not a boy was to be seen, +either lamenting or trying to right the canvas. +</p> +<p>“Funny,” commented Ed. “They must have +gone to the hotel.” +</p> +<p>“Hotel!” exclaimed Jack. “Why, they borrowed +a pint of our kerosene this morning. They +may have gone to jail.” +</p> +<p>“Let’s run,” suggested Ed. “This funeral +march is getting on my nerves. Besides, I am anxious +to see the Couldn’t.” +</p> +<p>In a few minutes the boys sighted their own +tent. It looked all right. +</p> +<p>“Thank goodness!” breathed Dray, fervently. +“I really couldn’t stand any more nerve-racking +experiences.” +</p> +<p>“We look intact,” said Walter. “I wonder if +my dress suit is still unwrinkled.” +</p> +<p>“Your overalls?” asked Jack, mimicking Walter’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +tone of voice. “Oh, I am sure they are perfectly +all right, for I saw them in the wood box +just before we left.” +</p> +<p>“Brute!” responded Walter. “But I say! +What’s that? We are inhabited!” +</p> +<p>Sounds of voices issued from inside the tent. +Jack dashed ahead and raised the flap. +</p> +<p>“Robbers! Thieves! Police!” he yelled, then +he had to dodge something. +</p> +<p>“We are here for our rights,” sang out a strong +voice. “We demand our insurance!” +</p> +<p>“Seems to me the demand is rather violent,” replied +Ed, as the Couldn’ts saw what was going on. +The entire tent was filled with boys from the +wrecked camps, and they were making away with +practically everything in the line of eatables they +could lay their hands on. +</p> +<p>“Clear out!” ordered Dray, “or we will call +the police. What sort of way is this to keep law +and order?” +</p> +<p>“The only way,” replied Hal, a boy from the +“Mist.” “We couldn’t even keep up in starvation, +but with something to sustain us we might be able +to keep the law. As a matter of fact, it was civic +pride that compelled us to come in here and eat.” +</p> +<p>There was no help for it now, the Couldn’ts had +been robbed. Even their party paper napkins +were being made into balls. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></p> +<p>“Isn’t it awful!” moaned Jack, falling into the +one dry spot on the sandy floor. “And we were +the real benefactors of this ranch. That’s the +way goodness is repaid in this hard, cruel world.” +</p> +<p>Nobody noticed the sermon—everyone was too +busy looking for food. Finally Walter and Ed, +after a private conference with Dray and Jack, decided +to give to the unfortunates all the food they +possessed, “in order to avert worse damage to +their property.” +</p> +<p>“But we are dining out,” Ed put in, “and it’s +only fair that you should take the provender +home. We want to wash our little faces, you +know. We dine with ladies.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, we will pay it all back,” declared Clem, +who was scooping up empty boxes in the hope of +being agreeably disappointed in their contents as +compared with their weight. +</p> +<p>“Yes—you—will!” mocked Jack, “when we +can skate on the sand of the desert. But hustle. +There’s not another scrap around. Land that oil +can, Ted. It’s empty.” +</p> +<p>After considerable urging, ordering and coaxing, +the Couldn’ts rid themselves of their uninvited +guests, and were once again in possession +of their own tents. +</p> +<p>“Did the girls invite us?” asked Dray. “I hate +to intrude.” +</p> +<p>“They did not,” replied Jack, “and we are not +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +going to intrude. We are just going over to thank +Mrs. Lewis for saving this camp from destruction. +She hammered down those stakes. Look at +them!” he ordered. “Ed, did you ever wield a +hammer as truthfully as that?” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIII_SUSPICION' id='XIII_SUSPICION'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>SUSPICION</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Of course we can get supper for everyone,” +declared Mrs. Lewis, cordially, when Cora spoke +of the determination of the boys to come down +upon the Mote for tea. “We have plenty of +food.” +</p> +<p>“You are a wonder, Mrs. Lewis,” declared +Cora. “You always have a full larder. I don’t +see where it comes from, for you don’t even use +up the budget.” +</p> +<p>“It’s a matter of experience,” answered Mrs. +Lewis. “When one has to do things, my dear, +one learns how. I am so glad we have macaroni +cooked. Boys love big, steaming dishes.” +</p> +<p>Cora gave a sigh of relief. What a blessing +Mrs. Lewis had proven to be! After finding themselves +shut out of their house by a trick of the +land agents she and her daughter had taken up a +permanent residence in the girls’ camp. Freda, +in spite of all opposition, had installed herself as +“maid.” She insisted on waiting on the table, and +attending to rooms, and helping her mother generally, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +although the girls wanted her to be one of +them. Everyone declared that her mother, with +her wonderful management and activity, more +than made up for Freda being a visitor at the +Mote. +</p> +<p>Freda seemed happier now than when she +shared the little cottage with her mother, but this +was easily understood. Under the new arrangement +Mrs. Lewis was earning an honest and comfortable +living, and Freda was more than willing +to assist her in every way possible. Before, they +had lived in constant dread of the land agents +putting them out of their home. Even the fact that +the sign “For Sale” had been placed on the cottage +did not seem so unbearable, for the girls and +boys had insisted that that was only a “scare” on +the part of the land agents, and that while the town +constable would not interfere to the extent of taking +down the sign, he had promised to investigate +the rights of those who put it up. +</p> +<p>But town constables are slow and timid when +strangers, with big-brimmed hats, and plenty of +cigars, come from the city, and order papers +signed at so much per sign—for the constable. +</p> +<p>The boys had come, and the supper was almost +ready. Lottie looked as pretty and as well as ever, +for she had dressed in a chic pink frock, and with +a pink snood binding her brow looked as fresh +as though she had just come from the hands of +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +a beauty specialist. After all, such vigorous +treatment and baths of spray as the girls had encountered +all that afternoon amounted to just +that—beauty treatment; and Lottie was not the +only one whose cheeks glowed, and in whose eyes +shone the light that comes only from youth and +health. +</p> +<p>The rumpus that always followed the boys’ arrival +was in full sway, Jack and Ed chasing Bess +around the bungalow to make her give up an +imaginary lost scarf pin, while Dray and Walter +contented themselves with the less violent exercise +of rocking on the front porch, where the other +girls were scattered. They certainly were “scattered,” +for there was so much to tell and hear of +the afternoon’s adventure that each girl chose her +own listener and her own corner. +</p> +<p>Everyone seemed deeply absorbed in this when +Freda appeared at the door with the warning bell. +That meant that in five minutes the tea bell would +ring—only it was going to be dinner to-night. +</p> +<p>“That sounds fine,” Dray told Freda, who in +her blue linen sailor suit looked quite as well as the +young ladies who put in most of their time “leisuring.” +“Our Belle is not nearly as aristocratic as +that.” +</p> +<p>“I hope dinner will bear out the reputation,” +Freda replied, a bit shyly, for Dray was somewhat +of a stranger to her. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></p> +<p>“Dinner will make that reputation immortal,” +Jack declared, as he and Ed gave up their chase +and joined the others on the porch. “But hello! +Here comes Denny! And he has no pipe! Something +surely is wrong.” +</p> +<p>Everyone ceased chattering as Denny Shane appeared +on the tan bark path. +</p> +<p>“Hello, there, Denny!” called Jack, getting up +from his porch chair. “What’s up?” +</p> +<p>“A-plenty,” answered Denny with a sweep of +his cap that took everyone in the greeting. +“Where’s the Widder Lewis?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, what’s the matter, Denny?” asked Freda, +aghast. “Can’t you tell me first? You know how +weak mother is.” +</p> +<p>“’Tis nothing bad,” replied Denny, as he sat +down on the bottom step of the porch, in spite of +all invitations to come up and have a chair. He +settled his cap more securely on his gray head. “I +just want to—tell her something.” +</p> +<p>“But what?” insisted Freda, who now sat beside +the old sailor on the step. “I know all about +the business, you know.” +</p> +<p>“Do come in, Denny,” pleaded Cora. “It will +be easier to talk in the living room. We young +folks can go into the dining room and start our +dinner while you settle it all quietly among yourselves.” +</p> +<p>“Thank you, Miss,” Denny replied, promptly +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +accepting Cora’s invitation. “That will be the +best way, I guess.” +</p> +<p>Famished as everyone seemed to be, the visit +of Denny somewhat shifted the interest from appetites, +and curiosity strayed from the dining room +toward the living room. +</p> +<p>“What can have happened?” whispered Belle +to Marita. “Denny looks positively—angry.” +</p> +<p>“Doesn’t he?” Marita replied. “I suppose it +is something about Freda’s property; don’t you +think so?” +</p> +<p>“Likely.” +</p> +<p>The voices from the other room, that had been +subdued, now rose in tones of surprise. Freda and +her mother were both trying to talk at the same +time, evidently. +</p> +<p>Cora was serving the dinner and endeavoring +not to spoil it. The boys were too hungry and +too glad to eat to allow any interruption to interfere +with their pleasure, but the girls were prone to +whisper, and even to listen when a voice penetrated +the room. +</p> +<p>“It was them!” they heard Denny exclaim, +“and I’ll have the law on them!” +</p> +<p>Then Freda said something like: “Can’t be +sure!” +</p> +<p>“Sure as me name’s Dinny Shane!” exclaimed +the old man. “Who else would have tied up +little Brian, the dog that was never tied before in +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +his life! Sure I’d like to ’a caught them at it,” and +he brought his fist down hard on something. +</p> +<p>The boys and girls exchanged glances. +</p> +<p>“Something doing,” ventured Jack. “I’ll bet +Denny has seen the witches.” +</p> +<p>“No—banshees,” corrected Ed. “Witches +aren’t ripe this time of year. But Cora, don’t let +us keep you. Really, Walter would love to take +your place up head there, when you have finished.” +</p> +<p>Cora was anxious to join in the conversation +with Freda and her mother, Freda having whispered +to her that they would like to have her do so +as soon as the dinner was over. +</p> +<p>“Then I will be excused,” she said, “although I +hope you won’t hurry.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t be alarmed,” said Walter. “It’s very +bad to eat in a hurry.” +</p> +<p>“I’ll serve,” proposed Bess, “I know just how +much everyone has had, and how much more they +<i>ought</i> to have. Dray, you cannot have another bit +of pudding.” +</p> +<p>Dray was stretching far out for the dish. He +did love apple slump. And Mrs. Lewis knew just +the right amount of cinnamon to season with. +</p> +<p>A hush followed Cora’s entrance to the living +room. Not a single word or exclamation escaped +through the Summer hangings that hid the narrow +door. +</p> +<p>“Do you think it’s a conspiracy?” remarked +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +Walter. “I’m glad we had dinner first. I had no +idea that a hurricane went straight to the hunger +zone like that.” +</p> +<p>“You would be a star to go up North,” commented +Ed. “Just fancy carrying stuff in your +pockets and starving because the exact latitude for +grub had not been reached—wow!” +</p> +<p>“I would insist upon being made chairman of +the latitude committee,” replied Walter, “and my +moves would be swift and certain.” +</p> +<p>The door opened and Freda entered. She was +not exactly all smiles, but the serious look on her +face was not deep enough to cause comment. +</p> +<p>“I came to fetch your coffee,” she announced, +cheerfully. “You must think we are planning to +dynamite something,” she added. +</p> +<p>“Oh, worse than that,” replied Dray, getting +one more spoonful of slump on the sly. “We +thought you were taking a negative vote on the +coffee. Nerves, at night, you know.” +</p> +<p>“Let me help you,” insisted Belle. “I am almost +stiff from sitting, or maybe it is from the +way I <i>wasn’t</i> sitting in the bottom of the boat.” +</p> +<p>“Very likely,” affirmed Jack. “I would not be +surprised if we had to come around in the morning +with nippers to get the kinks out. I see one +forming, right now, in Lottie’s cheek.” +</p> +<p>“We will be stiff, I am sure,” added Bess, “although +our muscles ought to be in good form.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></p> +<p>“When you have finished,” Freda whispered to +Belle, “we want to give Denny something.” +</p> +<p>“Of course,” Belle replied. “How selfish we +are, sitting here ‘gabbing,’ and neither you nor +your mother has had supper yet. I’ll serve coffee +at once.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t hurry,” Freda said. “We have time +enough.” +</p> +<p>Everyone, however, seemed to guess at once +that they should make room for the next “table,” +and the coffee was swallowed, hastily. +</p> +<p>“What is it?” Lottie ventured to ask Freda. +“We are just dying of curiosity. What has happened?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I can’t tell you now,” Freda answered, +evasively. “I guess everyone knew we were shipwrecked +this afternoon.” +</p> +<p>Cora appeared at the door. “May we come to +eat now?” she asked. “I have only succeeded in +making Denny stay with the understanding that we +won’t keep him long. He is anxious to get back +to his cabin.” +</p> +<p>“I am that,” said Denny, following Cora into +the dining room. “Can’t tell what’ll happen now.” +</p> +<p>“Then something <i>did</i> happen,” Bess said aside, +to Marita. “I can’t imagine what.” +</p> +<p>“Now you must eat a good meal,” Mrs. Lewis +insisted to Denny. “I remember well how you +always loved macaroni and cheese.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p> +<p>“And I remember well how you fixed it up,” answered +Denny, gallantly. “This is a bit like the +old days; isn’t it? When I used to eat you out of +house and home, when Len would fetch me into +your house to tempt me appetite,” and he chuckled +at the recollection. “Freddie, you were only a +tot then, but you could climb on my knee right +smart. I guess you were always a romp.” This +last was plainly intended as a compliment, for +Denny smiled at Freda as she handed him his +steaming coffee. +</p> +<p>If the young folks thought that by special attention +to Denny and his wants at the table they +might get an inkling of the mystery that had so +excited the old man they were disappointed, for +he never betrayed a word of it, and only an occasional +absent look in his sober gray eyes betokened +anything unusual. +</p> +<p>He scarcely took time to swallow the tempting +food, however, when he jumped up and declared +he could not stay another minute, although Cora, +Freda, and Mrs. Lewis urged him to remain. +</p> +<p>“I must run—I really must,” he insisted, “and +mind what I tell you,” to Freda and Cora, “look +out for yourselves!” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIV_AN_ANGRY_DRUGGIST' id='XIV_AN_ANGRY_DRUGGIST'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>AN ANGRY DRUGGIST</h3> +</div> + +<p>“We didn’t want to make a fuss over it before +the boys,” Cora explained to a number of the +girls, who, next morning, were seated about the +bungalow side porch, trying to get in a few +stitches of embroidery. “They would be sure to +go straight at those land fellows, and we think—Denny +and all of us—that the best way to do is +to watch them carefully for a while.” +</p> +<p>“But what happened?” demanded Lottie, impatiently. +</p> +<p>“We don’t know exactly what, but it appears +that while Denny was out, fishing us in, someone +entered his shack and ransacked it.” +</p> +<p>“Burglars! What for? In that hut!” exclaimed +Belle. +</p> +<p>“We don’t know that, either,” continued Cora. +“We can only surmise. They must have been +after something that was neither money nor table +silver.” She laughed a little at the idea of anyone +trying to rob the humble cabin of a fisherman. +“The little terrier is never tied up and never +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +troubles anybody, but it seems he did object to the +intrusion, for he has a cut on one leg, made, possibly, +by a heavy shoe, and when Denny found +him he was tied tight to a hook in the woodshed. +Denny will never forgive whoever tied Brian.” +</p> +<p>“But did the thieves take anything?” Bess +wanted to know. +</p> +<p>“Not a thing. Of course there was nothing an +ordinary thief would have any use for; but it looks +as if they were searching for something in particular, +for everything was turned inside out. Every +strip of carpet was pulled up and loose boards in +the floor pried away. It really is too bad for +Denny. He will have a lot of trouble getting +things in order again, and you know he is neat, +for a lone fisherman.” +</p> +<p>“Isn’t that outrageous!” exclaimed Belle. “I +think, Cora, we should have told the boys and had +them make a charge against whoever may be +guilty. They will be ransacking here next.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, goodness! I hope not,” cried Marita. +“I think we should have police protection.” +</p> +<p>“And have officers ringing our door bell all +hours of the night because someone forgot to turn +out the dining room light, or the side window was +found unlocked,” said Cora. “They have very +few officers here, I should imagine, and if we +really gave them something to do they might insist +on doing it.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p> +<p>“Tell us more about it,” begged Marita, who +was naturally fascinated with the “scary” part. +</p> +<p>“I only know that his shack was entered and +all but torn down,” said Cora. “As to who did it, +or why it was done, we can only surmise. But +don’t talk too much about it. We want to keep it +quiet.” +</p> +<p>“Why?” demanded Marita. +</p> +<p>“Because by letting other people talk about it +we may be able to trace the perpetrators. We +could easily find out who knew it had happened, in +that way.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I see,” Marita answered vaguely, although +her tone did not indicate comprehension. +“Freda and Mrs. Lewis are going out; aren’t +they?” This question implied “why” also. +</p> +<p>“Yes,” Cora answered again. “They have +some business to attend to. I told them not to +hurry back for lunch—we would attend to it. We +really need the exercise.” +</p> +<p>“But I am going canoeing directly after lunch,” +Lottie objected. +</p> +<p>“After lunch?” repeated Belle. “This will be +before lunch—the getting ready.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, you know what I mean,” Lottie grumbled. +“It makes one’s hands so horrid to handle cooking +things.” +</p> +<p>“Were you going to paddle?” asked Cora, innocently. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span></p> +<p>“I was going to try,” admitted Lottie. +</p> +<p>“Then your hands will be in better shape from +some active work,” Cora added, mischievously. +“It is awful to try to paddle with soft hands.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I guess mine are not any too soft,” Lottie +retorted, a bit abashed that she should have fallen +into the trap. +</p> +<p>“Where are you going, Lottie?” asked Marita. +“You know it is only safe to canoe near the shore. +The water can be very rough sometimes.” +</p> +<p>“I don’t think you ought to go in a canoe until +you can swim,” said Cora. “You know a canoe +is the most uncertain of craft, except that it is absolutely +certain to upset if you draw a breath in, +when you should send a breath out. Jack says a +canoe is more than human, but I won’t shock your +ears by saying what he thinks it is.” +</p> +<p>“I am sure there is no danger when one sits +still,” Lottie insisted, “but if you don’t want me +to go, Cora——” +</p> +<p>“Of course I want you to go, and have a nice +time,” Cora explained, “but I don’t want you to +upset. You should wear a bathing suit and be +ready to swim in case of a spill.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I couldn’t do that!” exclaimed Lottie, +rather shocked. “I am going with Clem.” +</p> +<p>“Well, I hope Clem will put you in the very +bottom of the boat, and not trust to a seat. Even +a big cushion is wobbly,” finished Cora. “Now, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +young ladies, are you ready for a tramp? We +have to walk to the old village this morning to +shop, unless you want to go to the dock and take +Frank’s ferry. He will take us across for ten +cents each, and we need things to eat.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, do let us walk,” begged Bess. “I haven’t +seen half the things that grow around here.” +</p> +<p>“Do <i>you</i> grow around here?” asked Belle, +maliciously, inferring that the desired walk was +needed to “reduce.” A withering look was the +answer she received from her twin sister. Just +the same the walk was decided upon, and a little +later the wintergreen path was alive with voices. +It was one of the delights of Summer to tramp and +ramble; and in spite of the joys of motor boating +the girls were not slow to appreciate the pleasures +of dry land decked in various shades of foliage +green and floral tints. +</p> +<p>The mountain laurel was at its best—that little +tasselled thing we call “pfingster,” but which +looks quite aristocratic enough to belong to the +orchid family, made bouquets of itself in every appropriate +spot, while the glorious rhododendrons +put forth a display sufficiently beautiful and courageous +to last all Summer. +</p> +<p>“Oh, my, look at the style!” Lottie exclaimed +as a party of young folks appeared before them. +They were evidently coming from the Cliff Hotel, +and made the most of that fact. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span></p> +<p>“There’s Hilda Hastings!” Cora said, in surprise. +“I didn’t know she was down here.” +</p> +<p>A remarkably pretty girl, light-haired and wearing +lilac shades, with a parasol that reflected that +becoming tint, was Hilda. She evidently saw, and +recognized Cora just as the latter spied her. +</p> +<p>“Cora Kimball!” cried Hilda, in the delighted +way that usually marks a meeting with a home +friend in the midst of vacation time. “Where did +you come from?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, Hilda!” answered Cora, advancing to +meet the girl who almost ran to greet her, “I am +so glad to see you. We are stopping at our own +little bunk—the Motely Mote—on Pine Shade +Way. And where do you put up?” +</p> +<p>Introductions followed, and girls from the +Mote were plainly delighted to meet the others +from a fashionable hotel. The meeting also resulted +in a general invitation from the Cliff girls +to the Motes to attend a hop to be given the next +evening at the hotel. +</p> +<p>“And do bring every boy you can scrape up,” +Hilda enjoined. “We shall be sure to need them.” +</p> +<p>“What dress?” asked Lottie the Vain. +</p> +<p>“Linen or lace, doesn’t matter in the least,” declared +a young girl whom they called Madge. +“We will wear whatever we fall into for dinner.” +</p> +<p>“All right,” answered Lottie for all, fluttering +at the prospect of a real hotel hop. “We will +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +wear whatever we may find pressable—we have +the awfullest time with wrinkles down here.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t mind them,” answered Hilda. “Wrinkled +clothes are a seaside fad, you know. If you +have none you will be suspected of being the Press +Club Trust. That’s a clothing club—not literary.” +</p> +<p>With other pleasantries the two sets parted, +but not until all sorts of invitations to come and +visit had been extended and accepted. +</p> +<p>“What nice girls,” the timid Marita remarked +as the fashionable ones turned into the lane. +“Isn’t Hilda pretty? Are they from Chelton?” +</p> +<p>“She is and they are,” answered Cora. “But +I do not see how we are going to that hop. The +boys were going to take us out in a sail boat, you +know.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I would be frightened to death in a sail +boat,” objected Lottie. +</p> +<p>“And perfectly safe in a canoe,” observed +Belle. “Charlotte, that is scarcely understandable.” +</p> +<p>“Well,” said Lottie, turning a deeper shade of +pink, “I am afraid of that big pole in a sail boat. +It looks as if it would sweep one’s head off every +time it veers around.” +</p> +<p>“Just duck,” advised Belle. “It’s a great +teacher of the proper mode of ducking; and that +is not to be despised, Lottie, whether one has to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +duck harsh words, or big poles. But I want to go +sailing. I can’t see what fun there is in going into +a stuffy hotel on a beautiful moonlight evening +when we can go out on the water and see something.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t you think we would see something in +the Cliff ball room?” challenged Lottie. +</p> +<p>“Peace!” called Cora, good-naturedly. “It +looks as if we might have to take a vote on the +question. But I can’t say that the boys would be +willing to accept a negative answer.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, won’t they come?” Lottie asked in surprise. +</p> +<p>“I don’t believe they will forego the sail,” replied +Cora. “However, we won’t decide until we +ask them. If they want to postpone the water +sport we may take in the hop.” +</p> +<p>This was looked upon as a reasonable solution +of the problem, and while some of the girls hoped +for the sail, perhaps an equal number wished to +go to the dance. +</p> +<p>It was a delightful morning, and the woods +were fairly alive with young folk. It seemed +there could be very few mothers or chaperones at +Crystal Bay, for even in marketing hours it was +always the girls with baskets, or the boys with +huge paper bags, who were encountered. On +benches along the beach, to be sure, “elders” +might be found sunning themselves and ruining +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +their fading sight with alleged art embroideries, +but in the matter of housekeeping it was youth +that prevailed at the bay. +</p> +<p>It was a long walk to the general store at the +point, but there was a resting place there, and if +one wanted to tarry and felt like dancing, a very +accommodating young man sat near the piano +ready to play at the shortest notice. Belle and +Lottie usually took a twirl while Bess and Cora +did the shopping, but to-day having walked instead +of coming by motor boat they sank into a seat at +the water’s edge and watched others try the newest +steps. +</p> +<p>Around the drug counter a number of men were +engaged in earnest conversation with the salesman. +Belle needed cold cream and was waiting +her turn to tell the clerk so. +</p> +<p>“We just about have it,” said one man to the +man behind the counter. “There is no question +about the legal right; it is only a matter of a lost +document. We may get along without it, but we +understood you were a life-long resident, knew the +people, and thought perhaps you could tell us +something about it. Of course we don’t want anyone’s +time for nothing.” +</p> +<p>The clerk scratched his head and looked over +his glasses. The scale was tipping with white +stuff and a customer was waiting. +</p> +<p>“That may be so,” he replied, slowly, “but I +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +should think, young fellow, that them folks themselves +would know more about their own business +than anyone else. Why don’t you go to them?” +</p> +<p>“Do you think for a moment that anyone is +going to do themselves out of house and home like +that?” asked the taller man, angrily. +</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s the game; is it? Well, see here! +Do you think for one moment that I, Bill Sparks, +am going to do a poor widow out of house and +home to suit you!” +</p> +<p>He had raised his voice to angry tones, a remarkable +thing for Bill to do in business hours, +but those around who heard had no blame for +him. The strangers left without taking up their +cigars or paying for them. Bill looked after them +quizzically. +</p> +<p>“That’s the way to answer that sort,” he remarked +to no one in particular. “Too many of +them speculators around the bay, lately. Cold +cream?” he inquired of Bess. +</p> +<p>Cora had seen the men, although she was in +the grocery department, and when Bess told her +what she had overheard she looked troubled. +</p> +<p>“We must not put that off another day,” she +told Bess. “I am convinced that those men are +dishonest, for why should they go sneaking around +that way? Why not ask for information from the +proper persons?” +</p> +<p>Scarcely had she spoken than Mrs. Lewis and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +Freda appeared in the doorway that led from the +boat landing. Freda’s face was flushed, and Mrs. +Lewis’s was pale. +</p> +<p>“What is it?” Cora asked, hurrying up to +them. +</p> +<p>“They have started a mill dam across the +creek,” replied Freda. “If they turn that water +into use for mill purposes the whole shore of the +bay will be ruined!” +</p> +<p>“Don’t go so fast, daughter,” urged Mrs. +Lewis. “We can stop them; we must get a lawyer +at once.” +</p> +<p>“Of course,” answered Cora, “I think they +call it an injunction, or restraining papers. Who +is your lawyer, Mrs. Lewis?” +</p> +<p>“We haven’t any,” Freda replied for her +mother. “We were told if we engaged counsel +they would eat up the whole thing. Oh, isn’t it +dreadful!” and the brave Freda was on the verge +of tears. +</p> +<p>“I’ll see Jack at once,” declared Cora, “and +if there are not trustworthy lawyers here we will +fetch our own down from Chelton. The senior +member of the firm would do anything reasonable +for our family, and when mother is away she +leaves Jack and me full discretion. Let us hurry +back before the boys get out on the water. Bess, +call Belle and Lottie.” +</p> +<p>The look of relief that spread over the widow’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +face was a more eloquent form of thanks +than words could have been, so without further +delay they all hurried to the motor boat in which +Mrs. Lewis and Freda had come over. It was +from a bay front hotel and had come over for the +eleven o’clock mail. +</p> +<p>The boy at the wheel started up as soon as all +were seated, and as the launch was a good-sized +one the trip across the bay was both comfortable +and enjoyable. Of course Belle and Lottie wanted +to know more than they could be told about the +coming of Freda and Mrs. Lewis, so they had to +content themselves with a word and a look from +Cora. +</p> +<p>The boys were at the landing as the boat came +in. This was exactly what Cora had wished for. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XV_AN_ALARM' id='XV_AN_ALARM'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>AN ALARM</h3> +</div> + +<p>“I will go to Lamberton this afternoon,” declared +Mrs. Lewis, after having conferred with +Cora and Jack. “I know a man there who was +a great friend of my husband. He told me to +come to him any time I needed advice, and he is +a prominent lawyer. I have never troubled him—had +no good cause to until now.” +</p> +<p>“I think that would be a good plan,” Jack +agreed. “I fancy as soon as we come down on +those fellows good and hard, they will be forced +to show their hand.” +</p> +<p>So it was arranged that Mrs. Lewis should go +to the town, some twenty-five miles away. +</p> +<p>“And Freda,” she said, “don’t worry if I am +not back until the last train, for if he should happen +to be in New York I will wait for him.” +</p> +<p>“Be careful of that cut in the old road,” Freda +warned. “Mother, you know it is always dark +through there, even in broad daylight, and after +dark it is pitchy.” +</p> +<p>“I can’t get any train until one o’clock,” went +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +on Mrs. Lewis, “so, Freda, we will hurry back to +the bungalow and leave everything ready for tea. +We can prepare things while the girls are lunching.” +</p> +<p>“Now, you needn’t do anything of the kind,” +objected Cora, “we girls can well enough take +care of ourselves once in a while. Why, Mrs. +Lewis, you have us all spoiled. We are supposed +to do most of our own housekeeping in Summer +camp, you know.” +</p> +<p>“Indeed, you do that now,” returned Mrs. +Lewis, who was more than grateful for the opportunity +for work that Cora had afforded to her. +“I like housekeeping when there is someone to +keep for.” +</p> +<p>“You had Freda,” Jack reminded her. +</p> +<p>“And she wouldn’t let me do enough to keep +in practice,” replied Mrs. Lewis. “Here we are, +and the young ladies are stringing beans!” +</p> +<p>“Now that is what I call sweet of you,” Jack +observed as he greeted the four girls, all seated +around a low porch table with knives and beans +plying from basket to pan. “Who told you we +were coming to dine?” +</p> +<p>“You positively are not, Brother Jack,” Cora +declared. “You boys think our place is an elastic +delicatessen. Why, we never know whether we +are going to have enough for another meal or not, +and we can’t go to the point again to-day.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></p> +<p>“All right, Little Sister. If you have the heart +to eat good string beans from old Henry’s garden, +and know that your brother is starving for a single +spoonful, just go ahead. They will rest heavy +on your heart, though. I warn you.” +</p> +<p>“You may help!” offered Lottie. “Just take +that paper bag and scoop up the ends. Bess spilled +them.” +</p> +<p>“I absolutely refuse,” replied Jack, haughtily, +“to be a scraper-up for such mean people. No, +sir! I have just been manicured,” and he gazed +lovingly at his much-neglected hands. +</p> +<p>“It does seem as if all we do is to get ready +to eat and then eat,” said Belle with a sigh. “I +would never keep house for myself if I starved. +At least, I would manage on fewer meals. We +have only been to the point since breakfast and +now it is time to eat again.” +</p> +<p>Cora had gone in with Freda and Mrs. Lewis +and very soon afterward luncheon was announced—the +beans were laid over for the evening meal. +Jack stayed, of course, and wondered (so he said) +why the other fellows did not come in search of +him. +</p> +<p>An hour or two later Mrs. Lewis hurried off to +the little station, after promising Freda that she +would be most careful of the dark road known as +the “Cut.” +</p> +<p>“For, Mother dear,” warned Freda, “I do +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +believe those land sharks would do almost anything +to scare the information out of us. They +have threatened to have it at any cost, you know.” +</p> +<p>“Oh! I am surprised at you being so nervous, +dear,” replied the mother, kissing Freda reassuringly. +“I never felt less nervous. In fact, I think +now things will soon be righted. Good-bye, dear. +And have a good time with your friends.” +</p> +<p>Freda watched the little woman step lightly +away over the white path. Then, with a sigh, she +turned back to the bungalow. +</p> +<p>“Freda! Freda!” called Bess. “You have not +eaten yet, and I’m to do the dishes. Hurry this +minute and just fill up! I must be finished in +time for a nap, for I am nearly dead.” +</p> +<p>Freda did eat, though somehow she felt unusually +depressed. Even Cora’s encouraging words, +given into Freda’s ear when no one else was at +hand, did not seem to cheer her. +</p> +<p>“Just come down to the bay and go out with +me,” urged Cora. “I want to try the boat with +the new control, and I don’t want to go out +alone!” +</p> +<p>“Of course I will go with you,” assented Freda. +“I have only to change my blouse.” +</p> +<p>The motor trip was delightful. The <i>Chelton</i> +seemed to have missed the guiding hand of its +fair owner, for while the new piece of mechanism +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +was being put in Cora had not been using the +boat. +</p> +<p>“How different from the one we rode in this +morning,” Freda remarked. “I always feel as if +something were going to explode when I sit near +a noise such as that old engine made. I wonder +that a big house like the Laurel can keep such a +tub.” +</p> +<p>“Guests are always glad to get on the water,” +answered Cora, “and I suppose they are not particular +as long as they do not have to pay extra +for the sail. Most of the hotels down here hire +out their launches, I believe.” +</p> +<p>They headed straight for the island, and then +ran around it to come back on the east shore. In +many of the passing boats were young friends of +Cora, and all sorts of messages were shouted back +and forth. +</p> +<p>“I guess I had better go in early,” Cora remarked, +“as we really have not decided on this +evening’s plans. Some want the hop and others +want the sail.” +</p> +<p>“And I have a lot to do, too,” Freda said. +“Mother and I have to take so much time from +what we would like to do for you girls.” +</p> +<p>Cora protested against this, of course, declaring +that the girls never had such help before, and +regretting that Freda should take the matter so +seriously. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></p> +<p>“I cannot get over the attempt to rob Denny,” +Cora went on, as they neared the bungalow. “I +am glad they chose a time when he was not +around, for he would certainly fight. He thinks +he has the same strength he enjoyed years ago, +and I hate to think what might have happened +had he met those fellows.” +</p> +<p>“Wasn’t it awful?” commented Freda. “And +to think that it must have been on our account, for +I am convinced that those men were searching for +papers they believe Denny has.” +</p> +<p>“No doubt about it,” said Cora. “But he has +none; has he?” +</p> +<p>“He has never mentioned such a thing, and +with us worrying as we are, I am sure that if he +had any of our papers he would show them to +mother. I know my grandfather trusted him more +than he even trusted my father, his own son; but +that is easy to understand, for Denny had settled +for life here, near the property, while father was +likely to go to any part of the world, had he +lived. He always wanted to travel.” +</p> +<p>“This is a splendid afternoon to write letters,” +Cora remarked, “and I owe a very long one to +mother. That, at least, I will get off on the last +mail.” +</p> +<p>“I have some to write, too,” Freda rejoined. +“I had that very task in mind. I have to write to +those ‘in-laws’ I interviewed last week. They +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +will think I am very ungrateful not to have written +since my return. So long,” she called out cheerily. +“I hope when mother comes back we will all have +cause to rejoice. That friend of father’s is a very +good lawyer.” +</p> +<p>“But he may not be able to say much until +he has had a chance to look into the case,” said +prudent Cora. “We must not expect results so +soon.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I do,” persisted Freda. “I know when +he hears all that mother has to tell him he will +be able to say something quite definite.” +</p> +<p>So the girls parted, Cora to go to her letter +writing, and Freda to hers. It seemed the entire +household at the Mote was very busy that afternoon, +some resting for the evening, others arranging +the fussy trifles so important to young +girls. +</p> +<p>It was getting dark when Freda came out at +the side porch and looked anxiously down the +road. +</p> +<p>“Mother should have come on that train,” she +told herself. Then she waited to hear the train +pass at the second crossing. “She would be on +her way up now if she came,” Freda reflected, +“I’ll get my things on and go to meet her.” +</p> +<p>Coming down the stairs she called Cora, but +receiving no reply she did not wait to find her. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +She expected to be gone only a few minutes and it +was not worth while to wait to tell Cora where +she was going. +</p> +<p>The dusk came down quickly. Even as Freda +passed under the big elm tree she could not see +the moss at its trunk. +</p> +<p>She hastened on, and was almost startled into +a scream as she heard a noise. It was but the +tinkle of a bell. +</p> +<p>“Someone on a bicycle!” exclaimed Freda, in +relief. +</p> +<p>The bell tinkled again, and through an opening +in the trees she caught a glimpse of the messenger +boy from the railroad station. He saw her and +called: +</p> +<p>“A message for you!” +</p> +<p>“A message for me?” she repeated in surprise. +“Who can it be from?” At once she thought of +her mother. +</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” answered the lad. “Mr. +Burke, at the station, took it over the telephone, +and wrote it out. Here it is,” and he held up an +envelope. “It’s all paid, and you don’t have to +sign the book; it isn’t a regular telegram.” +</p> +<p>With trembling fingers Freda tore open the envelope. +There was a single slip of paper inside +and on it was written in the hand of the station +agent: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></p> +<p>“If you would do your mother a service come +to Wickford Junction at once.” +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>“Wickford Junction!” gasped Freda, as the +messenger boy rode away. “Why, how did +mother get there? That’s in the opposite direction +from Lamberton. Oh, there must have been +some accident, and she has been taken there! I +must go to her!” +</p> +<p>Hastily Freda looked in her purse. She had +barely money enough for the ticket, but she would +go. On eager and anxious feet she sped toward +the railroad depot. It was getting much darker. +</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Burke!” Freda gasped, when she +saw the agent behind his little wicket gate, “I’ve +got to go to Wickford Junction. Mother is there.” +</p> +<p>“She is, Freda? Why I sold her a ticket to +Lamberton this morning.” +</p> +<p>“I know. But there must have been some accident. +I just got a message from Wickford +Junction.” +</p> +<p>“I know, for I wrote it down. The person +wouldn’t give any name, but I’m sure it wasn’t +your mother.” +</p> +<p>“No, it couldn’t have been! She’s hurt!” +</p> +<p>“Hurt?” +</p> +<p>“Well, of course I’m not sure, but I fear she +is. She must have told someone to send it. I’ve +got to go. How much is a ticket?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p> +<p>“Eighty-five cents. The train’s due now. +There she comes,” he added, as a distant whistle +sounded. +</p> +<p>Freda had barely time to get her ticket and hurry +aboard. +</p> +<p>“Don’t worry,” the agent called out to her. +“There hasn’t been any accident, or I’d have +heard of it.” +</p> +<p>But Freda did worry. All the way in the train +she was a prey to nervous fears, and when the +Junction was finally reached she was hardly able +to keep up. +</p> +<p>But there was no sign of an accident, and her +mother was not there when she alighted—the only +passenger to get off. +</p> +<p>Wickford Junction was hardly more than a +flag station, and there was an agent there only +part of the time. He was not there now, but in +the dingy waiting room, where Freda went to +make inquiries, she found a shabbily dressed +woman. +</p> +<p>“Are you Freda Lewis?” the latter asked, +starting forward. +</p> +<p>“Yes, I am. But how did you know? Where +is my mother? Did you send me a message? Oh, +tell me quickly, please!” +</p> +<p>“Now, dearie, don’t get excited,” soothed the +woman in accents that only made Freda worry +more. “It will be all right. I sent for you to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +come here because I wanted to have a chance to +talk to you alone. Now if you’ll sit down——” +</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” asked Freda, quickly. +“I don’t know you. What do you want?” +</p> +<p>“Just to have a little talk with you. I thought +it better to take this means than to go to your +house. Sit down. You and your mother are trying +to establish a claim to some property; aren’t +you?” +</p> +<p>“Yes, that is well known. But what do +you——” +</p> +<p>“Never mind about that. I will tell you all in +due time. Have you any papers to prove your +claim?” +</p> +<p>“Any papers?” asked Freda, suspiciously. +</p> +<p>“Yes—deeds, mortgages or the like. I have +studied law, and I may be able to help you. I +have had experience in many disputed claims.” +</p> +<p>“We don’t know where——” Freda was about +to say that they did not know where the papers +were, when she thought better of it. Was it right +to confide thus in a stranger? +</p> +<p>“Now, dearie, tell me everything,” said the +woman. “You can trust me. Or, better still, if +you will come with me to the country hotel where +I am stopping we will not be disturbed. Better +come with me,” and in her eagerness she caught +Freda by the arm. +</p> +<p>“No, no! I’ll not go!” gasped the girl. “I +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +want to find my mother. Who are you, and why +do you ask me these questions? Did you send me +that false message? What was your purpose in +so deceiving me?” +</p> +<p>“I did not deceive you!” replied the woman, +sharply. “It was for the good of your mother +that I asked you to meet me here. I will explain +all to you later, but not here. I can do you good. +Only trust me. Come with me. I have a carriage +waiting outside.” +</p> +<p>Again she caught Freda’s arm. +</p> +<p>Then the harassed and nervous girl burst into +tears. A kindly-faced hack driver, waiting outside +in the hope of having some belated traveler +hire him, heard. Dick Bently was a benevolent +sort of chap, with daughters of his own. Hearing +a girl crying he went into the depot. +</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Miss?” he asked, and his +tone was reassuring. +</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s my mother!” gasped Freda. “She +isn’t here, and this—this person sent me a message——” +</p> +<p>“It was for your good, my dear,” interrupted +the strange woman, with an evil smile. “I’m trying +to settle that property matter for you, my +dearie!” +</p> +<p>“Who are you, anyhow?” asked Dick belligerently. +He did not like the appearance of the +woman, nor her tone. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></p> +<p>“It is not necessary for me to tell you anything,” +she replied, with assumed dignity. “If +I am not wanted, I will go.” +</p> +<p>“Maybe it would be better,” said the hackman. +“Now, can I help you, young lady?” he asked +kindly, as the woman hurried off. +</p> +<p>“I only want to go home to Crystal Bay, and +to my mother,” said Freda, and she briefly explained +the circumstances. +</p> +<p>“Well, it’s too bad, but I’m afraid you can’t get +back to Crystal Bay to-night,” declared the hackman. +“The last train has gone.” +</p> +<p>“The last train gone!” gasped Freda. “Oh, +what am I to do?” +</p> +<p>“Now don’t you worry a mite,” replied Dick. +“I’ll just take you home to my wife, and she’ll +look after you. Don’t you worry,” and, after +some persuasion he prevailed on Freda to go in +his ramshackle rig to his home, where she was +kindly received by his wife. +</p> +<p>“I’ll go back to the station to meet the express +that sometimes stops at the Junction,” explained +Dick, “and, Miss, if there come any inquiries for +you I’ll tell where you are. But you’ll have to stay +with us till mornin’, I reckon.” +</p> +<p>Freda’s mind was easier now, but she could not +imagine what had been the object of the strange +woman, nor why she had sent the telegram. +</p> +<p>Meanwhile, back in the bungalow, there was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +much alarm when Freda was missed. And when +her mother came home safely, and found her +daughter gone, she almost collapsed. +</p> +<p>“Where can she have gone?” she wailed. +</p> +<p>Hasty inquiries were made, and one of the boatmen +told of having seen Freda start out through +the woods, and meet the station messenger boy. +After that it was easy to trace her. +</p> +<p>Mr. Burke told of the ’phone message, and of +having seen Freda board the train for the Junction. +</p> +<p>And then a new difficulty arose. There was no +train to the Junction that night; but Mrs. Lewis +was in such a state that nothing short of a visit to +the place would satisfy her. There was no telephone +available then, the Junction station being +closed. +</p> +<p>Cora solved the trouble. +</p> +<p>“We can go to Hartford in our boat,” she said, +“and from there it is only a short trip to the +Junction. We could hire an auto.” +</p> +<p>This was done. In the <i>Chelton</i>, the motor girls +and the boys went to Hartford, making good +time in getting there. A neighbor came over to +the bungalow to stay with Mrs. Lewis, who grew +more alarmed as the night deepened. +</p> +<p>The trip by auto, which was taken only by Jack, +Cora and the chauffeur, was marked by the mishap +of a blown-out tire, but that was all. When the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +Junction was finally reached, there, true to his +promise, was the hackman, and to Cora’s excited +inquiries he gave reassuring answers. +</p> +<p>Yes, Freda was all right, and safe at his house. +He directed Jack and Cora there, and soon all +were reunited. Then explanations were offered, +Freda’s fears about her mother were quieted, and +the trip back to Hartford made, where the motor +boat party was anxiously waiting. +</p> +<p>“And now for the bungalow!” sighed Cora, as +she took her place at the familiar wheel. A little +later it was reached, and mother and daughter +were together again telling their stories, and speculating +much about Freda’s strange message and +the mysterious woman. But the puzzle could not +be solved. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVI_A_BAD_CASE_OF_NERVES' id='XVI_A_BAD_CASE_OF_NERVES'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>A BAD CASE OF NERVES</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Would the boys have anything in their camp, +do you suppose?” asked Bess, with a long sigh. +</p> +<p>“Anything for what?” asked Lottie, as she +looked surreptitiously into the mirror of her vanity +box. Lottie was always worried about the effect +of late hours. +</p> +<p>“Is it something to eat?” asked Marita in her +timid way. “If you want that, Bess, I’ll go over +and help you carry it.” +</p> +<p>“Gracious, I hope we don’t need anything in +the food line,” said Cora. “I thought we stocked +up with enough to last the rest of the week.” +</p> +<p>“I want something for my nerves,” went on +Bess. “They’re on the ragged edge, and I jump +at every sound.” +</p> +<p>“And no wonder,” agreed Belle, as she went +over to a hammock suspended between two trees. +“Get something for mine, while you’re at it, Bess. +I think they use bromide, or something like that. +But I doubt if the boys would have any. They +don’t seem to have a nerve in their bodies, though +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +goodness knows they’re ‘nervy’ enough at other +times. Pardon the colloquialism,” she murmured +as she sank back. +</p> +<p>It was the morning after Freda’s return, and +the night had been rather a troubled one. No +one in the girls’ camp felt much like eating breakfast, +though they managed to nibble at a bit of +toast and drink some coffee. +</p> +<p>The alarm about Freda had giver the motor +girls the keenest anxiety, and while Jack and the +boys tried to make Freda and the girls believe the +woman and the telephone message had been a +joke, it looked to be too serious a matter to be +lightly passed off. +</p> +<p>The odd woman who had met Freda at the +country junction had shown, by her questions, that +she knew much about the disputed property. And +her manner had been, in a way, rather threatening. +It was too unusual to have been accidental, at any +rate. +</p> +<p>But Freda had reached home in safety. The +motor girls were glad of that, but they were all +suffering from a bad case of nerves, though, so +far, Bess and Belle had been the only ones to +admit it openly. +</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t take any of that bromide, if I +were you, Bess,” said Cora, as she straightened +out some of the things in the living room. The +usually homelike apartment had taken on a most +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +woebegone appearance since the previous night. +Everyone had left everything just where she had +happened to let it fall. +</p> +<p>“But I’ve got to do something!” declared the +plump twin. “My hand shakes—see, I can’t hold +it still,” and in proof she held it out. +</p> +<p>“It does shake,” spoke Marita, in an awed +whisper. “Maybe she had better have a doctor.” +</p> +<p>“Doctor! Nonsense!” laughed Belle. “Her +hand trembles because she had her arm up so long +this morning, trying to do her hair up that new +way. Sit down, Bess, and you’ll be all right in a +few minutes.” +</p> +<p>“But I can’t sit still, that’s the trouble. I’m +so nervous!” and Bess hastily arose from a chair +in which she had seated herself, and began pacing +up and down the broad bungalow porch. +</p> +<p>“I have an idea!” exclaimed Cora. +</p> +<p>“Don’t let it die of lonesomeness,” suggested +Belle, with a laugh. “Think up another and have +a pair of ideas.” +</p> +<p>“I will,” replied Cora, promptly. “I think if +we go out for a little spin in the boat it will do us +all good. It’s a lovely day—too lovely to let our +nerves get the best of us. What do you say?” +</p> +<p>“I’ll do anything rather than sit here and think +of what might have happened,” sighed Bess. +</p> +<p>“Oh, you’re taking it entirely too seriously,” +put in Lottie, as she used a buffer on her already +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +pink and polished nails. “What could have happened?” +</p> +<p>“Why, they might have taken Freda away!” +</p> +<p>“Who would?” +</p> +<p>“Those persons—men or women—or both—who +are trying to get possession of the Lewis +property. And, in a way, we might have been involved,” +went on Bess. +</p> +<p>“I don’t see how,” observed Cora. +</p> +<p>“Why, we’ve given advice to Freda and her +mother, and if things went wrong some persons +might say we had an object in it.” +</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” exclaimed Belle. “You’ve surely +got a case of nerves, all right. Come on, let’s do +as Cora says and take a trip on the water.” She +got out of the hammock—Belle could accomplish +this difficult feat more gracefully than anyone else, +Cora always said. +</p> +<p>Then they all went down to the little dock where +the <i>Chelton</i> was tied, and Cora, with a quickness +born of long experience, ascertained that there +was plenty of gasoline and oil in the craft. She +tested the vibrator and found the current good, +though at times, when not suffering from a fit of +stubbornness, the engine had been known to start +with the magneto. But it was not safe to depend +on it. +</p> +<p>“Are you all ready?” asked Cora. +</p> +<p>“I guess so,” answered Bess. “I guess I won’t +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +have to have bromide, after all. I feel better +already.” +</p> +<p>“I thought you would,” laughed Cora. +“Marita, just straighten out that stern flag, will +you? Thank you. You’re a dear!” +</p> +<p>“Look out!” laughed Belle. “When Cora +begins calling names there is no telling when she +will stop.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t worry,” was Cora’s answer, as she +stooped over to crank the motor. It started on +the first turn and soon the <i>Chelton</i> was chugging +a course over the sun-lit waters of Crystal Bay. +</p> +<p>“Do you see anything of the boys?” asked +Cora, as she turned to the others from her place +at the steering wheel. +</p> +<p>“No, there’s their boat—at least Jack’s +apology for one—tied to the stake,” said Lottie. +“Does that boat ever go out two days in succession, +Cora?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t believe it does,” answered Jack’s sister. +“It was a sort of makeshift, anyhow. Jack only +got her running because someone said it couldn’t +be done—it was a sort of dare. But the poor old +boat seems to suffer from some intermittent fever. +It runs one day and rests the next.” +</p> +<p>“And the <i>Dixie</i>—she’s resting, too,” went on +Bess, as she looked down the bay to where Dray +Ward’s fine racing craft was moored. “The boys +are not around yet.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></p> +<p>“Probably sleeping,” murmured Belle. “The +indolent creatures!” +</p> +<p>“Folks who live in glass houses—and all the +rest of it,” said Cora. “It’s nearly eleven, and we +haven’t been long away from the breakfast table +ourselves.” +</p> +<p>“It’s a case of carrying coals to Newcastle; +isn’t it?” asked Lottie, drying with her filmy handkerchief +a drop of water on her dress. +</p> +<p>“You mean the pot calling the kettle black,” +laughed Cora. Lottie never could get her proverbs +just right. +</p> +<p>“Oh, well, it’s all the same as long as there’s +black in it,” responded Lottie. “I knew I had +part of it right.” +</p> +<p>On went the <i>Chelton</i>, and she had that part of +the bay all to herself for the time being. A little +breeze ruffled the water, and the sun shone +brightly. Under these calming influences of +nature the girls—even nervous Bess—felt themselves +growing calm, and at peace with the world. +The trouble of the night before seemed to melt +away, and assume a less sinister aspect. But Cora +could not get over the feeling that something akin +to a tragedy had nearly happened. +</p> +<p>“And it may again,” she thought. “I do wish +we could help Freda and her mother, but I don’t +see how. Land troubles are always so complicated.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></p> +<p>As Cora turned the wheel and swung the boat +about in a wide circle, she was aware of another +craft coming toward her. She did not remember +having seen it before, and as it drew nearer she +noted that it contained but a single occupant—a +young man, who, as Lottie said afterward, was not +at all bad-looking. +</p> +<p>The young fellow guided his boat closer to the +<i>Chelton</i>, and after she had done making mental +notes of the new craft’s characteristics, Cora had +an idea that the stranger wanted to speak to them. +Such evidently was his intention, for he slowed +down his engine, so as to muffle the noise of the +exhaust, and called out: +</p> +<p>“On which point is Bayhead, if you please?” +</p> +<p>“Over there,” answered Cora, pointing to a +promontory that jutted out into the bay. “But be +careful and go well out when you round it. There +are some dangerous rocks at low tide. How much +do you draw?” +</p> +<p>“Thirty-four inches.” +</p> +<p>“That’s too much to try the short cut.” +</p> +<p>“Thank you for telling me,” went on the young +man. He certainly was good-looking. Even +Cora, conservative as she always was, had to +admit that. +</p> +<p>“We are going over that way,” went on Cora. +“If you like, I will pilot you.” +</p> +<p>“You are very good,” returned the young man. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +“If it will not be too much trouble, and not take +you out of your way, I would like very much to +have you show me the course. I’m a stranger +here.” +</p> +<p>Cora and the motor girls had been on so many +trips on land and water that they had learned how +to meet and accept the advances of strangers, even +when they were good-looking young men. There +was, too, a sort of comradeship about a motor +boat that lent a chaperonage to the effect of girls +talking to men to whom they had never been introduced. +Cora’s chums realized this and thought +nothing of her offer. +</p> +<p>“Follow me,” Cora called, as she opened the +throttle a little wider, and the <i>Chelton</i> shot ahead. +The other boat came right after, with a promptness +that caused Cora to think it had more speed +than she at first suspected. +</p> +<p>“My nerves are much better—now,” said Bess +in a whisper to Lottie, as she stole a surreptitious +glance at the young man. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVII_A_LITTLE_RACE' id='XVII_A_LITTLE_RACE'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>A LITTLE RACE</h3> +</div> + +<p>For some time Cora held the lead in her boat, +with the other following in her wake. The girls +talked among themselves, speculation being rife +as to what the young man wanted in Bayhead. +</p> +<p>“It’s an awfully swell place,” said Lottie. “I +spent one Summer there, and it was nothing but +dress, dress, dress all the while! Either for motoring, +tennis or bridge. Oh, I got so weary of it!” +</p> +<p>“But you liked it—especially the dressing,” put +in Belle. +</p> +<p>“I should have, my dear, I don’t mind admitting +that, if only I had had enough gowns,” went +on Lottie, with a sigh. “But I didn’t have half +enough. Papa was dreadfully poor that year. I +believe he said there had been a ‘slump in the +market,’ whatever that means. +</p> +<p>“Anyhow I know I couldn’t begin to dress as +those in my set did. So that’s how I remember +Bayhead. I should like to go there again. It’s +perfectly stunning.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></p> +<p>“That young fellow doesn’t look to be any too +well dressed,” remarked Bess. +</p> +<p>“Naturally he wouldn’t—going out in a boat,” +said Cora. “Something seems to be the matter +with his engine,” she added, for the stranger was +bending over it. +</p> +<p>Whatever it was did not seem to be serious, for +the lone motorboatist straightened up again presently. +He increased his speed, and came alongside +the <i>Chelton</i>. +</p> +<p>“We seem to be some distance from the point,” +he said, with a smile. “Don’t you want a little +race? You can call it off before we get near the +danger spot.” +</p> +<p>Cora was rather taken aback by the proposal. +It was one thing to direct a stranger, even when +he was a youth good to look at, and it was all +right, too, to even pilot him on his way in strange +waters; but it was quite another matter to have the +aforesaid stranger invite himself to a race. It +was like having a beggar apply at your front door, +and when given a sandwich, calmly ask for soup. +</p> +<p>“I don’t believe——” began Cora, but Bess +slid up to her on the long seat and whispered: +</p> +<p>“Oh, do, Cora! It won’t do any harm, and it +will complete the nerve cure you have begun so +well. Besides, we need a little practice in racing. +We may take part in the water carnival down +here.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></p> +<p>“Well, if the rest of you are willing, I’m not +going to be the one to object,” returned Cora, +smilingly. +</p> +<p>“Will—will it be dangerous?” faltered timid +Marita. +</p> +<p>“Not a bit—you dear little goose!” exclaimed +Belle, putting her arm about the shrinking one. +“We’ve raced lots of times—and won, too!” +</p> +<p>“Against such appealing strangers?” asked +Lottie, raising her eyebrows in a rather affected +way. +</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s all in the game!” laughed Bess. Certainly +her nerves seemed all right now. +</p> +<p>The young man—he had refrained from +giving his name, either by accident or design—had +been bending over his motor during the whispered +talk among the girls. Now he looked up +again. +</p> +<p>“Well,” he asked, pleasantly, “is it to be a +race?” +</p> +<p>“If you like,” answered Cora, calmly. +</p> +<p>“I certainly do like. I’m going to enter some +of the Bayhead races, and I’d like to see how my +boat will go.” +</p> +<p>“But it’s a lighter boat than ours,” returned +Cora, who was not willing to give nor take an +unfair advantage. “And we have five passengers.” +</p> +<p>“I’ve thought of that,” the young man went on. +“I’m willing to accept a handicap. I’ll drop back +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +about five hundred feet and allow you that much.” +</p> +<p>“That would be fair,” assented Cora, who, +from having taken part in various races knew +what would be about right. +</p> +<p>“Then here goes!” cried the stranger, as he +throttled down his motor. “I’ll give you a hail +when I’m coming on.” +</p> +<p>The <i>Chelton</i> at once began drawing away from +the <i>Pickerel</i>, which was the name of the stranger’s +boat. +</p> +<p>This craft, it seemed, had a clutch arrangement, +so that the motor could be allowed to run without +the propeller revolving. Cora’s boat was likewise +equipped. +</p> +<p>“Are you going to beat him?” asked Lottie, as +she moved back where no drop of spray could spot +her blue dress. +</p> +<p>“I am certainly going to try,” said Cora with a +smile. “What does a race amount to if you don’t +try to win?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, of course, but then I thought this was +only in fun.” +</p> +<p>“It’s a race for keeps,” announced Cora. “And +I think we’ll win. That last gasoline we got is the +best we ever had. It gives us more power, and the +<i>Chelton</i> is running like a sewing machine, as Jack +says. I think we’re going to win!” +</p> +<p>She opened the throttle a little wider and the +<i>Chelton</i> responded instantly. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></p> +<p>A moment later there came a hail from the rear. +</p> +<p>“Distance enough! I’m coming!” +</p> +<p>Cora glanced back. +</p> +<p>“He certainly was generous,” she said. “That’s +a good five hundred feet.” +</p> +<p>“He looks like a generous chap,” murmured +Lottie. She was again polishing her nails. Possibly +she thought she might be introduced to the +stranger, later on. +</p> +<p>There was the sound of a louder exhaust from +the boat astern. The young man evidently was +going to try his best to win. +</p> +<p>But Cora had no intention of letting him do so. +She had shrewdly estimated the ability of his boat, +as well as she could, though of course it was difficult, +in the case of a craft she had never before +seen. +</p> +<p>“Sit on the other side; will you, Lottie dear?” +asked Cora, as, grasping the steering wheel with +firmer fingers she looked at the course ahead of +her. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m so comfortable here,” objected Lottie. +</p> +<p>“I know, but the boat isn’t trimmed properly, +and she can’t do her best unless she is.” +</p> +<p>“Like us girls,” remarked Belle. “We, too, +must be properly trimmed to do our best.” +</p> +<p>“Trimmed!” exclaimed Lottie. “I don’t see +any frills on the <i>Chelton</i>.” +</p> +<p>“You may later, if we win the race,” said Bess. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +“But what Cora means is that the boat isn’t properly +balanced. There is too much weight on the +starboard side.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, then I’m on the starboard side,” said +Lottie. +</p> +<p>“Yes, or on the right, according to the new +navy rules,” agreed Cora. “But, really, someone +must shift.” +</p> +<p>“But if I go over there I’m afraid the spray +will get on my dress,” objected Lottie. “And it +spots terribly, especially with salt water.” +</p> +<p>“I’ll change over,” said Marita. “I don’t mind +if my dress does get wet.” +</p> +<p>“You’re a dear,” sighed Lottie, as she settled +back among the cushions. +</p> +<p>“And you’re a bit selfish,” thought Cora. +</p> +<p>The <i>Chelton</i>, now in better trim, skimmed +over the bay. Behind her came the <i>Pickerel</i>. +And, as Cora looked back she noted that the +young man’s craft was slowly overtaking her. +</p> +<p>“He has more speed than I thought he had,” +she mused. +</p> +<p>Foot by foot the young man urged his boat onward. +Clearly he was not of that false chivalrous +type that permits a lady to win whether she has +the ability or not. To a really athletic girl, pitted +against a man in an equal contest, nothing is more +humiliating than to realize that her opponent is +not putting forth all his powers. There are some +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +men who will never try too hard to win from a +woman. This stranger was evidently not of that +type, and Cora valued him accordingly. +</p> +<p>“Can you get up any more speed?” asked Belle, +anxiously. +</p> +<p>“I’ve got a bit left,” said Cora, as she opened +the throttle a little wider. “And I think I’ll need +it,” she added. +</p> +<p>“He certainly is coming on,” added Belle in a +low voice. “Are we getting too near the rocks, +Cora?” +</p> +<p>“No, it’s safe so far. But I think I’ll go out +a bit. I want to win this race.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVIII_MORE_SUSPICIONS' id='XVIII_MORE_SUSPICIONS'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>MORE SUSPICIONS</h3> +</div> + +<p>Cora Kimball well knew the capabilities of +the <i>Chelton</i>. She had steered other motor craft +in many races, and was aware, almost to a revolution, +just how much speed was available in a boat +of this kind. And while she did not know what +the rival boat could do, she was too expert at +water sports to use up her last reserve of speed. +</p> +<p>So, even while she watched the other boat creep +up on her, she did not open the throttle to its +fullest extent, nor did she advance the timer, which +controlled the spark, to the limit. +</p> +<p>“I’m going to be in shape to spurt if I have +to,” reasoned Cora. +</p> +<p>Foot by foot the other boat crept on. +</p> +<p>“He’s going to win!” exclaimed Bess, in disappointed +tones. +</p> +<p>“Don’t be so sure,” laughed Cora. “Remember, +we have been in races before, and in many a +seeming hopeless one we have come out ahead.” +</p> +<p>“You girls are just—wonderful!” breathed +Marita, as she crouched on the seat she had taken. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span></p> +<p>“You don’t know us yet,” laughed Bess. “Wait +until you see some of the things Cora can do.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t believe her!” exclaimed Cora, turning +for an instant to smile at the girl who always +seemed to be effacing herself for others. Then as +she saw the spray coming up against the bows, and +dashing over Marita, she added: +</p> +<p>“Oh, you poor child! Why didn’t you say you +were getting wet?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t mind,” was the brave answer. +</p> +<p>“But you must,” insisted Cora. “Here, put +this on,” and from a forward locker she pulled an +oilskin coat, flinging it back to Marita, as at that +moment the boat yawed when a big wave hit the +bows, necessitating a firm hand on the wheel. +</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s getting rough!” exclaimed Lottie, +apprehensively. +</p> +<p>“Put away your nail-buffer and hang on,” advised +Bess. “It may be rougher before it’s +calmer.” +</p> +<p>“I—I wish I hadn’t come,” mourned Lottie. +</p> +<p>“You aren’t going to be ill, I hope,” said Cora, +quickly. +</p> +<p>“No, but my dress may be all spotted——” +</p> +<p>“Here, take this,” offered Marita. +</p> +<p>“No, indeed, you keep that,” said Cora, +quickly. “There are more in the lockers. Belle, +will you get them out? It is a bit rough out here.” +</p> +<p>They had gotten beyond the protection of the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +arm of land that enclosed the bay, and with a +strong tide running there were more waves than +there had been at first. +</p> +<p>But the girls did not mind, save perhaps Lottie, +and her chief anxiety was for her dress. An oilskin +coat, however, averted this danger, and she +settled back in her place. +</p> +<p>Cora looked back at the oncoming boat of the +young man. It was within ten feet of her now, +and as she opened the throttle of the <i>Chelton</i> a +trifle more, she tried to get a glimpse of the controlling +mechanism of her rival’s craft. +</p> +<p>She stood up to do this, and, as she did so there +came a slapping wave against the bow of her boat. +Cora staggered at the wheel, and Lottie screamed. +</p> +<p>“Be quiet!” commanded Cora. “It’s all +right.” +</p> +<p>“But we roll so!” +</p> +<p>“There <i>is</i> a bit of a sea on,” admitted Cora, +calmly. “It will be over in a few minutes, though. +I’ll have to tell him we’re close to the danger point, +and will have to slow down.” +</p> +<p>Determining to end the race in good style, Cora +opened up the throttle full, and advanced the +spark to the limit. The <i>Chelton</i> responded with +a sudden burst of speed that carried her some +distance ahead of the rival craft. +</p> +<p>But the young man was evidently not going to +take his defeat easily. The louder exhaust from +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +his engine told that he, too, had put on more +power. +</p> +<p>But it was not enough, for as Cora raised her +hand, in automobile-signal fashion, to warn her +follower of an impending stop, the end of the impromptu +race course was reached. +</p> +<p>The girls had won. +</p> +<p>“What is it?” called the young man as he +stood up at his wheel. +</p> +<p>“The rocks,” answered Cora. “We can’t race +any more.” +</p> +<p>“We don’t need to,” he replied. “You won. +I congratulate you!” +</p> +<p>His tone was sincere, his manner courteous, but, +as Cora looked into his boat, when it rushed up +alongside her slowed-down craft, she noted that +his throttle was still partly closed. +</p> +<p>Instantly a suspicion came to her. +</p> +<p>“He did not try to win!” was the suggestion +that flashed to her mind. “He didn’t try!” +</p> +<p>For a moment her brain was in a whirl, and she +had an idea that she ought to tell her chums what +she had in mind. Then she decided to be cautious—to +wait and watch a little longer. She wanted +to find out his reason. +</p> +<p>Who was this strange young man who seemed +so friendly? What did he want in Bayhead? +Why had he proposed a race? And then, after +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +proposing it, why had he not won it when, clearly, +he might have done so? +</p> +<p>These were the questions that Cora asked herself +as she slowed down her motor. +</p> +<p>She had used up her limit of power in an honest +endeavor to win, but the young man had not. He +had held back purposely. +</p> +<p>Why had he done it? +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIX_ODD_TALK' id='XIX_ODD_TALK'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>ODD TALK</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Sorry I couldn’t beat you!” called the young +man, waving his hand to the girls in Cora’s boat. +“You had more speed than I thought.” +</p> +<p>“Are you sure it was a fair race?” asked Cora, +looking at him sharply. Her tone was peculiar. +</p> +<p>“A fair race? What do you mean?” he asked, +wonderingly. “Do you think I should have given +myself more of a handicap?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, no indeed!” exclaimed Cora, blushing +that he should have mistaken her meaning. “You +were generous—too generous, I think.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s all right. I’m not complaining. Of +course it was a fair race. The faster boat won.” +</p> +<p>“I’m glad you think so,” spoke Cora, meaningly, +as she thought of the partly-closed throttle. +</p> +<p>“Oh, yes indeed. I’m satisfied!” he exclaimed +in generous tones. “But is the dangerous place +you spoke of near here?” +</p> +<p>“Right ahead,” answered Cora, pointing to +where the water was swirling in over some partly-hidden +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +rocks. “Keep well out, and when you +round the point you’ll be at Bayhead.” +</p> +<p>“I’m greatly obliged to you,” was his reply. +But Cora did not look at him, nor return his bow. +She swung her boat around and started back for +the bungalow. The young man, with a curious +glance at her, bent over his motor to make some +adjustment. In another instant his craft shot +ahead, seemingly at greater speed than it had +made at any time during the race. +</p> +<p>“I don’t think much of him,” observed Lottie, +as she took a more comfortable position on the +cushions. +</p> +<p>“Why not?” Belle asked. +</p> +<p>“Because he didn’t even invite us to a tennis +game, to say nothing of ice cream sodas, and +there’s a place in Bayhead where they have the +most delicious chocolate!” +</p> +<p>“Lottie!” gasped Marita. “Would you have +gone with him?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, well,” with a shrug of her shoulders, “I +don’t know as I would, only—he might have asked +us.” +</p> +<p>“No, he wouldn’t,” said Cora, and the manner +in which she spoke caused her chums to look curiously +at her. +</p> +<p>“What makes you think so?” inquired Bess, +merely for the sake of argument. She had stopped +eating sweets—for the time being. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></p> +<p>“Because he had a special object in view in +asking us to race, and once that was accomplished +he had no further use for us.” +</p> +<p>“Why, Cora Kimball!” cried Belle. “What +makes you say that?” +</p> +<p>“Because I think it. You didn’t see all that I +did.” +</p> +<p>“What did you see?” asked Bess, eagerly. +“Did he have some sort of weapon? Or do you +think he tried to get us over this way, hoping we +would be wrecked on the rocks? Maybe he was +a wrecker, Cora. I’ve heard that there are some +of those terrible people in this section.” +</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” exclaimed Cora. “I only mean +that his boat is a very powerful one. He did not +‘let her out,’ as Jack says, to the limit. He could +easily have beaten us if he had wanted to.” +</p> +<p>“The idea!” cried Belle. “I don’t like that +kind of young man.” +</p> +<p>“Nor I,” agreed Cora. “Not because he refused +to win when he could, but because of what +may be his object. That he had one I’m certain.” +</p> +<p>The girls turned to look at the other motor +boat. It was rounding the point to Bayhead now, +and seemed to be going at remarkable speed. +</p> +<p>“How fast it goes!” exclaimed Lottie. +</p> +<p>“Yes, much faster than the <i>Chelton</i>,” responded +Cora. “I told you he was holding back.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span></p> +<p>“What could have been his object?” asked +Belle. +</p> +<p>And that was a question all the girls asked +themselves. +</p> +<p>“Well, my nerves are better, anyhow,” observed +Bess, as she threw back the clustering hair +from her face so that the wind might caress her +cheeks, now flushed with excitement. +</p> +<p>“That’s good,” spoke Cora. +</p> +<p>“The antidote of the race and the excitement +of the mystery, as to why the nice young man +didn’t want to win, are guaranteed to cure nerves +or money refunded,” said Lottie with a laugh. +“Where are you going, Cora?” +</p> +<p>“Back to the bungalow, of course. Mrs. Lewis +may be anxious about us. It is nearly lunch time, +anyhow.” +</p> +<p>“Then it is time for us to be anxious about ourselves,” +said Bess. “But I don’t believe Mrs. +Lewis will worry. You know she went away right +after doing up the breakfast things. She said she +was going to consult some friends, for those she +saw last night could not help her, and she may not +be back yet. So there’s no need to hurry.” +</p> +<p>“Then I have an idea!” cried Cora. “We +have our tea outfit with us, and some crackers. +Why not go ashore and have a little picnic? It +will complete the nerve treatment, perhaps,” and +she smiled at Bess. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p> +<p>“Good!” cried that girl. “It will be just the +thing. Are you sure you have enough crackers, +Cora? If not we could stop at the store on the +point and get some.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, there are more than are good for you,” +was the answer. +</p> +<p>Cora changed the course of the boat to send the +craft over toward a pretty little wooded cove +where the girls had often gone ashore for +luncheon. They always carried in the boat an +alcohol stove, with the necessary ingredients for +tea. +</p> +<p>Soon the <i>Chelton</i> was beached at a place where +the small waves would do her no damage, and the +girls were preparing luncheon. +</p> +<p>They carried their own fresh water with them, +not depending on finding a spring. Condensed +milk, sugar and some tins of sweet crackers completed +the meal, which was served on the grass for +a table, paper napkins adding to the luxury of the +occasion. +</p> +<p>The picnic place was on a spit of land that +jutted out into Crystal Bay. It could be approached +from either side, and on one side there +was some dense shrubbery that hid the water from +sight. +</p> +<p>It was when Cora and her chums were in the +midst of their impromptu luncheon that they heard +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +a boat grate on the beach that was hidden from +view by the bushes. +</p> +<p>“Someone is coming!” exclaimed Bess. +</p> +<p>“Maybe it’s the boys,” remarked Belle. +</p> +<p>“It’s about time they followed us,” suggested +Lottie. “They don’t give us a moment’s peace.” +</p> +<p>“Do you want it?” asked Cora pointedly, for +Lottie had been rather taken up with Jack, of late. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” answered the girl. “Of +course the boys are nice, and——” +</p> +<p>“‘Handsome is as handsome does,’” quoted +Belle. “But that doesn’t happen to be the boys.” +</p> +<p>“How do you know?” asked Bess. +</p> +<p>“I just had a glimpse of them through the +bushes. It’s a strange motor boat—neither the +<i>Dixie</i> nor the <i>Lassie</i>.” +</p> +<p>“Who is in her?” asked Cora. +</p> +<p>“I can’t make out. Listen!” +</p> +<p>She raised her hand for silence, but there was +no need. The girls ceased chatting at once, and +silently followed Cora toward a hedge of underbrush, +some little distance from where their luncheon +was spread. +</p> +<p>Then they heard some odd talk—at least it +seemed odd until they understood the meaning of +it. +</p> +<p>“So you had a race with them?” one voice +asked. +</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied another, who had just landed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +on the spit of the land. “I raced ’em, but I didn’t +beat ’em!” +</p> +<p>“Couldn’t you?” +</p> +<p>“Couldn’t I? Say, you know what the <i>Pickerel</i> +can do when she’s pushed to it. I held back the +throttle.” +</p> +<p>Cora started. Her suspicions were unexpectedly +confirmed. +</p> +<p>“You can see them from over here,” whispered +Belle, pulling Cora’s sleeve. Cora moved to +where an opening in the bushes afforded a glimpse +of the strangers. +</p> +<p>She saw three men, and one of them she knew +in an instant to be the young chap who had raced +with her. His boat, too, was on the beach. It +was from her that the men had come. +</p> +<p>“Well, you know how fast the <i>Chelton</i> can go +now, that’s sure,” spoke a voice. +</p> +<p>“Yes,” answered the young man, “I know. +We needn’t fear her if it comes to a chase. That’s +what I wanted to make sure of.” +</p> +<p>“Then all we have to do is to get the rest of +the evidence, and the property is ours.” +</p> +<p>“Yes. We can turn the widow and the daughter +out, all right, if we get the necessary papers. +Then we can go ahead and build the dam across +the brook.” +</p> +<p>“That’s going to arouse a lot of opposition!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +exclaimed the third member of the trio. “It will +spoil the park.” +</p> +<p>“Well, we can’t help it. We need the dam for +power for our factory, and the people don’t really +need the park. We’ll do it.” +</p> +<p>“You mean we’ll make Shane do it!” exclaimed +the young man who had raced with Cora. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XX_THE_NIGHT_PLOT' id='XX_THE_NIGHT_PLOT'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>THE NIGHT PLOT</h3> +</div> + +<p>The girls looked at one another with startled +glances. Cora bent forward eagerly in order to +better hear what else was said. She had no compunctions +as to eavesdropping, feeling that it was +justified under the circumstances. +</p> +<p>“They must mean Denny Shane, the old fisherman,” +whispered Bess. +</p> +<p>“Hush!” cautioned Cora. Not only did she +want to listen, but she was fearful lest the men on +the other side of the hedge discover the presence +of herself and her chums. +</p> +<p>“Yes,” resumed the speaker, “we must make +old Shane do it. Once we get him in the proper +frame of mind he’ll testify just as we want him to. +And we need some testimony to offset that of the +widow and her girl. Otherwise we’ll never get +the property without a long delay.” +</p> +<p>“But how can we get Shane in the proper frame +of mind to testify as we want him to?” asked +another of the trio. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span></p> +<p>“Leave that to me,” answered the one who had +been in the fast motor boat. And Cora started as +she noted the difference in his tone now. It was +hard and cruel, while, in speaking to her, his accents +had been those of a cultured gentleman, used +to polite society. There was a metallic ring to his +voice now that boded no good to Denny Shane. +</p> +<p>“Yes, I guess we’ll leave it to you, Bruce,” said +a voice, “though maybe Kelly could put it over +him with a bit of blarney. You know Shane is +Irish.” +</p> +<p>“Hush! No names, and not so loud!” +cautioned the one who had been addressed as +Bruce. +</p> +<p>“Who’d be listening?” asked the other. +</p> +<p>“You never can tell, Moran,” was the retort. +</p> +<p>“There you go!” exclaimed Bruce, fretfully, +and the girls knew it must have been the one +called Kelly who spoke that time. +</p> +<p>There was a movement on the other side of +the bush, and Cora, with a sudden motion, +crouched down, signalling the others to do the +same. It was only just in time, too. Fortunately +for the girls they were in a sort of depression, and +by crouching down they got out of sight, as one of +the men came forward to peer through the underbrush. +He saw nothing, as was evidenced by his +report a moment later. +</p> +<p>“There’s not a soul here,” he said. “There’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +been some picnic party around, but they’ve gone. +It’s as deserted as a graveyard.” +</p> +<p>“I’m glad we came away from our luncheon,” +whispered Cora, as the men resumed their talk. +The wind sprang up, for a moment, and carried +their tones away from the girls, so that only an +indistinct murmur could be heard. Then there +came clear talk again. +</p> +<p>“Well, what’s the program, then?” asked one +whom the girls could tell was Moran. He was +the same man they had seen before in the drug +store. +</p> +<p>“Get at Shane first of all,” decided Kelly. +“I’m willing to let Bruce do it, even if I am Irish.” +</p> +<p>“We’ll all have to call on him,” said Bruce, +grimly, “but only one need actually do the business. +We’ve got to deal with him in two ways. +We’ve got to make him tell what we want brought +out in court, and we’ve got to scare him so that +he won’t tell what we don’t want known. And +there are two ways of doing that.” +</p> +<p>“How?” asked Kelly. +</p> +<p>“First we can offer him a reward. It will be +worth it, even if we have to pay something to have +him testify as we wish. The committee allowed +us a certain sum for—well, let us say for witness +fees. I’d rather pay him a hundred dollars and +have it all over with. It’s better to have a friend +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +than an enemy, and you never can tell which way +a thing like this is going to swing.” +</p> +<p>“Sposin’ he won’t take the cash?” asked +Moran. +</p> +<p>“Then I have another plan,” and Bruce laughed +bitterly. “I guess I don’t need to say what it is.” +</p> +<p>“I’m wise,” remarked Kelly. “Only—not too +rough, you understand. He’s a feeble old man.” +</p> +<p>“No rougher than’s necessary,” agreed Bruce. +</p> +<p>Cora clasped her hands, and looked with fear +in her eyes at her chums. +</p> +<p>“We——we mustn’t let them harm dear old +Denny!” whispered Belle, shivering with nervousness. +</p> +<p>“Hush!” cautioned Cora. “Don’t talk—think!” +</p> +<p>There was a movement on the other side of the +screen of bushes, as indicating that the men were +about to leave. +</p> +<p>“Well, we’ll let it go until to-night then,” said +Kelly. +</p> +<p>“Until to-night,” agreed Bruce. “And we +know, in case of a slip-up, that there’s no motor +boat around here that can catch us when we make +our get-away.” +</p> +<p>“There’s the <i>Dixie</i>,” suggested Moran. +</p> +<p>“She’s out of commission, I heard,” responded +Bruce. “And she won’t be in shape for a day or +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +so. The <i>Chelton</i>—well, I gave her a try-out a +while ago, and I know what she can do.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, do you?” thought Cora. “Perhaps you +don’t.” +</p> +<p>“I have to laugh when I think how I took those +girls in,” went on Bruce. “I pretending that I was +a stranger in these waters, and they kindly offering +to pilot me. I guess they took me for some society +swell of Bayhead.” +</p> +<p>“The mean thing!” hissed Lottie. +</p> +<p>“Well, you can do the society act when you +have to,” said Kelly. “Only I guess we won’t +need that now. Shane doesn’t move in society circles. +How’d the game with the widow’s daughter +work out?” +</p> +<p>“It didn’t work at all. ‘Confidence Kate’ didn’t +gain her confidence. That’s why I’m switching to +Shane,” answered Bruce. “But we’d better be +going. There’s lots to be done.” +</p> +<p>Cora and the motor girls listened in silence as +the men crunched their way down the beach to +their boat. +</p> +<p>A little later they were chugging away in the +speedy <i>Pickerel</i>. +</p> +<p>“Isn’t that just awful!” gasped Belle. +</p> +<p>“It’s a villainous plot!” exclaimed Bess. “Oh, +I’m so nervous! I know I’m going to cry—or +laugh—or do both.” +</p> +<p>“Bess Robinson, if you do anything foolish, or +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +faint, you shan’t do a thing toward helping to save +Denny Shane!” exclaimed Cora, vigorously. +“And I know you do want to help him.” +</p> +<p>“I certainly do. I’ll behave. Oh, let me have +a cup of tea.” +</p> +<p>“I think we’ll all be better for it,” assented +Cora. “Come, girls, let’s eat and then we’ll get +back. We, too, have a great deal to do.” +</p> +<p>“Do you mean that you girls are going to try +to——to outwit those desperate men?” asked +Marita, her eyes opened wide. +</p> +<p>“We certainly do mean to!” insisted Cora. +“Who else would do it?” +</p> +<p>“Why, the police.” +</p> +<p>“There are only constables in a place like this. +We can do better than they—especially with the +boys to help.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, of course, the boys!” agreed Marita, and +she seemed relieved. +</p> +<p>“I must say it was most providential that we +heard what they said,” spoke Lottie, looking to +see if there were any grass stains on her dress. +</p> +<p>“Indeed it was,” assented Cora. +</p> +<p>It was rather an excited little luncheon, but the +hot tea did them all good, and then, rapidly talking +over what they had just gone through, and making +all sorts of plans to outwit the schemers, the girls +got into their boat again, and headed for the +bungalow. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></p> +<p>“Of course we must warn Denny at once,” +said Cora, and to this the girls agreed. “Then +we’ll tell the boys, and see what they suggest. +But I almost know what Jack will say!” +</p> +<p>“What?” asked Lottie. She was very much +interested in Jack. +</p> +<p>“Oh, he’ll want to hide and capture the villains +‘red-handed,’ as he calls it.” +</p> +<p>“And I don’t know but what that’s as good a +plan as any,” remarked Belle. “I’d like to see +them do it!” +</p> +<p>Cora and her chums found Mrs. Lewis rather +worried over their absence from the bungalow. +She had returned, unsuccessful, from seeing her +friends. Freda was recovering from the shock +and fright of the day before. +</p> +<p>“Where have you been?” Mrs. Lewis asked +Cora. +</p> +<p>“Oh, just off on a little picnic,” was the answer, +and Cora motioned to her chums to say nothing +of what they had heard. They had agreed that it +would be better for the widow not to know, at +least for the present. +</p> +<p>“Dinner will be ready soon,” suggested Mrs. +Lewis. +</p> +<p>“We’ll have it a little late to-day,” replied +Cora. “We have had some tea, and I want to +go over and see Jack. They haven’t been around +here since we left; have they?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></p> +<p>“Oh, yes,” answered Freda. “They were all +here, wanting to know where you’d gone; but of +course I couldn’t say. Then they went out in your +brother’s boat, but they didn’t get far before they +had a breakdown.” +</p> +<p>“It’s the <i>Lassie</i>’s day off again,” laughed Belle. +</p> +<p>“Why didn’t they take the <i>Dixie</i>?” asked Bess. +</p> +<p>“Something is the matter with her, too,” replied +Freda. +</p> +<p>Cora and her chums exchanged meaning glances. +The talk of the men was confirmed. Evidently +they had their own way of getting information. +</p> +<p>“Well, we’ll go over to Camp Couldn’t,” suggested +Cora, after a pause. “They’re probably +there now.” +</p> +<p>They found the boys grouped about, in and out +of the tent. +</p> +<p>“Here they come!” +</p> +<p>“Where have you been, girls?” +</p> +<p>“We’ve been lonesome for you!” +</p> +<p>“How bright the day seems now, to what it was +before!” +</p> +<p>Thus chanted Jack, Walter, Ed and Dray Ward, +as they saw the advancing girls. +</p> +<p>“Oh, stop that nonsense, Jack!” exclaimed +Cora, as her brother waltzed forward to do a +two-step on the moss with timid Marita. +</p> +<p>“Why, what is wrong?” +</p> +<p>“Lots!” she exclaimed, and her manner must +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +have impressed Jack, for he grew grave at once. +</p> +<p>“Has anything more happened since last +night?” he asked. +</p> +<p>“There has. We’ve discovered the meanest +plot to harm Denny Shane. Listen.” +</p> +<p>“We list!” recited Walter, but Cora quieted +him with a look. +</p> +<p>Then began the telling of the overheard conversation. +</p> +<p>“Well, what do you know about that?” +</p> +<p>“The nerve of that chap wanting a race!” +</p> +<p>“We’ll race <i>him</i>, all right!” +</p> +<p>“And so they’re going to do up old Denny, +eh?” +</p> +<p>“Well, I guess we’ll have a hand in that!” +</p> +<p>These were the comments of Jack and his +chums. +</p> +<p>“Now don’t do anything rash,” begged Cora. +</p> +<p>“We’ve got to do <i>something</i>,” insisted Jack. +</p> +<p>After some consultation it was agreed that the +boys should go over and have a talk with the fisherman, +and then, among themselves, they would +decide on what was best to be done. +</p> +<p>Meanwhile the girls would go back to the +bungalow, there to await the report of the boys. +Nothing would be said to Mrs. Lewis, for she had +had alarm enough. +</p> +<p>It was anxious waiting for the girls, and they +were so nervous that they did not enjoy the dinner +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +Mrs. Lewis had prepared, at which lack of appetite +she wondered much. But she ascribed their +distraction, and their rather strange comments, to +the alarm of the day before. +</p> +<p>Finally the <i>Lassie</i>, which had somehow been induced +to “mote,” was descried coming across the +bay from the direction of the old fisherman’s cabin. +</p> +<p>“Come on, girls!” called Cora as she saw the +boys. “We’ll go down and meet them.” She did +not want Mrs. Lewis to hear the talk. +</p> +<p>“Well, Jack?” asked Cora, as the boat came in. +</p> +<p>“Not well—bad,” he said. “Denny wasn’t at +home, and no one knew where he had gone. So +we left a note for him, and we’ll be on hand to-night.” +</p> +<p>“What about us?” asked Bess. +</p> +<p>“You’d better stay here,” said Jack. “No telling +what sort of a row we may run into, and you’re +better at home.” +</p> +<p>“I think so, too,” agreed Cora, but the look +she gave her chums had more meaning in it than +the mere words indicated. Bess and the others +understood. +</p> +<p>“And now,” went on Jack, “we’ll proceed to +find out why the <i>Dixie</i> won’t mote. We want her +in shape to-night.” +</p> +<p>“That’s right,” assented Dray. “I think it’s +the carbureter. I’ll get a man from the garage to +look it over.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></p> +<p>“We’ll want a fast boat if the one those fellows +have is as speedy as you girls say,” remarked +Walter. +</p> +<p>“Couldn’t we take the <i>Chelton</i>?” asked Ed. +</p> +<p>“The <i>Pickerel</i> beat us to-day,” said Cora. “Besides, +it might be good to have her in reserve. +Try and have the <i>Dixie</i> fixed up.” +</p> +<p>“We will!” promised her owner. +</p> +<p>The remainder of the day seemed like a dream +to the girls. Never had time passed so slowly. +They were waiting for what the night might bring. +</p> +<p>The boys made several other trips to the fisherman’s +cabin, going afoot through the woods, as +the <i>Lassie</i> had again gone on a strike, and a man +from the garage was working over the <i>Dixie</i>. +</p> +<p>The fisherman’s cabin could be reached in two +ways, but the water route was preferred by the +young people, even though it was longer. +</p> +<p>The boys could not find Denny at home, however, +and planned to be at his cabin just at dusk, +and to remain there until something happened. +</p> +<p>“So we’ll be sure to be there when the men +arrive,” said Jack. +</p> +<p>Finally twilight came, and with the falling of +night the repairs to the <i>Dixie</i> were completed. +She seemed to be running better than in some time. +</p> +<p>“Well, here we go!” remarked Walter, as the +boys took their places in the swift craft. “We’ll +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +let you girls know what happens—as soon as it +happens.” +</p> +<p>“You’d better!” laughed Cora. “We’ll be +very anxious.” +</p> +<p>She and her chums had come down to the dock +to see the boys leave on their trip to save Denny +from an unknown danger. +</p> +<p>Then came more anxious waiting. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXI_THE_BREAKDOWN' id='XXI_THE_BREAKDOWN'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>THE BREAKDOWN</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Well, he hasn’t come back yet.” +</p> +<p>“No. It’s sort of queer, too. I wonder where +he can be keeping himself, all day?” +</p> +<p>“Maybe those fellows have got to him after +all.” +</p> +<p>Jack Kimball and his chums, landing at the +fisherman’s dock from the <i>Dixie</i>, thus commented +when they paid another visit to Denny’s cabin, and +found him still absent. +</p> +<p>“No, I don’t imagine anything has happened,” +said Jack. “You know he often goes off and stays +a long time in his boat. He’s got a crazy sort of +motor in it, that runs about as often as the one +does in the <i>Lassie</i>. He may be stuck somewhere.” +</p> +<p>“Or else waiting the turn of the tide,” suggested +Ed. +</p> +<p>“That’s right,” chimed in Dray. “I’ve heard +him say that certain fish won’t bite when the tide’s +running out, and that you can catch others only +when it’s coming in. Maybe he is hanging around +for that.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></p> +<p>“Then he ought to be back soon,” declared +Jack, “for the tide turned a half-hour ago.” +</p> +<p>“If he’s far out in the bay it will take him a +long while to come in. His boat doesn’t make +very good time,” observed Walter. +</p> +<p>The boys walked around the cabin. It was +closed and locked, and the warning note they had +left for the fisherman was still pinned to the door. +</p> +<p>“Which shows that those men haven’t been +here,” said Jack. “That makes me fear that they +may have gotten to him before us.” +</p> +<p>“Why so?” asked Ed. +</p> +<p>“Well, it’s evident that the men haven’t been +here since the girls gave us the alarm. If they +had they’d have torn up that note. Then, too, +you’d think, if they were going to try to make +Denny do what they wanted in the way of giving +testimony, they’d be getting at it. He goes to bed +early, as everybody around here knows, and locks +up. If those fellows wanted to get at him without +breaking in they’d come early. All of which +makes me think that they may already have had +a serious interview with him.” +</p> +<p>“I hope not,” observed Walter. “I’m more inclined +to believe that he’s out on the bay somewhere. +If he is he’s all right.” +</p> +<p>“Say, fellows, I’ve got an idea!” cried Jack. +</p> +<p>“Hold fast to it—they’re scarce,” remarked +Ed. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span></p> +<p>“No, but seriously. Suppose we cruise about a +bit. We needn’t go far from the shore, and we +can have an eye on the cabin. In case Denny is out +on the water we may pick him up. Then we could +tell him what was on, and warn him. We could +do it even better than on shore here, for there’s +no telling but what some of those fellows may be in +hiding around here,” and Jack cast a look about. +It was dark, but a full moon was coming up to +make a light that revealed most objects. +</p> +<p>“Then if there is a possibility that someone +may be in ambush here,” said Walter, “we’d better +keep a bit more mum. But I think Jack’s plan is a +good one. Let’s cruise about a bit, but keep +within sight of the cabin.” +</p> +<p>No one had any objections so, after making a +casual search about the cabin, and not finding anyone +in hiding, the boys again got aboard the <i>Dixie</i> +and started to cruise on the bay, that was now +sparkling in the moonlight. +</p> +<p>Jack and his chums kept a careful watch for +Denny Shane’s boat. There were several motor +craft out, for the night was one that invited trips +on the water—calm and still, with a gentle breeze +that had in it the tang of salt mingled with the +sweet odors of Summer. +</p> +<p>“I feel just like singing,” remarked Ed, after a +pause during which the <i>Dixie</i> cruised about, not +too far from the cabin. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></p> +<p>“Have some regard for our feelings,” begged +Jack. “Remember that we are under a great +strain.” +</p> +<p>“And Ed would be, too, if he sang,” said Walter. +“At least I would feel constrained to remonstrate +with him.” +</p> +<p>“Huh! Think no one can sing but yourself!” +retorted Ed. +</p> +<p>“Moonlight always did have a queer effect on +him,” remarked Jack. +</p> +<p>Round about they cruised, and they were thinking +of returning to make sure that Denny had not +reached his cabin by some other route, unseen by +them, when the motor of the <i>Dixie</i> gave a combined +cough, groan and sneeze, and stopped short. +</p> +<p>“There she goes!” exclaimed Ed. +</p> +<p>“You mean there she <i>doesn’t</i> go!” corrected +Walter. +</p> +<p>“Get the talcum powder,” suggested Jack. +</p> +<p>“I’m sure Dray didn’t use the tooth brush on +her before we came out,” spoke Jack, accusingly. +</p> +<p>The boys had a way of doing the most absurd +things, from a mechanical standpoint, whenever +their motors refused to mote. They would dust +talcum powder on the cylinder tops, or tie a piece +of baby-blue ribbon on the pet-cock when they had +exhausted every other means of making a rebellious +motor operate. +</p> +<p>And the odd part of it was that, often, when +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +they had done these seemingly silly things, the boat +would start. So they were rather superstitious +about it, and they did carry a tin of talcum powder +with them, much to the amusement of the girls. +</p> +<p>In turn the usual sources of trouble were +looked for and eliminated one after the other. +</p> +<p>No wires seemed to have broken, the current +was good, the vibrator buzzed when the contact +was made and there was plenty of gasoline in the +tank. +</p> +<p>“Put in a new spark plug,” suggested Jack. +</p> +<p>“New ones went in to-day,” answered Dray. +“They can’t have sooted already. It isn’t there.” +</p> +<p>“Give her a little more air,” proposed Walter. +“I think she’s getting too rich a gasoline mixture.” +</p> +<p>“I’m not going to touch the carbureter!” declared +the young owner of the <i>Dixie</i>. “It was +trouble enough to get her fixed before. Hand me +that talcum.” Gravely he dusted some on the +pump rod. +</p> +<p>Then another attempt was made to start the +motor, but it only sighed dismally, and refused to +do its duty. +</p> +<p>“I say!” cried Jack, looking up from where he +had been examining the carbureter with an electrical +pocket flash, “we’re drifting out to sea!” +</p> +<p>“So we are!” agreed Ed. “Say, can’t you get +her going?” +</p> +<p>“Can’t seem to,” replied Drayton. “I’ll sell +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +this boat and get another as soon as I can. She’s +a nuisance!” +</p> +<p>“Well, we sure are broken down,” sighed Jack, +“and how we are going to get back to the cabin +is more than I can figure out.” +</p> +<p>“Let’s whistle for help,” suggested Walter. +</p> +<p>“Look!” exclaimed Jack, pointing in the direction +of shore. “There’s a light in Denny’s +cabin!” +</p> +<p>They all looked, and saw a flickering gleam of +fire near the shack that had been deserted all day. +</p> +<p>“Something’s doing!” cried Ed. “And we’re +stuck out here!” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXII_AT_THE_CABIN' id='XXII_AT_THE_CABIN'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>AT THE CABIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Girls,” declared Cora Kimball, “I can’t +stand it any longer! I’ve got to do something—or +have nervous prostration.” +</p> +<p>“And that’s just the way I feel!” said Bess. +“Waiting is the most nervous thing in the world.” +</p> +<p>“Have another chocolate,” suggested Lottie, +helping herself from the box on a table near her. +</p> +<p>“How dare you suggest such a thing?” demanded +Bess. “As if I wasn’t trying to do all I +could to reduce.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, well, I was thinking of your nerves,” observed +Lottie. +</p> +<p>“But what is it you want to do, Cora, dear?” +asked Marita. +</p> +<p>“I want to go to Denny’s cabin, and see what +has happened,” was the answer. +</p> +<p>“What!” cried Belle, with an exclamation of +surprise and alarm. “Tramp through the woods +at this hour of night?” +</p> +<p>“It isn’t any such great, or late, hour of night,” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +replied Cora, calmly, “and the woods are not +dark. There’s a lovely moon. But I don’t propose +to go through the woods. What is the <i>Chelton</i> +for if we can’t use her?” +</p> +<p>“Cora Kimball, do you mean to say that you’d +go out on the bay, and over to Denny’s cabin, after +dark, with the prospect that some desperate men +are going to attack him?” asked Bess. +</p> +<p>“The boys are going to be there,” answered +Cora, still refusing to become excited. “Besides, +they may need our help. We could take a prisoner +or two in our boat.” +</p> +<p>There was a chorus of screams. +</p> +<p>“Cora Kimball—how dare you?” demanded +Belle. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I meant if he was tied hand and foot,” +went on the leader of the motor girls. “Villains +are always tied hand and foot, you know. They +can’t move. They’re gagged, too. I think I should +insist on having our villain gagged. It might happen +to be that young man who raced with us to-day, +and he might get sarcastic if he could talk. +Yes, I think he must be gagged.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, Cora, you’re hopeless,” sighed Lottie. +“What would my mother say if she could see me +now.” +</p> +<p>“She’d tell you to stop eating chocolates and +come with me,” returned Cora, firmly. “I’m going +to the cabin.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span></p> +<p>“I—I’ll go with you,” volunteered Marita, and +then she blushed at the attention she attracted. +</p> +<p>“Well, if Marita isn’t afraid to go, I’m not,” +announced Lottie, with spirit. “Come on, Cora.” +</p> +<p>“Oh!” gasped Bess. +</p> +<p>“Oh, dear!” echoed Belle. “Do we have to +stay here all alone?” +</p> +<p>“Either that, or come with us,” invited Cora. +“I’m going over to the cabin in our boat.” +</p> +<p>There was a step at the door of the living room, +and Mrs. Lewis looked in. +</p> +<p>“Did I hear you girls say you were going out?” +she inquired. +</p> +<p>“Just for a little trip on the water,” replied +Cora, signing to her chums to keep silent. “It is +so lovely with the moon, and we won’t go far.” +</p> +<p>It was not a great way to Denny’s cabin. +</p> +<p>“Well, don’t be gone too long,” cautioned the +widow. “You must remember that I am, in a +way, responsible for you girls.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, we’ll be careful,” Cora promised. “We’d +take Freda with us, but perhaps she had better +stay with you.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, I think so. Besides, she is so nervous +after what nearly happened last night, that I’d +rather she wouldn’t go out. Oh, if only things +were settled! If only we were sure we could get +that property back, and not have to worry about it +being taken away from us!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></p> +<p>“Have they been annoying you of late?” asked +Cora, thinking perhaps there had been some developments +of which she was unaware. +</p> +<p>“No, nothing special, since that horrid woman. +But it is a constant worry to me.” +</p> +<p>“It must be,” returned Cora, sympathetically. +“Well, we will hope for the best.” +</p> +<p>Cora did not say so—even to her chums, but she +had great hopes that something might develop +from the events of this night. If the unscrupulous +men could only be caught in some wrong-doing a +hold might be obtained over them that would enable +them to be defeated in court. Thus their +claim to the property—which claim Cora felt sure +was a false one—might be disproved. +</p> +<p>That there were papers in existence which +would show the widow and her daughter to be +the rightful owners Cora did not doubt. Freda’s +grandfather, from all accounts, was a careful business +man, if eccentric in some ways. He would +not have come into possession of property without +having the papers to prove his claim. And he was +not a man to put them in some safe deposit vault +and leave no memorandum as to finding the key. +</p> +<p>Perhaps they were concealed in some nook or +cranny in the widow’s home. Cora made up her +mind to have a search made after this night was +over. +</p> +<p>Then, too, Denny might be able to come upon +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +them. Eccentric in some ways, as Freda’s grandfather +had been, he might have hidden the papers +in Denny’s cabin. +</p> +<p>That was a new thought. Perhaps the scheming +men knew this, and that is why they wanted +to attack the old fisherman. +</p> +<p>“We simply must go to his cabin,” decided +Cora, “and find out what has happened. I can’t +wait any longer.” +</p> +<p>Wraps were quickly donned, and down to the +dock went the girls. The <i>Chelton</i> was in running +order, and soon they were out on the moonlit +waters of the bay. +</p> +<p>“There’s a light in his cabin,” said Cora, as +they came out from behind a point, and had a view +of the little cove where nestled Denny’s cottage. +</p> +<p>“I hope the boys are there,” remarked Bess, +“and that they have the villains all tied up and +ready for delivery.” +</p> +<p>“Ugh!” exclaimed Belle. “If they have I +wish they’d send them by parcel post instead of +asking us to take charge of them.” +</p> +<p>“They’ll be harmless,” guaranteed Cora. “Besides, +the <i>Dixie</i> can’t hold more than the boys; +our boat is larger.” +</p> +<p>“We could let the boys run this one, after the +men are tied in her,” suggested Lottie, “and we +could come home in the <i>Dixie</i>.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p> +<p>“Never!” exclaimed Cora. “You can’t rely on +her. I’ll stick to the <i>Chelton</i>.” +</p> +<p>But if the girls had only known that, at that +moment, far out on Crystal Bay, was the ill-fated +<i>Dixie</i>, drifting to sea, while the boys tooted hopelessly +for aid on the compressed air whistles! +</p> +<p>The <i>Chelton</i> made a quick and uneventful trip +to the fisherman’s cabin. From it a light peacefully +glowed. +</p> +<p>“There’s no one here,” announced Bess. “Not +even the boys.” +</p> +<p>“Be careful,” warned Cora. “It may be a +trap. Let us go up softly.” +</p> +<p>“But what about those men?” asked Belle. +“Maybe they have taken Denny away with them, +and the boys, too.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t be silly,” advised Cora. “Let’s go up +and look in.” +</p> +<p>As they peered in the cabin window they saw +Denny seated in an easy chair. He was alone, and +across his knees was the red oar of which he +seemed so fond. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXIII_UNEXPECTED_HELP' id='XXIII_UNEXPECTED_HELP'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>UNEXPECTED HELP</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Well, we certainly are up against it—good +and proper!” exclaimed Jack. “And I’m glad the +girls aren’t along!” +</p> +<p>“Why?” asked Walter, leaning back against +the gunwale to rest after laboring over the refractory +engine of the <i>Dixie</i>. +</p> +<p>“Because they can’t call me down for my slang. +And believe muh—as the telephone girls say—I +can use slang now and then—some!” +</p> +<p>“It is aggravating; isn’t it?” asked Dray. +</p> +<p>“Aggravating, my dear chap, is hardly the +word,” drawled Ed. “It’s humiliating!” +</p> +<p>He brought that out in such a droll way that the +others laughed. +</p> +<p>For the engine of the motor boat still refused +to be coaxed into going. They were being carried +out toward the mouth of the bay on the outgoing +tide, which was now running strongly. Soon they +would be out to sea, and though the moon still +shone brightly there was a haze in the sky that betokened +a coming storm. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></p> +<p>But it was not so much the fact of the stalled +engine, nor that they were being carried out to sea, +and were in some danger, that worried the boys. +</p> +<p>“We’re falling down on what we said we’d +do,” declared Jack. “We promised the girls that +we’d save Denny from those fellows, and we can’t +do it. They may be at him now.” +</p> +<p>“We certainly saw a light at his cabin,” ventured +Ed. +</p> +<p>“But we can’t see it now,” added Jack, straining +his eyes for a glimpse of the spot where the fisherman’s +shack stood. +</p> +<p>“Well, there’s no use worrying over what can’t +be helped,” observed Walter, philosophically. +“We’re here and not there. Denny will have to +look out for himself—I guess he’s able.” +</p> +<p>“That isn’t the point,” rejoined Jack. “There +we took the case out of the girls’ hands, so to +speak. We said we were the big noise, and that +we’d look after things. Then we go and get stuck +miles from shore where we can’t do a thing. +They’ll laugh at us when we do get back, if they +don’t do any worse.” +</p> +<p>“But we didn’t know we were going to get +stuck when we came out for a little run, after we +found Denny wasn’t home,” said Dray. +</p> +<p>“That’s no excuse,” returned Jack. “It’s like +a child breaking the looking glass and then saying +he didn’t mean to. Well, I know one thing Cora +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +will say when we get back—if we ever do—and +own up that we weren’t on hand when the play +came off.” +</p> +<p>“What will she say?” asked Dray. He was +not well acquainted with the doings and sayings of +the motor girls, as yet. +</p> +<p>“She’ll say that she and Bess and Belle and the +rest of them could have done better themselves, if +we’d left it to them. And I guess she’d be more +than half right,” sighed Jack. +</p> +<p>“Well, there’s no use crying over a bridge before +you come to it,” observed Dray. “Let’s +have another go at that engine.” +</p> +<p>They began their labors all over again. They +even took out the spark plugs, though they had +been new that afternoon. +</p> +<p>Nothing could be found wrong there. The feed +pipe from the gasoline tank was examined, but it +seemed to provide a good flow. The timer was +adjusted and readjusted. The coil was looked to. +Everything, in short, that the boys could think of, +or that previous trouble had taught them to look +for, was tried, and all with no effect. +</p> +<p>They even did more absurd things, such as the +talcum powder act, while Jack spouted some Latin +verses at the forward cylinder. But the motor +refused to mote. +</p> +<p>“And, all the while, we’re going out to sea,” +remarked Walter. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span></p> +<p>“Out to sea to see what we can see,” said Jack. +</p> +<p>“Oh, hush-a-bye-baby on the jokes,” exclaimed +Dray, a bit petulantly. “If ever I buy a speed +boat again you’ll know it! A good old-fashioned +make-and-break motor for mine after this—one +you can depend on.” +</p> +<p>“Haven’t you an oar or a paddle?” asked Ed. +</p> +<p>“Not a thing that we could use to work against +the tide,” answered Dray, gloomily. “There’s a +boat hook, but that isn’t any better than a straw. +I left the oars out after the man got through fixing +the motor to-day. He said I wouldn’t need them.” +</p> +<p>“The regard that individual has for the truth +is something scandalous!” said Walter, grimly. +“I shall acquaint him with the fact on my return.” +</p> +<p>“When we <i>do</i> return,” returned Jack, gloomily. +</p> +<p>“Oh, we’re bound to be picked up—sooner or +later,” declared Walter. +</p> +<p>“Mostly later,” went on Jack, more gloomily. +</p> +<p>“Well, here goes for another try,” said Dray. +</p> +<p>“That’s right. Maybe the machine has just +been giving us a try-out,” suggested Ed. “We +certainly have said mean things about you, old +Mote!” he went on sarcastically. “Kindly forgive +us and go. ‘See by moonlight ’tis ’most midnight, +time boat and us were home hour-and-a-half +ago,’” he said, quoting from the old nursery +rhyme. +</p> +<p>But the motor only coughed and sighed and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +wheezed like an old man with the asthma, and +the boat still drifted. +</p> +<p>They called, they blew on the compressed air +whistle until all the reserve supply of oxygen was +exhausted from the tank, and then they had to +resort to their voices again. +</p> +<p>“Well, there’s one thing left,” answered Jack, +tragically. +</p> +<p>“What is it?” begged Ed. +</p> +<p>“We can swim for it. That’s better than being +carried out to sea. Let’s swim before it is too +late.” +</p> +<p>“That’s what I say!” exclaimed Dray. “Let +the <i>Dixie</i> go—she’s no good!” +</p> +<p>The others were considering Jack’s startling +proposal, when Ed looked up, and exclaimed: +</p> +<p>“Hark! Don’t you hear something?” +</p> +<p>The others listened. Faintly from the direction +of the sea came a sound—unmistakable. +</p> +<p>“A boat!” cried Jack. “I’ll not take off my +coat yet.” +</p> +<p>“A motor boat, too,” added Ed. +</p> +<p>“And coming this way,” went on Walter. +</p> +<p>“Come on, fellows, give ’em a hail!” suggested +Dray. +</p> +<p>Up to now, with all their shouting and blowing +of the whistle, they had neither seen nor heard of +a craft. They had drifted too far out. If any +had come within hearing distance the occupants +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +had paid no heed to the calls for help. Now +there was one approaching, that was evident. +</p> +<p>“All together, now!” called Jack, and they +united their voices in a shout. +</p> +<p>“There are her lights!” called Dray. +</p> +<p>“Yes, and she’s heading right over here,” +agreed Ed. +</p> +<p>A little later the red and green lights came +nearer. +</p> +<p>Then, as the craft surged up to the stalled +Dixie, and came to a stop, the engine still running +with the clutch thrown out, a voice asked: +</p> +<p>“Do you fellows want a tow?” +</p> +<p>“Do we?” came in a chorus. “We don’t want +anything any more.” +</p> +<p>“Fling us your rope,” was the curt order. +</p> +<p>Unexpected help had arrived. But it was too +late. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXIV_DENNY_S_SOLILOQUY' id='XXIV_DENNY_S_SOLILOQUY'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>DENNY’S SOLILOQUY</h3> +</div> + +<p>“What shall we do?” asked Cora, in a +whisper. +</p> +<p>“It <i>is</i> rather a puzzle,” admitted Bess. +</p> +<p>The motor girls were standing outside Denny +Shane’s cabin, looking in on him as he sat at his +ease, with the red oar over his knees. +</p> +<p>“He doesn’t seem to be in any danger,” went +on Cora. +</p> +<p>“No, those men either haven’t harmed him, or +they haven’t arrived yet,” returned Belle. +</p> +<p>“Oh, but suppose they should come while we +are here?” suggested Marita, shrinking against +Cora. +</p> +<p>“Don’t go to supposing such uncanny things,” +objected Cora, as she put her arm about the other. +“Are you afraid?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” was the hesitating answer. “I +suppose one ought to be afraid, coming at night +to a cabin where some horrible men are expected. +And yet, somehow, I don’t seem to be,” replied +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +Marita. “I know I would have been a few +months ago, but since I have met you girls, and +seen the things you do, why it’s queer, but really +I—I rather like it!” and she laughed. +</p> +<p>“See what your influence has done,” whispered +Cora. +</p> +<p>They had all spoken in low tones, for Denny +was sometimes sharp of hearing, and they did not +want to arouse him. +</p> +<p>The girls were really puzzled, not only at the +peaceful surroundings at Denny’s cabin, but at the +absence of the boys. Of course they could not +know that Jack and the others had been there and +gone, not finding Denny at home. Nor did they +know anything of the note left pinned to the door. +</p> +<p>“Do you suppose it could all be over?” asked +Lottie. +</p> +<p>“All over? What do you mean?” asked Cora. +</p> +<p>“I mean could the men have been here, and +been captured by the boys and taken to jail?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s possible, but not very probable,” returned +Cora. “They surely would have managed +to get some word to us if anything like that had +happened.” +</p> +<p>“But what are we going to do?” asked Bess. +“We ought not to stay here.” +</p> +<p>“No, I suppose not,” admitted Cora, slowly. +“It might be a good thing, though, just to stop +and speak to Denny. Then we’d know, soon +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +enough, what had happened. Suppose we do +that?” +</p> +<p>The others agreed. They had stepped away +from the window for a moment, but now Cora +walked toward it again. Denny was still holding +the oar, but he must have gotten up, for the window +was now partly open, and it had not been so +at first. +</p> +<p>Denny was talking to himself. He was indulging +in a soliloquy, apparently addressing himself +to the oar. +</p> +<p>“If you could only talk,” he said, “if you could +only talk, what a tale you could tell. Yes, indeed!” +and he sighed. “A tale of the sea and the land—of +calm and storms.” +</p> +<p>“He’s very poetical; isn’t he?” whispered Bess. +</p> +<p>“Hush!” cautioned Cora. “Listen to what he +says.” +</p> +<p>Denny was evidently in a talking mood, and +was living the past over again. +</p> +<p>“If only Grandfather Lewis were here, what +tales he could tell, too,” Denny went on. “And +there’s one tale I’d be glad to listen to. He could +tell where the land papers were. If only I could +find ’em everything would be all right, and the +factory men—ha! we could laugh in our sleeves +at ’em. Laugh in our sleeves! Ha! Ha! No, +we could laugh in their faces, so we could; couldn’t +we?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></p> +<p>He held up the oar, speaking to it as one might +to a favorite dog. +</p> +<p>Denny swung it above his head, as though testing +its weight as a club. +</p> +<p>“’Twas so he swung it the night of the storm—the +night he saved my life!” murmured Denny. +“My, what a night that was! What a night!” +</p> +<p>He seemed lost in recollection for a moment, +and then resumed his self-communion. +</p> +<p>“’Twas so he held it—held it out to me in the +smother of foam and spray when I was goin’ under. +And what was it he said? +</p> +<p>“‘Grab holt!’ says he. ‘Grab holt and I’ll pull +you in. Don’t be afraid, the oar is strong!’ And +so it is—a grand, strong oar. As strong as old +Len Lewis himself. What a grand old man he +was! A fine old man! +</p> +<p>“But he’s gone, and we all have to go. I’ll +have to go with the rest, I suppose. But before I +do go I wish I could find them land papers. What +in the world did Grandfather Lewis do with ’em +anyhow? +</p> +<p>“They must be around here. He ought to have +kept ’em in the bank, or in a strong box; but he +was always like that. Hidin’ his things away in +curious places. He even did it with his tobaccy. +A strange man! +</p> +<p>“But I’ll wager the papers aren’t far from the +land. That would be his way—to keep the papers +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +near the land. ‘A place for everything and everything +in its place,’ he used to say. What more +natural than that he’d have the papers near the +land? +</p> +<p>“I wonder, though, did he stick ’em anywhere +around me cabin? He come over here often +enough to sit and chat. Ah, many’s the good old +talk we used to have—a talk of the old days. +Often I’d come in from me boat, and find him +here. He might have brought the papers an’ hid +’em here when I was out. I wonder if he did?” +</p> +<p>Denny looked around his simple cabin. He +laid the oar down gently, as a thing revered. He +walked about the room, looking in various places. +</p> +<p>“No, the papers wouldn’t be here,” he mused. +“I’d have found them before this. And those +fellows, who came and upset my place when I +wasn’t home—they’d have found ’em if they was +here. I wonder what Grandfather Lewis did with +them papers?” +</p> +<p>It was a puzzle that others than Denny Shane +would have given much to solve. +</p> +<p>Cora and her chums looked at one another in +the moonlight outside Denny’s cabin. His talk +had revealed something to them, but there was no +clue to the missing papers which could prove the +title of Mrs. Lewis to the valuable land. +</p> +<p>“Well, there’s one thing sure, Denny hasn’t +been attacked as yet,” whispered Bess. “And the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +boys haven’t been here to warn him, or he’d show +some signs of it.” +</p> +<p>“I think you’re right,” agreed Cora. “What +had we better do? Tell him ourselves?” +</p> +<p>“That’s what I say—let’s warn him,” suggested +Belle. +</p> +<p>The girls started for the cabin door, but paused +midway as they heard the approach of a motor +boat near the fisherman’s little dock. +</p> +<p>“Wait,” suggested Cora. “That may be the +boys now.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXV_THE_PLOTTERS_ARRIVE' id='XXV_THE_PLOTTERS_ARRIVE'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<h3>THE PLOTTERS ARRIVE</h3> +</div> + +<p>“What’s the trouble?” asked one of the four +men in the boat that had come to the rescue of +Jack and his chums. “Engine broken, or are you +out of gasoline?” +</p> +<p>“We’ve got gas, but there may be water in it,” +replied Dray. “I watched the fellow when he +filled the tank, though, and he used the chamois +all right.” +</p> +<p>“You can’t always go by that,” said another of +the accommodating strangers. “There’s an awful +sight of poor gasoline being palmed off nowadays. +Have you got a long rope?” +</p> +<p>“We sure have,” answered Jack. “It’s mighty +good of you to stop and give us a tow.” +</p> +<p>“That’s all right,” laughed one of the men. +“We never can tell when we might want a helping +hand ourselves. Pass us the rope.” +</p> +<p>It was flung over. The two boats were now +bobbing side by side, for they were well out in the +bay, and the sea was quite choppy. The tide was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +running out, and help had come to the boys not +any too soon. +</p> +<p>The rope, passing from the bow of the <i>Dixie</i>, +where it was made fast to a ring bolt in the deck, +was caught on to a cleat in the stern of the other +boat. +</p> +<p>“You’ll look after the steering; will you?” +asked one of the men. +</p> +<p>“Surely,” answered Dray. +</p> +<p>“Because there’s nothing harder than towing a +boat that yaws from side to side,” the man went +on. +</p> +<p>“We’ll keep a straight course,” declared the +owner of the speedy boat that had proved such a +disappointment of late. “We know something +about gasoline craft.” +</p> +<p>“Glad to hear it,” remarked one of the occupants +of the rescuing boat, in a grumbling sort of +voice. “There’s so many launched on the bay now, +with a lot of chaps running them who don’t know +any more than to turn on the gasoline and switch +on the spark.” +</p> +<p>“And girls, too,” added another of the men. +“Though I must say there are some girls here +who——” +</p> +<p>“Easy there!” called one of the rescuers +sharply. +</p> +<p>He might have been speaking to his companion, +who was attending to the fastening of the towing +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +rope, but to Jack it seemed as though there was an +injunction to be careful of what was said. +</p> +<p>Somehow or other, though why he could not +tell, Jack’s suspicions were aroused. He tried to +get a good look at the faces of the men, but the +moon was hidden behind some clouds just then, +and it was out of the question. The light was +too baffling. +</p> +<p>“Well, I guess we’re ready,” announced the +man who was making fast the towing rope. “Now +where do you fellows want to go? We can’t +promise to take you home, as we have some business +of our own to attend to.” +</p> +<p>Jack always said, afterward, that nothing could +have been more providential than the way the +moon shone out brightly just as he was about to +reply. +</p> +<p>He had it on the tip of his tongue to ask that, +if possible, they be landed near Denny’s cabin, +when a ray of moonlight glinted on the name of +the rescuing boat, painted on her stern. There +Jack read the word: +</p> +<p><i>Pickerel.</i> +</p> +<p>“Great Scott!” he almost ejaculated aloud. +“The boat that raced with Cora! The same men +who are after old Denny!” +</p> +<p>Jack made up his mind in a flash. It would +never do for the men to know that he and his +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +friends were on their way to save Denny from the +very fate the men had in store for him. +</p> +<p>“Oh, if you can land us anywhere near Buler’s +Pavilion, it will answer,” said Jack, naming a place +not far from the entrance to the bay, and not far +from where they were at that moment. +</p> +<p>“Buler’s Pavilion!” cried Ed. “Why +that’s——” +</p> +<p>“It’s probably closed, by this time, I know +that!” answered Jack, quickly, giving Ed a sly +kick. “But we can get somebody up, I guess.” +</p> +<p>Then, in a tense whisper he hissed into Ed’s +ear: +</p> +<p>“These are the men after Denny. I know them +by their boat. Don’t let on who we are. We’re +going to Buler’s.” +</p> +<p>“Sure, we can rouse somebody up if they are +closed,” answered Ed, quickly falling in with +Jack’s scheme. “That will do us, all right,” he +added to the men. “That is, if it won’t be too +much out of your way.” +</p> +<p>“Not at all,” said one. “We’ll be glad to leave +you there. Maybe you can find somebody to fix +your boat. All ready?” +</p> +<p>“Let her go,” said Jack. He wanted the +<i>Pickerel</i> to get far enough ahead so that he could +talk to his chums without the danger of being overheard. +</p> +<p>The engine of the rescuing boat was set going +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +more rapidly, and the clutch was thrown in. The +craft forged ahead, and soon the <i>Dixie</i> was under +way again. She was being brought back from the +sea which had so nearly claimed her, and in a +strange manner. +</p> +<p>“Why did you want to say we’d like to be +landed at Buler’s?” asked Dray of Jack. +</p> +<p>“Because I want to fool these fellows,” and +Jack quickly told how he had seen the name of the +boat that had raced with his sister’s. “If we do +land there,” he went on, “they won’t know who +we are. We can tell them to cut us off before we +get to the dock, in case the place should happen +to be open and lighted up. Then they can’t see +us.” +</p> +<p>“Good idea,” said Dray. “You’re a wise boy, +Jack.” +</p> +<p>“I just saw that name in time,” went on Cora’s +brother. “Otherwise it would have been all up +with us.” +</p> +<p>“But what about Denny?” asked Ed. “How +are we going to save him if we land at Buler’s, +and let these fellows go on?” +</p> +<p>“I’ve thought of that,” answered Jack. “We’ll +have to get another boat, if we can, and go to +Denny’s cabin in her. The <i>Dixie</i> is no good. +Oh, excuse me!” he said quickly to Dray. “I +didn’t mean that—exactly.” +</p> +<p>“It’s all right, old man, the <i>Dixie</i> is certainly +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +no good to-night. Say all you please about her, +you can’t hurt my feelings.” +</p> +<p>“If only the <i>Reliance</i> is at Buler’s we can get +her and go to the cabin flying,” went on Jack. “If +not, we’ll do the best we can. Maybe Denny can +stand them off until we arrive.” +</p> +<p>“Say, what’s the matter with up and telling +these fellows we know who they are, and who we +are,” suggested Walter. “We can tell them we +know what they’re up to, and threaten them. +Won’t that stop them from bothering Denny—at +least to-night?” +</p> +<p>“Not a bit of it,” returned Jack, quickly. “Do +you know what they’d do as soon as they found out +who we were?” +</p> +<p>“What?” asked Ed. +</p> +<p>“They’d know at once we were working against +them, and they’d cut us adrift. Then we would +be out of it. And I haven’t any desire,” added +Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders, “to go out to +sea again.” +</p> +<p>“We land at Buler’s,” said Walter, decidedly. +</p> +<p>And a little later they landed at that resort, +which had closed unusually early, for some reason. +</p> +<p>“All right—cast off!” Jack had called as they +neared the dock, and the <i>Dixie</i>, with trailing rope, +ran up to it under her own momentum, while the +other craft swung off into the darkness, the boys +calling their thanks to the men. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></p> +<p>“And if they only knew who it was they had +given a tow to!” chuckled Walter. +</p> +<p>“They’ll know, soon enough,” replied Jack. +“We’ve got to look up a boat to take us to Denny +Shane’s. We’ve simply got to get there.” +</p> +<p>And while the boys were thus looking for a +boat to take the place of the disabled <i>Dixie</i>, the +plotters, in their swift <i>Pickerel</i>, were hastening +toward the little cove where the fisherman’s cabin +stood. +</p> +<p>The men in the boat were Moran, the slow-moving +character whom Cora had seen in the +store; Bruce, the “society” chap; Kelly, a blunt +and unscrupulous Irishman, who handled the +money for the factory interests, and a man to run +the boat. He had been brought in at the last +minute. +</p> +<p>“We lost a lot of time, towing those chumps,” +grumbled Moran, as the <i>Pickerel</i> forged ahead. +</p> +<p>“Well, we were early,” said Bruce. “I’ve had +a man keeping watch on Shane’s shack, and he was +late getting in. He telephoned to me. It’s just +as well to let Shane get a bit settled before we +tackle him. He was out fishing until long after +dark.” +</p> +<p>Then the engineer slowed down the powerful +motor as they came up to the dock. +</p> +<p>It was this sound that Cora and her chums +heard. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXVI_CORA_S_BRAVE_RESOLVE' id='XXVI_CORA_S_BRAVE_RESOLVE'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<h3>CORA’S BRAVE RESOLVE</h3> +</div> + +<p>When the girls heard Cora’s remark, that the +approaching motor boat might contain the boys, +Lottie said: +</p> +<p>“Oh, we’re all right now!” and she sighed in +relief. +</p> +<p>“How much you depend on them!” observed +Belle, in a low voice. “When you’ve been with +us a little longer you’ll learn that we can do almost +as well by ourselves.” +</p> +<p>“But I am glad the boys have arrived,” agreed +Cora. “I never was so pleased to know that they +were on hand.” +</p> +<p>But a moment later, as they saw the forms of +four men leaving the motor boat, which had been +made fast to the dock, Cora shrank back, at the +same time whispering a warning. +</p> +<p>“Girls, something is wrong! Those aren’t the +boys. Quick, get out of sight!” +</p> +<p>She pulled Bess behind a row of bushes, and the +others followed silently. They had started down +to the beach from the cabin, but fortunately managed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +to conceal themselves in time. The men, +walking up the little slope toward the cabin, had +not seen them. +</p> +<p>Trembling with nervousness, Cora and her +chums awaited the new turn of events. That it +would come soon seemed likely, for the men appeared +bent on something. They had made fast +their boat, and came up the slope openly, as +though their errand was the most innocent in the +world. The light still glowed in the cabin. +</p> +<p>“Oh, Cora!” gasped Marita. “Suppose they +do——do something!” +</p> +<p>“Which is very likely they will do,” replied +Cora. “But don’t talk—I want to watch.” +</p> +<p>From behind the screen of bushes Cora watched +the men coming forward. The moon still gave a +good light, though it was declining in the west. +</p> +<p>“Is he there?” Cora heard one of the men ask. +</p> +<p>“He seems to be—there’s a light going, anyhow,” +was the answer. “I’d rather found him in +bed, but we can’t have all we want.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, where are the boys!” cried Bess, frantically. +“Why don’t they come?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” answered Cora. “Surely +they should have been here. But there must be a +good reason why they are not. Jack wouldn’t +disappoint us.” +</p> +<p>“Why don’t you include Walter and the +others?” asked Belle. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span></p> +<p>“Of course you know I meant them,” Cora retorted. +“I can’t understand it—really I can’t.” +</p> +<p>“Perhaps they are in hiding,” ventured Lottie. +</p> +<p>“They’d have been out before this, if they +were,” declared Cora. +</p> +<p>There came a sudden knock. It was one of +the men striking on the door of Denny’s cabin. +From their hiding place in the bushes the girls +heard it plainly. +</p> +<p>“Listen!” whispered Cora. +</p> +<p>They heard the voice of the old fisherman call: +</p> +<p>“Who’s there? What do you want at this time +of night?” +</p> +<p>“We’ve come to see you,” was answered in +tones Cora recognized as those of the young man +who had raced with her. +</p> +<p>“What about?” inquired Denny. “I have no +fish to sell.” +</p> +<p>“And we don’t want fish,” was the retort. +“Come, Shane, open your door. We want to talk +to you. It’s important, and there may be something +in it for you.” +</p> +<p>“Yes—trouble, more or less. I can’t see anything +else,” was the grumbling response. “Wait +a minute.” +</p> +<p>Cora looked over the bushes. She could see +the men grouped in front of the cabin door. Then +she saw it open, and a broad beam of light shoot +out. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span></p> +<p>“Come in,” invited Denny, and the plotters entered. +</p> +<p>“Now’s our chance!” exclaimed Cora, her +heart beating rapidly. “We must see what those +men do. We may have to give evidence.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, dear!” sighed Marita. “I never could +do it. I’d faint, sure.” +</p> +<p>“Do what?” asked Cora. +</p> +<p>“Give evidence.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t worry. You won’t have to do anything +hard, dear,” was the gentle answer, as Cora +slipped her arm about the timid girl. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ll do anything you girls do,” was the +quick answer. “I want to help.” +</p> +<p>“And we want your help,” whispered Bess. +“But, Cora, can’t we go closer? We ought to +look in and see what happens.” +</p> +<p>“Brave Bess!” murmured Lottie. “You are +certainly coming on finely.” +</p> +<p>The plotters were now inside the cabin, so that +it was safe for the girls to advance. This they +did until they were once more in a position where +they could look in the window of the cabin. +</p> +<p>They saw a strange sight. Old Denny Shane, +brave and rugged, confronted the four men who +had called on him. In one hand he grasped the +red oar, while the other rested on the back of the +chair from which he had risen. +</p> +<p>“Well, Mr. Shane,” said the man Cora knew +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +as Bruce. “We come to see you on business.” +</p> +<p>“What kind?” asked the old man, and the girls +could see him look around as though seeking help +or a means of escape. But there was no fear in +his eyes. Only defiance. +</p> +<p>“We might as well get to business at once,” +said one of the men, sharply. That was Kelly. +</p> +<p>“That’s right,” agreed Moran. “Make him +an offer. If he doesn’t want to take it then we’ll +talk another kind of talk. And be quick about it.” +</p> +<p>“I want no business with you!” cried Denny, +sharply. “Why do you come here bothering me?” +</p> +<p>“You know why!” exclaimed Bruce. “You +are concerned in the Lewis land matter. You can +testify as to who owns it.” +</p> +<p>“Well, supposin’ I can?” asked the old man, +defiantly. “What is that to you?” +</p> +<p>“Lots to us, and it may mean a great deal to +you, also!” snapped out Kelly. “You may have +some papers, too.” +</p> +<p>“I may,” returned Denny, “but you’ll not get +’em.” +</p> +<p>Cora and the others, listening, knew that Denny +would only be too glad if he did have the documents +in question. But the girls had heard him +lamenting that he did not know where they were. +</p> +<p>Why did he now let the men think he did know? +It was a puzzle to the girls. +</p> +<p>“Not get them, eh?” cried Bruce. “That’s to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +be seen. Now look here, Shane. We came here +to do business, and we’re going to do it. By fair +means if we can, if not——” +</p> +<p>He paused suggestively. +</p> +<p>“Ah! I know you and your breed!” cried the +old fisherman. “By fair means or foul! But +try it on! I’m not afraid of you.” +</p> +<p>He stepped back a pace, the better to defend +himself in case he had to. The red oar was still +in his firm hands. +</p> +<p>“Now wait a minute,” put in Moran. “We’ll +try the fair means first. What do you say to that? +Show him the bills.” +</p> +<p>With a quick gesture Bruce drew out a roll of +greenbacks. +</p> +<p>“Here you go, Shane!” he exclaimed. “There’s +a cool hundred here, and it’s yours if you testify +that the Widow Lewis has no claim on the land. +And she hasn’t any claim that she can prove. All +we want you to testify to is that her husband’s +father sold the land some time before his death. +We’ll do the rest.” +</p> +<p>“But he didn’t sell it!” cried Denny. “It was +his on his dyin’ day, and it belongs to his son’s +widder and daughter now. That’s the law, an’ +you know it.” +</p> +<p>“She can’t prove that the land is hers,” sneered +Kelly. +</p> +<p>“Maybe she can,” returned Denny, quietly. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></p> +<p>“Well, she can’t unless you tell what you +know,” broke in Bruce. “We’ve found out that +much. Now the factory wants that land, and it’s +going to get it. Here, I’ll make it a hundred and +fifty if you do as we want you to.” +</p> +<p>“An’ testify to a lie?” cried Denny. +</p> +<p>“It wouldn’t be exactly a lie. Besides, we’re +willing to pay the widow a small sum.” +</p> +<p>“Not what the land’s worth. That’s valuable +property,” insisted Denny, “and it will keep her +in her old age if she manages right. Be off with +you! I’ll stick to the Widder Lewis, so I will. Be +off!” and he motioned them to the door. “You +wouldn’t have got this close if it hadn’t been that +my dog was dead. Be off!” +</p> +<p>“Not so fast,” Cora and her chums heard +Bruce say. “We haven’t said all we intend to.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m sure something will happen now,” +quavered Bess. +</p> +<p>“Hush,” cautioned Cora. “We must do something!” +</p> +<p>“Do something?” questioned Marita. “Oh, +why don’t the boys come?” +</p> +<p>Cora and her chums were close to the cabin +now. They could look in the door, and through +the uncurtained window, and see plainly all that +went on. They could also hear plainly, for the +men and old Denny spoke loudly. And, as yet, +the girls had not been noticed. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span></p> +<p>“Now, look here!” said Bruce, and there was +a snarl in his voice. “This is our last offer, Shane. +Either you take the hundred and fifty dollars, and +testify the way we want you to, or we’ll find means +to make you, and you won’t get the money. And +I’ll say this, that we’ll treat the Widow Lewis as +fair as we can.” +</p> +<p>“Which won’t be fair at all!” burst out Denny. +“Not at all!” +</p> +<p>“Well, what’s your answer?” cried Kelly. +“We can’t stay here all night. Give him the +money, Bruce. When he feels it he’ll hate to let +it go.” +</p> +<p>Bruce held out the roll of bills. To the surprise +of Cora and the girls the fisherman took +them. Was he going to betray Freda and her +mother? +</p> +<p>The next instant they knew Denny for the +brave-souled man he was. +</p> +<p>“That’s me answer!” he cried, throwing the +bills in the face of Bruce. “Take your evil money +and get out. I’ll stick to the widder!” +</p> +<p>For a moment the men were nonplussed. Then, +with an angry exclamation, Bruce started forward. +</p> +<p>“Come, girls,” said Cora, “we’ve got to go +to the aid of Denny. For some reason the boys +aren’t here. We’ve got to save him!” and with +this brave resolve she moved toward the cabin. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXVII_THE_RED_OAR_AGAIN' id='XXVII_THE_RED_OAR_AGAIN'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> +<h3>THE RED OAR AGAIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Cora Kimball, what are you going to do?” +gasped Lottie, trying to hold back her chum. +</p> +<p>“I’m going to go to Denny’s aid. Why +shouldn’t I? It’s four to one, but even if we are +girls we can perhaps turn the tide in his favor.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, Cora, I don’t dare!” admitted Belle. +</p> +<p>“Nor I,” added her plump sister. “I’ll faint +if you go in where those horrid men are.” +</p> +<p>“Faint if you like,” returned Cora, calmly. +“Somebody else will have to look after you, then, +for I’m going.” +</p> +<p>“But why?” asked Lottie. “We ought not to +interfere when men are going to fight, and I think +that’s what’s going to happen in there.” +</p> +<p>“That is what’s going to happen,” said Cora, +“but perhaps we can prevent it. For some unknown +reason, though the boys promised to come +here and defend Denny, they haven’t done so. +Therefore, it’s our place to do it.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, and I’m going with you!” announced +Marita, determinedly. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></p> +<p>All this talk had taken but a few seconds of +time, and, as it had been in whispers, the men in +the cabin had not heard it. The situation, however, +was rapidly becoming acute. +</p> +<p>With one accord, after Bruce had stepped toward +old Denny, the others advanced. They were +evidently going to lay violent hands on him. But +the sturdy fisherman was not afraid. +</p> +<p>“Stand back!” he cried. “Stand back or I’ll +do you harm—you cowards!” +</p> +<p>“No use calling names!” sneered Kelly. +“We’re here to do you. We made you a fair +offer, and you wouldn’t take it. Now you’ll have +to abide by the consequences.” +</p> +<p>“Get behind him,” said Bruce. “I can take him +from where I stand.” +</p> +<p>“Get back! Get out of here!” ordered the old +man. +</p> +<p>He raised the red oar over his head, threateningly. +</p> +<p>“Grab him!” cried Moran. “Grab that oar!” +</p> +<p>“You’ll get it over the head before you grab +it!” threatened Denny. “Mind that, now!” +</p> +<p>The fisherman swung his weapon, but he either +had not calculated on the length of it, or he forgot +that he was nearer to the wall than he had been at +first. The blade of the oar caught in a hanging +picture, and was entangled in the wire. +</p> +<p>Denny, putting all his strength into the blow +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +he had hoped would disable one of his assailants, +was thrown off his balance. He toppled and nearly +fell. +</p> +<p>“Now we’ve got him!” yelled Kelly. +</p> +<p>The cowardly men, attacking the single fisherman +with overwhelming numbers, made a leap +forward. +</p> +<p>“Stop! Let him alone. We’ll call the police!” +screamed Cora, and the other girls added their +shrill voices to hers. They rushed into the cabin. +</p> +<p>“The girls I raced with!” muttered Bruce. +“We’ve no time to fool with them. Don’t mind +them. Get at Shane!” +</p> +<p>“Get at me, is it?” cried the fisherman. He +had by this time disentangled the oar from the +picture wire. Again he raised it over his head, +intending to bring it down on Kelly. +</p> +<p>As the red weapon descended Kelly shot up his +hand and caught it. He twisted on the oar to +wrest it from Denny’s grasp, and the two suddenly +went to the floor, jarring the whole cabin. +</p> +<p>And at that instant there was a sound of splintering, +breaking wood. Some red slivers flew out +from between the two prostrate men who were +struggling for possession of the weapon. +</p> +<p>“The red oar! It’s broken!” cried Denny. +“Me old red oar, that saved me life in the hands +of Grandfather Lewis! The red oar is broken, +bad luck to you! Cowards that you are!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span></p> +<p>The girls were screaming, but even Cora, brave +as she was, dared go no nearer to the two desperately +struggling men. Bruce and Moran were +seeking an opening that they might get hold of +Denny. The fourth man had gone back to the +boat, seemingly. He had leaped out of the window +as the girls entered. +</p> +<p>The cabin was a place of wild excitement. +</p> +<p>“Get that oar away from him!” cried Bruce. +“Here’s some rope. Tie him up, and then we’ll +get what we want out of him!” +</p> +<p>“Don’t you dare hurt him!” screamed Cora. +</p> +<p>“Ah, would you?” gasped Denny, as he rolled +out from under Kelly, who had sought to pass a +rope about the old man’s wrists. “I’m not down +and out yet!” he panted. “The red oar is broken, +but I’ve got the best end yet.” +</p> +<p>He staggered to his feet, holding the handle of +the red oar. One end was splintered where it had +been broken from the blade. +</p> +<p>“Come on! I’m not afraid!” yelled Denny. +“Come on. You girls had better leave——there’s +going to be trouble!” +</p> +<p>“We won’t go! Help is on the way. The boys +are coming!” cried Cora, though she did not know +when Jack and the others would arrive. +</p> +<p>“Oh, if they were only here now! When we +need them so!” gasped Lottie. +</p> +<p>Again Denny swung what was left of the red +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +oar around his head. He aimed a blow at the +face of Bruce, but it fell short and struck the man +on the shoulder. +</p> +<p>Then a strange thing happened. The handle +of the oar split lengthwise, and from a hollow +place inside there flew out a roll of papers, yellow +with age. And on one of them was a red seal—a +legal-looking seal. +</p> +<p>Bruce staggered at the blow, and a strange look +came over his face. It might have been that he was +dazed, but his eyes lighted on the roll of papers +that had fallen to the floor. There they lay—a +curious roll that had come from the secret crevice +in the red oar. +</p> +<p>The struggle had come to a sudden end. The +girls ceased screaming and stood looking on +dumbly, unable to understand what had happened. +</p> +<p>As for the men they, too, seemed startled by +the strange turn of events. Kelly rose to his feet, +and was creeping up on Denny from behind. His +arms were outstretched, and his fingers worked +convulsively, as though they would like to close +about the fisherman’s throat, and force him to +testify as the plotters desired. +</p> +<p>Cora wanted to scream a warning, but some +strange force seemed to hold her dumb. +</p> +<p>“The red oar—it’s broken—broken! Me old +red oar, that saved me life!” murmured Denny +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +Shane. “But I never knew ’twas hollow. Never! +I wonder did Grandfather Lewis——” +</p> +<p>He did not complete the sentence, for at that +instant Bruce leaped forward and caught up the +roll of yellow papers from the floor. +</p> +<p>“Give me those!” cried Denny leaping at him +with the jagged piece of the red oar in his gnarled +hands—the hands that had, so many years ago, +grasped the same oar in what was little short of +a death-grip. “Give me those papers!” fairly +roared Denny. “I don’t know what they are, but +they’re not yours. Give ’em to me!” +</p> +<p>“Give you these! I guess not!” sneered Bruce. +“They are just what we want—the land papers. +They’re the only ones by which the widow could +prove her shadowy claim to the property, and with +them out of the way it’s all clear sailing for us. +</p> +<p>“This is the luckiest thing that could have happened +for us! The breaking of the red oar came +at the right time. Kelly, give me a match and +we’ll make a little bonfire of these same papers.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t you dare!” cried Denny, and, making a +leap forward he snatched from Kelly’s hands the +precious documents that had so strangely come +from the secret hiding place in the red oar. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXVIII_THE_DISCOVERY_CONCLUSION' id='XXVIII_THE_DISCOVERY_CONCLUSION'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> +<h3>THE DISCOVERY—CONCLUSION</h3> +</div> + +<p>Wild with rage the three men with one accord +made a leap for Denny Shane. But the old fisherman +was not to be easily taken. Holding the precious +papers close to him, he made a jump for a +corner of the room, where hung an old musket. +</p> +<p>“Oh, he’s going to shoot!” screamed Bess. +</p> +<p>“And small blame to him if he did,” declared +Cora. “Oh, those men must not destroy those +papers, if I have to take them in charge myself!” +</p> +<p>Denny Shane had reached the corner where +hung his musket. It was not loaded. Cora knew +this, for the old fisherman had said he was always +afraid of some accident happening, and he never +kept a charge in the gun. It was for the effect of +it, he said, that he had it hanging on his wall. +Now it would be useful as a club, at least—more +useful than the easily shattered red oar had +been. +</p> +<p>But before Denny could reach the gun Kelly +was upon him. With a fierce motion the desperate +plotter grasped the fisherman around the neck. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +Holding him thus with one arm, he snatched the +papers from him with his other hand. +</p> +<p>“Here you go!” Kelly cried to Bruce. “Take +the papers while I hold him. Burn ’em if you +want to, but be sure you do the job well! Then +we’d better get out of here. I think I hear a boat +coming. This place will soon be too hot for us!” +</p> +<p>Bruce took the papers from his crony. Hastily +scanning them, to make sure he had the right ones, +he struck a match that Moran handed him. +</p> +<p>Kelly and Denny were struggling in the corner +of the room. But poor old Denny had not much +strength left. The events of the night had been +too much for him, and he was giving way under the +cruel pressure of Kelly’s arms. +</p> +<p>“These are the very papers we want—or don’t +want, rather!” exulted Bruce. “With them out +of the way the property is ours.” +</p> +<p>The match flickered in his fingers. +</p> +<p>“Don’t you dare burn them!” cried Cora. +</p> +<p>One corner of the papers had caught fire. +</p> +<p>Then from without the cabin sounded a chorus +of cries. +</p> +<p>“Come on, fellows!” +</p> +<p>“We’re just in time!” +</p> +<p>“The girls are here ahead of us!” +</p> +<p>“What a night!” +</p> +<p>They were the voices of Jack and his chums. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></p> +<p>“Oh, the boys have come! The boys have +come!” cried Lottie. +</p> +<p>“Jack! Jack! In here! Quick!” screamed +Cora. “He’s burning the papers! Get them +from him!” +</p> +<p>Into the cabin, already crowded, the boys flung +themselves. +</p> +<p>“Just in time!” cried Cora, motioning to Jack. +“Get those papers from him before they burn!” +</p> +<p>Over in the corner poor Denny had fallen unconscious +under the attack of Kelly. +</p> +<p>“Cut it and run!” advised Moran, making for +the door. +</p> +<p>“No, you don’t!” shouted Walter, blocking it. +“Guard the windows, Dray—Ed!” he called. +</p> +<p>“The papers! The papers!” voiced Cora. +“Get them before they burn, or Mrs. Lewis will +lose the land!” +</p> +<p>“I’ll get them!” shouted Jack. +</p> +<p>He flung himself upon Bruce as he had often +flung himself upon a player in tackling him on the +football field. +</p> +<p>“Look out for yourself!” threatened Bruce. +</p> +<p>But Jack was not afraid. He twisted himself +about Bruce, and sought to reach the papers. +</p> +<p>Bruce, to get them out of Jack’s reach, held +them high in the air, over his head. The two +were struggling. Moran and Kelly were wrestling +with Ed and Walter, while the other girls +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +cowered behind Dray, who had caught up a chair +as a weapon. +</p> +<p>Cora saw her chance. She slipped around behind +Bruce, and with a leap that had often enabled +her to outwit an opponent in playing basket ball, +the plucky motor girl snatched the papers from +the man’s hand. Full and clean was her jump, +and the smouldering papers came away in her +grasp. +</p> +<p>“I have them, Jack!” she cried. “Look out +for the men!” +</p> +<p>And with that, to make sure that she would not +lose the precious documents, Cora held them +tightly under her arm and ran out of the cabin +door, after putting out the little blaze. +</p> +<p>“All over!” cried Jack, putting out his foot, +and tripping up Bruce, who aimed a savage blow +at him. “All over!” +</p> +<p>Bruce went down heavily. At the same time, +from without the cabin there flashed several lights, +and the voices of men were heard asking: +</p> +<p>“What’s going on here?” +</p> +<p>“Who’s been screaming?” +</p> +<p>The plotters gathered together. Bruce leaped +from the floor. +</p> +<p>“Come on!” he cried desperately. “It’s all +up. Get away!” +</p> +<p>He leaped out of the window, followed by the +other two. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></p> +<p>“Get them!” yelled Ed. +</p> +<p>“No, let them go—it’s the easiest way,” advised +Jack. “Cora has the papers.” +</p> +<p>“But maybe they’ve hurt Denny!” said Walter. +</p> +<p>“I’m all right,” asserted the fisherman, as he +slowly arose. “He just cut off my wind for a +minute. I’m all right. But where are the +papers?” and he looked about the floor, on which +were scattered pieces of the broken red oar. +</p> +<p>“They’re safe,” answered Jack. “Cora, my +sister, has them. Guess we’d better look for her +though.” +</p> +<p>There was no need, as Cora, holding the papers +in her hand, re-entered the cabin at that moment. +Only one edge of the legal documents was burned, +and no real harm had been done. +</p> +<p>While the motor girls, and the boys and the +neighboring men, who had come to the rescue all +but too late, were looking at one another there +was heard, at the dock, the puffing of a motor +boat. +</p> +<p>“There they go!” exclaimed Walter. +</p> +<p>“Well, that’s the best way,” said Jack. “We’re +glad to get rid of them.” +</p> +<p>“How did you girls get here?” asked Ed. +</p> +<p>“How was it you boys <i>didn’t</i> get here?” demanded +Cora, still panting from her exertions. +</p> +<p>Explanations were then in order. I will be as +brief with them as I can. How the girls came to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +go to the cabin is already known. And how the +boys, foolishly perhaps, went out on the bay while +waiting for Denny to come back, and how they +became stalled, is likewise known to my readers. +</p> +<p>In the meanwhile Denny came to his cabin. +</p> +<p>Then came the unexpected help in the shape of +a tow from the plotters themselves. +</p> +<p>“They left us at Buler’s,” said Jack, “and then +we had our own troubles. We tried to get a boat +to come on, for the <i>Dixie</i> still refused to move. +But we couldn’t get one for love or money, and it +was too rough to row.” +</p> +<p>“What did you do?” asked Cora, looking at +Denny, who was examining the broken red oar. +</p> +<p>“We hired a horse and carriage, and came +around the land way,” replied Walter. “It took +us a long time, too, for we missed the road.” +</p> +<p>“But we finally got here,” spoke Ed. +</p> +<p>“And just in time,” added Cora. “We were +wild about you—couldn’t imagine what happened.” +</p> +<p>“Didn’t you get the note we left pinned to the +door?” asked Dray of Denny. +</p> +<p>“Nary a note,” he said. +</p> +<p>Later it was found where it had blown into a +clump of bushes. So that accounted for Denny’s +not being warned in time. +</p> +<p>“But everything seems to be coming out right,” +said Cora, with a rather wintry smile. All the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +girls were pale, and a trifle weak. The boys, too, +were tired. +</p> +<p>“And what are those papers?” asked Jack, taking +them from Cora. +</p> +<p>“Those prove Mrs. Lewis’s title to the land +the plotters tried to get,” she said. “Oh, I’m so +glad we found them.” +</p> +<p>“Who found them?” asked Walter, giving +Cora’s hand a surreptitious squeeze. +</p> +<p>“They were in the red oar,” said Denny. “And +to think I never knew it! They were there all +these years, and all of us worrying about them and +wondering where they were. But I understand +now. Grandfather Lewis must have hollowed out +a hole in the handle, hid the papers in it, and then +plugged it up. Then he gave the oar to me to +keep. I remember well at the time he said it would +prove valuable some day. I often wondered what +made the oar lighter than it had been. It was +because it was hollowed out. +</p> +<p>“I asked him what he meant by sayin’ the oar +was valuable, but he kept puttin’ me off. He said +he’d tell me some time, but he never did. Then +the day he died he sent for me, and was trying to +tell me, I guess, but he couldn’t. I remember I +wondered what was on his mind, but he was too +weak to explain. So he died with his secret, and +the red oar had it and kept it all these years. +</p> +<p>“But the oar broke, or those men and myself +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +broke it between us, and the papers fell out. Now +the widder will get her rights.” +</p> +<p>And the Widow Lewis did. Leaving the valuable +documents with Denny, the motor girls and +the boys went back to their stopping places—the +girls to the bungalow, the boys to the tent. +</p> +<p>And such a time as Cora and her chums had in +telling the good news to Mrs. Lewis and Freda! +The latter could hardly believe it at first. +</p> +<p>“Oh, how can we ever thank you!” cried Freda, +as, with tears in her eyes, she embraced Cora. +</p> +<p>“Don’t try,” was the whispered answer. +</p> +<p>And so everything came out right after all. The +papers so oddly hidden in the red oar proved the +widow’s title to the valuable land beyond the +shadow of a doubt. As for the plotters, they were +not seen again in that part of the country. They +realized that the sharp trick they had tried to +play had failed, thanks to the activities of Cora +and her friends. +</p> +<p>Mrs. Lewis easily established her claim to the +land, moved back to her cottage, and the project +of spoiling the public park was abandoned. The +factory company was beaten in court and the members +of the corporation were forced to pay heavy +costs. +</p> +<p>Old Denny came in for his share of credit, and +he was very happy. His one lament was that the +red oar was broken, but he managed to patch it +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +together, after a fashion. And the motor girls +got him another dog. +</p> +<p>The opening by which the papers had been put +in the hollow handle had been cleverly concealed, +and, only for the accidental breaking of the oar, +might never have been discovered. +</p> +<p>It had probably been the intention of Grandfather +Lewis to disclose the secret hiding place of +the land papers, but he had died before he could +do this. +</p> +<p>“But ‘all’s well that ends well,’” quoted Cora +the next day, at a late breakfast. “We have done +a little good here by our vacation at Crystal Bay.” +</p> +<p>“A <i>little</i> good!” exclaimed Freda. “I never +can thank you enough, Cora.” +</p> +<p>“And we’ll soon have to go back home—that’s +the worst of it!” sighed Lottie. “It is so lovely +here!” +</p> +<p>“Oh, well, we can come back next year,” spoke +Bess. +</p> +<p>“And then, too, Winter’s coming on—something +is sure to happen then,” added Belle. +“Something always does.” +</p> +<p>And what did happen that Winter will be told +of in the volume to follow this, which will be +called “The Motor Girls on Waters Blue; Or, +The Strange Cruise of the <i>Tartar</i>.” +</p> +<p>It was the next day. The girls disposed themselves +about the bungalow in picturesque attitudes, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +and the boys sat on the broad porch, telling over +again the adventures of the night. +</p> +<p>“There’s only one point we’re shy on,” said +Jack, when everything had been told and retold. +</p> +<p>“And that’s what?” asked Ed. +</p> +<p>“We haven’t found out yet who the strange +woman was who tried to get information out of +Freda, and who sent her the ’phone message.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, we’re just as well off without knowing +that,” said Cora. “I’m sure she was in with the +plotters. You know that man Bruce called her +‘Confidence Kate,’ as if he knew her well.” +</p> +<p>“You must have been terribly frightened, when +you found out there was no way of getting home +from the Junction,” said Marita. “I think I +should have gone out of my mind.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t believe her, Freda,” laughed Cora, putting +her arm around the timid girl. “Marita is +braver than she thinks. She offered to go into the +cabin with me when those horrid men were there, +and none of the others would.” +</p> +<p>“Come on over to Buler’s and see ’em dance,” +proposed Jack. “The <i>Dixie</i> is running again.” +</p> +<p>“We’ll go in the <i>Chelton</i>,” spoke Cora firmly, +and in that boat they went. And now for a time, +we will take leave of the motor girls. +</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:2em;'>THE END</p> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.07 --> +<!-- timestamp: Sat Jun 21 07:21:01 -0600 2008 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Motor Girls on Crystal Bay, by Margaret Penrose + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOTOR GIRLS ON CRYSTAL BAY *** + +***** This file should be named 25873-h.htm or 25873-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/8/7/25873/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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