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Title: The Motor Girls on the Coast; or, The Waif From the Sea

Author: Margaret Penrose

Release date: April 17, 2010 [eBook #32024]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.fadedpage.com

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOTOR GIRLS ON THE COAST; OR, THE WAIF FROM THE SEA ***

THE MOTOR GIRLS
ON THE COAST

Or

The Waif From the Sea

BY
MARGARET PENROSE

Copyright, 1913, by
Cupples & Leon Company

CONTENTS
CHAPTER | PAGE
I. | A Flash of Fire | 1
II. | The Strange Woman | 13
III. | A Strange Story | 29
IV. | On the Road | 41
V. | A Flock of Sheep | 52
VI. | Jack Is Lost | 59
VII. | Worries | 68
VIII. | The Girl | 75
IX. | Questions and Answers | 85
X. | Reunited | 90
XI. | The Girls Retaliate | 97
XII. | At the Cove | 106
XIII. | The Lighthouse Maid | 113
XIV. | Settling Down | 122
XV. | Launching the “Pet” | 130
XVI. | Suspicions Strengthened | 138
XVII. | The Light Keeper’s Story | 145
XVIII. | Belle Swims | 154
XIX. | Gathering Clouds | 158
XX. | The Storm | 166
XXI. | The Wreck | 172
XXII. | The Rescue | 179
XXIII. | The Floating Spars | 187
XXIV. | Safe Ashore | 194
XXV. | A Surprise | 199
XXVI. | The Story of Nancy Ford | 206
XXVII. | A Bold Attempt | 216
XXVIII. | A Strange Message | 224
XXIX. | At the Shark’s Tooth | 231
XXX. | Happy Days | 237

THE MOTOR GIRLS
ON THE COAST

CHAPTER I
A FLASH OF FIRE

Filled was the room with boys and girls–yes, literally filled; for they moved about so from chair to chair, from divan to sofa, from one side of the apartment to the other, now and then changing corners after the manner of the old-fashioned game of “puss,” that what they lacked in numbers they more than made up in activity. It was a veritable moving picture of healthful, happy young persons. And the talk―!

Questions and answers flew back and forth like tennis balls in a set of doubles. Repartee mingled with delicate sarcasm, and new, and almost indefinable shades of meaning were given to old and trite expressions.

“You can depend upon it, Sis!” drawled Jack Kimball as he stretched out his foot to see how far he could reach on the Persian rug without falling off his chair; “you can depend upon it that Belle will shy at the last moment. She’s afraid of water, the plain, common or garden variety of water. And when it comes to ripples, to say nothing of waves, she―”

“Cora, can’t you make him behave?” demanded the plump Belle in question.

“Belle’s too–er–too–tired to get up and do it herself,” scoffed Ed Foster. “May I oblige you, Belle, and tweak his nose for him?”

“Come and try it!” challenged Jack.

“Let Walter do it,” advised Bess, who, the very opposite type of her sister Belle, tall and willowy–æsthetic in a word–walked to another divan over which she proceeded to “drape herself,” as Cora expressed it.

“Well, let’s hear what Jack has to say,” proposed Walter Pennington, bringing his head of crisp brown hair a little closer to the chestnut one of Bess. “He has made a statement, and it is now–will you permit me to say it–it is now strictly up to him to prove it. Say on, rash youth, and let us hear why it is that Belle will shy at the water.”

“It’s a riddle, perhaps,” suggested Eline Carleton, a visitor from Chicago. “I love to guess riddles! Say it again, Jack, do!”

“Why is a raindrop―” began Norton Randolf, a newcomer in Chelton. “The answer is―”

“That you can bring water to a horse, even if you can’t make him stand still without hitching,” interrupted Walter. “Go on, Jack!”

“I don’t see much use in going on, if you fellows–and I beg your collective pardons–the ladies also–are to interrupt me all the while.”

“That’s so–let’s play the game fair,” suggested Eline. “Is it a riddle, Jack? Belle is afraid of the water because–let me see–because it can’t spoil her complexion no matter whether it’s salt or fresh–is that it?” and she glanced over at the slightly pouting Belle, whose rosy complexion was often the envy of less happily endowed girls.

“I’m not afraid of the water!” declared Belle. “I don’t see why he says so, anyhow. It–it isn’t–kind.”

“Forgive me, Belle!” and Jack “slumped” from his chair to his knees before the offended one. “I do beg your pardon, but you know that ever since we proposed this auto trip to Sandy Point Cove you’ve hung back on some pretext or other. You’ve even tried to get us to consent to a land trip. But, in the language of the immortal Mr. Shakespeare, there is nothing doing. We are going to the coast.”

“Of course I’m coming, too,” said Belle. “Stop it, Jack!” she commanded, drawing her plump hand away from his brown palm. “Behave yourself! Only,” she went on, as the others ceased laughing, “only sometimes the ocean seems so–so―”

“Oceany,” supplied Walter.

“Now Jack–and you other boys also,” said Cora in firm tones, “really it isn’t fair. Belle is nervous about water, just as the rest of us are about some other particular bugbear, but she is also reasonable, and she has even promised to learn to swim.”

Cora brushed from the mahogany centre table a few morsels of withered lilac petals, for, in spite of the most careful dusting and setting to rights of the room, those blooms had a persistent way of dropping off.

“Belle swim!” cried Jack, rising to his feet, since his advances had been repulsed, “why she would have to be done up in a barrel of life preservers, and then she’d insist on being anchored to shore by a ship’s cable. Belle swim!”

“Indeed!” retorted his sister, “you’ll soon find that the more nervous a girl is, the more persistent she is to learn to swim. She realizes the necessity of not losing her head in the water.”

“If she lost her head she wouldn’t swim very far,” put in Ed with gentle sarcasm.

“Put him out!” ordered Walter. “But say, when are we going to get down to the horrible details, and make some definite plans? This sort of a tea party suits me all right–don’t mistake me,” he hastened to add, with a glance at Cora, “but if we are going, let’s–go!”

“That’s what I say,” came from Belle. “You won’t find me holding back,” and she crossed the room to look out of the parlor window across the Kimball lawn.

“My! That’s a stunning dress!” exclaimed Jack. “Fish-line color, isn’t it?”

“He’s trying to make amends. Don’t you believe him,” echoed Walter.

“Fish-line color!” mocked Cora. “Oh, Jack, you are hopeless! That’s the newest shade of pearl.”

“Well, I almost hit it,” defended Jack. “Pearls are related to fishes, and fish lines are―”

“Oh, get a map!” groaned Ed. “Do you always have to make diagrams of your jokes that way, old man?”

“Let’s go outside,” proposed Cora. “I’m sure it’s getting stuffy in here―”

“Well, I like that!” cried Belle. “After she asked us to come, she calls us stuffy! Cora Kimball!”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way at all,” protested the young hostess. “But it is close and sultry. I shouldn’t wonder but what we’d have a thunder-shower.”

“Don’t say that!” pleaded Jack, in what Walter termed his theatrical voice. “A shower means water, and Belle and water―”

“Stop it!” commanded the pestered one. “Do come out,” and she linked her arm in that of Cora. “Maybe we can talk sense if we get in the open.”

The young people drifted from the room, out on the broad porch and thence down under the cedars that lined the path. It was late afternoon, and though the sky was clouding over, there shot through the masses now and then a shaft of sun that fell on the walk between the tree branches, bringing into relief the figures that “crunched” their way along the gravel, talking rapidly the while.

“Looks like a rare old reunion,” spoke Jack. “I guess we’ll do something worth while after all.”

“Don’t distress yourself too much, old man,” warned Ed. “You might get a sun-stroke, you know.”

“That’s the time you beat him to it,” chuckled Walter. “Do they do this sort of thing out your way?” and he addressed pretty Eline.

She blushed a charming pink under her coat of tan–a real biscuit brown, it had been voted by her admirers. She reminded them of a little red squirrel, for she had rather that same timid appearance, and she nearly always dressed in tan or brown, to match her complexion.

“Sometimes,” she murmured.

“Chicago―” began Jack in rather judicial tones.

“You let Chicago alone!” advised Walter. “I’m looking after Eline. I won’t let them hurt you,” and he moved closer to her. She seemed to shrink, whereat the others laughed.

They walked about for a little while, strolling out to the Kimball garage–a rebuilt stable, where three fine machines now stood, two of them having brought the visitors. Then when they had acquired the necessary breath of air, they went back into the house.

Eline matched herself up to a Chippendale chair, while Belle, always fond of plenty of room, found it on a divan. Bess had secured one of those Roman chairs curved up at both ends, seemingly intended to prevent anyone from sitting anywhere but in the exact center. She assumed a graceful pose–everything Bess did had that attribute.

“My! it is certainly getting warmer!” complained Walter. “Maybe we should have stayed out.”

“We can talk better in here,” was Cora’s opinion. “We’ll need all the breeze that we can get on high gear if this keeps up,” said Ed, with a sigh.

“Oh, but the dust!” exclaimed Bess. “I know I’ll simply choke, and―”

“Chew gum!” broke in Cora. “That absorbs the dust.”

“Couldn’t we chew chocolates as well?” asked Belle. “I would rather swallow half the dust of the roads from here to Sandy Point Cove and have my throat macadamized, than chew gum.”

“We’ll allow you to make yours chocolate,” conceded Jack, “though chocolates do not allow space for―”

“Gab,” put in Norton Randolf, who seldom said anything really nice to the girls. Yet he always managed to interest them with his drawl and indifference. “We ought to get out something that would stop the talk when we get to a close turn,” he proceeded. “I’m always afraid some one will release the emergency brake on a down grade, with a rude remark.”

“He’s real bright!” chuckled Ed. “I don’t think!”

“Now, please, let’s get down to business,” suggested Cora, crisply. “The time passes so quickly, and we have a lot of matters to arrange. Bess, I put an extra wrench in your tool-box. I remembered your ability in losing those handy little articles.”

“Thanks,” drawled Bess. “But why stop at a wrench? Why not duplicate all the fixings? What I don’t lose Belle does. But then,” and she turned mocking, pleading eyes on Jack, “your brother is such a dear for fixing us up. I guess the Flyaway will be there at the finish.”

“Is it very far where you are going–to Sandy Point Cove?” asked Eline.

“Oh, yes,” answered Walter, “it’s miles and miles, and then more miles. But we are all going, little girl, so don’t worry,” and he struck a stiffly-heroic attitude to show his valor.

“It is a good thing you have a livery-stable-sized garage,” remarked Ed to Cora. “It holds all the cars very nicely.”

“Yes, there isn’t another in Chelton, except the public ones, so well arranged,” added Walter. “But we might have waited until morning to bring the machines here.”

“No, I thought it was best to have them here the night before we were to start,” explained Cora, who was to assume the leadership of the prospective trip. “Some of us might have been tempted to go out on a little spin this evening, and an accident might have occurred that would delay us.”

“Did the Petrel get off safely?” inquired Ed.

“Yes,” replied Jack. “It’s in a regular motor boat crate that the man said would stand the journey. I saw it put in the freight car myself, and well braced. It will be there waiting for us when we get to the Cove.”

“I hope it runs,” murmured Walter.

“Don’t be a pessimist–or is it an optimist? I never can tell which from what,” spoke Belle. “I mean don’t be one who’s always looking on the dark side. Look for the silver lining of the clouds.”

“Say, it’s clouding up all right,” declared Jack, as he glanced from the window.

A distant rumble was heard at that moment.

“That’s thunder!” exclaimed Belle, “and we have no umbrellas.” She glanced at her sister and Eline.

“Better have it rain to-night than to-morrow, when we want to start,” said Cora, philosophically.

“Sit by me, Belle,” pleaded Jack. “I won’t let the bad thunder hurt you.”

“We’ll all sit by each other!” proposed Walter.

This was a signal for a general change of places, each boy pretending to protect a girl.

“Now don’t let’s get off the track,” went on Cora, when quiet had been restored. “Are you all sure that you want to go directly to the Cove, and don’t care for a little side trip before reaching there? Of course it’s going to be fine at the shore, and there’s enough variety so that each one can find something she or he likes–rocks, ocean, sandy beach, a lighthouse―”

“Where they do light housekeeping?” asked Ed, softly.

“Please don’t,” Cora begged.

“Any nice girls down there?” asked Jack, making eyes at Eline.

They all started as a particularly loud clap of thunder followed a vivid flash of lightning, and the wind rose suddenly, moaning through the trees.

“I don’t believe it will amount to much,” was Walter’s opinion. “Probably only a wind storm.”

“But I guess I’d better put down the windows on the West side,” remarked Cora. “I’ll be back in a moment―”

As she spoke there came a dash of rain against the side of the house, and another flash of lightning was followed by a vibrating peal.

Cora screamed.

“Oh, what is it?” demanded Bess, nervously. Jack clasped her hand.

“Look!” cried Cora. “The garage–it’s on fire. I just saw a flash of flame! Our autos will be burned!”

“We’ve got to get ’em out!” declared Jack. “Come on, fellows!”

He made a dash for the door. Ed leaped through the low, open window. Walter followed Jack. The girls stood uncertain what to do.

“The lightning struck it!” gasped Eline.

“We must help to get out the autos!” cried Cora. “We must help the boys to fight the fire!”

“Telephone in an alarm!” suggested Bess.

“The autos first! The cars first! We must get them out!” Cora cried as she hurried out of the door, the three other girls trailing after. “If we get the cars out the barn can go!”

CHAPTER II
THE STRANGE WOMAN

Only for an instant had Cora Kimball hesitated. Usually she was even more prompt than her brother Jack to get into action, but the flash of fire she had seen in the garage, and the thought of the valuable cars stored there–cars in which they were to make their delightful summer trip–seemed to paralyze her for the time being. Then she was galvanized into life and action.

“Cora, there comes your car out!” cried Bess, as the Whirlwind, the powerful Kimball auto, was seen to poke its hood from the now blazing barn. Ed had been the first to reach the structure, and, quickly switching on the self-starter, had run the machine out.

“I guess they can get out the others!” said Belle, as Walter and Jack dashed inside.

Cora suddenly turned and ran back toward the house.

“Where are you going?” asked Eline. “Oh dear! The whole place will soon be afire!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” Cora called back, over her shoulder. “I’m going to get some extinguishers! Maybe the boys can’t reach the one in the barn. It’s our only chance–an extinguisher. Water is the worst thing you can put on a gasoline fire. Get some pails of sand, girls!”

“That’s right–sand!” yelled Ed, as he leaped from Cora’s car, having taken it a safe distance down the drive. He went back on the run to help Jack and Ed. The rain was now pelting down, but unmindful of it, the girls drew nearer the burning barn, while Cora sped toward the house.

“Sand–pails?” asked Belle.

“Yes!” cried Bess. “There are some pails over there!” and she pointed toward a pile of gardening tools. “The watering can will be good, too. Scoop up the sand–use your hands!”

She rushed over and picked up one of the pails, an example followed by her sister and Eline.

“Oh, why don’t those boys come out!” cried the latter. “Maybe they are–burned!” she faltered.

“Perhaps they can’t get our car started,” said Bess. “Sometimes it just won’t respond!”

Quickly they filled the pails with sand, and while this is being done, and other preparations under way to fight the fire and save the autos I will take just a moment to tell my new readers something about the characters in this story, and how they figured in previous books of the series.

The first volume, in which Cora Kimball and her chums were introduced, was entitled “The Motor Girls,” and in that they succeeded in unraveling a mystery of the road, though it was not as easy as they at first thought it might be.

Then came “The Motor Girls on a Tour; Or, Keeping a Strange Promise,” and how strange that promise was, not even Cora realized at the time. But in spite of difficulties it was kept and a restoration was made. In the third book, “The Motor Girls at Lookout Beach,” there came the quest for two runaways.

That girls–even young girls–do things on impulse was made clear to Cora and her friends when they sought after the rather foolish creatures who ran such a risk. That only good came of it was as much due to Cora as to anyone else.

“The Motor Girls Through New England” gave Cora and her companions a chance to see something of life under strange circumstances. That one of them would be captured by the gypsies never for a moment entered their heads. But it happened, and for a time it looked as though the results might be serious. But once again Cora triumphed.

The volume immediately preceding the present one is entitled “The Motor Girls on Cedar Lake; Or, The Hermit of Fern Island.” Who the hermit was, and the strange secret he kept so long, and how it was finally solved you will find set down in that book. Then came the return to normal life, but with the prospect of more adventures, on the verge of which we now find Cora and her friends.

They were ready for the summer vacation, and had voted to spend it at Sandy Point Cove–a resort on the Atlantic coast. It was the evening before the start, and they had gathered at Cora’s house to arrange final details.

They were to motor to the cove, taking their time, for it was no small distance from Chelton where our friends lived. The motor boat Petrel sometimes just called Pet for short, had been shipped on ahead.

I think I have already mentioned the names of the young folks. Cora generally came first, by reason of her personality. She was a splendid girl, tall and rather dark, and had somewhat of a commanding air, though she was not at all fond of her own way, and always willing to give in to others if it could be made plain that their way was best. Her mother was a wealthy widow, and there was Jack, Cora’s brother, taller than she, darker perhaps and was he handsomer? Cora had, some time before, been given a fine large touring car, and Jack owned a small runabout.

Walter Pennington was Jack’s chum, both of them attending Exmouth College, where, of late, Ed Foster had taken a post-graduate course. Ed was very fond of hunting and fishing, and considered himself quite a sportsman.

The Robinson twins were daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Perry Robinson, the father being a wealthy railroad man. He had given the girls a fine car–the Flyaway it had been christened–while Jack called his the Get There. Sometimes it did, and sometimes it didn’t. To go back to the girls. Belle, or Isabel, as she had been christened, was plump and rosy, and her sister Bess, tall, willowy and fair, her rather light hair contrasting with the brown locks of Belle.

Eline Carleton, from Chicago, a distant cousin of Cora had been invited to spend the summer with the Kimballs, and was to go to the Cove. Norton Randolf was a newcomer in town, said to be of a wealthy family. He had only lately made the acquaintance of Jack and his chums, but was rather well liked.

Chelton, as my previous readers know, was a most charming semi-country town, nestling in a bend of the Chelton River, a stream of picturesque beauty. The location was in New England, not so far from the New York line that the trip to the metropolis was a fatiguing one. The young people had often taken it on pleasure bent. And now, not to keep you any longer from the story, which I am afraid I interrupted at a rather critical point, I will merely remark, in passing, that other characters will be mentioned from time to time, some of whom have appeared in previous books.

In the excitement attending the fire, Bess was puffing on her way to the garage, carrying a pail of wet sand that she had scooped up from the driveway. She was followed by the other girls.

“Oh, see the smoke!” cried Eline. “That must be gasoline burning!”

“It is,” assented Belle. “Oh, do hurry–somebody!”

Cora came running out of the house, carrying long tin extinguishers, one in each hand, and one under her right arm. She had just bought a new lot, and had intended hanging them in the garage, but had forgotten it.

“These will be just the thing!” she cried. “Don’t be frightened! There’s not much gasoline in the barn. If we can get out the cars―”

“Something must be the matter!” cried Bess. “The boys–they are in there yet–they may be overcome!”

As if to deny this startling suggestion Jack fairly shot out of the smoke in the Flyaway–the car of the twins.

“They have left their own car to the last!” gasped Belle.

“They had to!” Cora panted. “They could only take them as they stood, you know. They were in line. Mine was first, then yours. Oh Jack! is it very bad?”

“A mean little blaze, Sis! Did you ’phone in an alarm?” He wiped his streaming eyes, and, bringing the car up alongside the Whirlwind, leaped out to go back to his chums.

“Here! Take these extinguishers!” his sister cried. “I’ll get the department in a minute!”

She tossed the tin tubes to Jack, who, catching them, ran back toward the barn. It was raining harder than ever now, but no one seemed to mind it. The girls were totally oblivious of their smart gowns, now badly bedraggled.

“Take this sand!” wailed Belle. “I don’t know what to do with it!”

“Grab this sand from the girls!” yelled Jack to Ed, Walter and Norton, who, at that moment came out in Jack’s car. “Throw it on the blazing gasoline! What kept you?”

“Your car wouldn’t crank!” cried Walter. “It’s all right now, though–just scorched a little in the rear!”

The three lads, Norton clinging to the run-board, got the car to safety, and then raced back, grabbed the sand from Belle, Bess and Eline, and followed Jack into the garage, which was now under a pall of smoke.

The tin tops of the extinguishers were yanked off, and the chemical powder sprinkled toward the blaze. Sand was also cast on it, but the fire had spread more than the boys had thought. The choking fumes, too, drove the amateur blaze-fighters back.

Again Cora came running from the house through the drenching rain.

“I can’t get the fire department on the wire!” she cried. “Something is wrong with the telephone!”

“It’s the storm, I guess,” answered Jack, coming to the door of the old barn that had been converted into a garage. He had to have a breath of air.

“Oh, can we help?” cried Eline.

“Better stay out,” gasped Ed, as he too, came for a little relief. “I guess we can keep it from spreading.”

By this time several men had run in from the street.

“Where’s your water?” asked one.

“Don’t want any!” cried Jack. “It’s gasoline. Get more sand if you want to–dry, if you can find it!”

He kicked one of the empty pails toward the men. A flash of lightning blazed over the structure, and the thunder rumbled as the rain came down harder than ever.

“This rain’ll put it out soon enough!” shouted one of the men helpers. The boys had gone back into the barn, leaving the girls outside.

“I can get some sand in that!” cried Belle, as she saw a pan in front of the dog’s kennel–it was used to contain his dinner. The girl began scooping up in it some of the damp gravel from the drive.

“Don’t! Don’t!” cried her sister. “Drop it. You mustn’t hold metal in a thunder storm.”

“Oh, I’m going in!” exclaimed Eline. “I can’t bear to be in the open when it lightens.”

She darted toward the garage. Instinctively the others followed. There seemed to be less smoke coming out now, and no blaze could be seen.

“I guess they can stop it,” murmured Cora. “Oh, I do hope they can!”

“Let’s go in and help!” cried Bess. “They may need us!”

Bravely the motor girls entered the garage. A shift in the wind had blown the smoke away from the door. They could see the boys and men fighting the flames that were in a far corner of the main room.

Belle suddenly ran forward and dashed on the blaze the pan of sand that she had not relinquished.

“Bravo!” cried Jack. “You’re a heroess!”

He held his hand to his smarting eyes.

“Let me take that extinguisher!” begged Belle, plucking a half-emptied one from him.

“Here’s one for me!” exclaimed Bess, picking it up off the floor. It had not been opened. She knocked off the top and, doing as the others did, she sent the powder in a sweeping motion toward the flames. Some of the men ran out for more sand. The blaze was being well fought now. There was really no need for the fire department.

Above the place where the autos were stored were rooms formerly occupied by the coachman and his family, before Mrs. Kimball disposed of her horses. The stairs to these rooms were boxed in, a door leading directly to the path that went to the driveway.

“I can go up there and get another extinguisher!” cried Cora, indicating the stairway. “I know there’s one there.”

“No need to!” exclaimed Ed, who again had to get a breath of fresh air. But Cora was already in the enclosed stairway.

The next moment she shrieked:

“Oh, what is it? Oh dear! Who is it? Come quick–someone!” Everyone was startled–even the danger of the now almost extinguished fire spreading again could not detract from the import of danger they recognized in Cora’s voice.

Some one seemed to answer her from the stairway.

“Don’t! Please don’t! I did not do it! Let me go! Please do!”

“What is it, Cora?” called Jack, preparing to go to her.

His sister had found a woman in the hallway–a strange woman who seemed much excited. Her pleading tones as she confronted Cora touched the girl’s heart.

“Don’t let them know I am here–not yet!” begged the stranger. “I can explain–everything. Oh, so much depends on this! Please do as I say!”

“All right!” said Cora, making a sudden resolve. “I’ll let you explain.”

“But keep the others back–they are coming!”

“I’ll send them back.” Cora took a few steps toward the door. She could hear some one running across the garage floor.

“It’s all right!” cried Cora. “Go back and fight the fire, boys. I’ll be there in a minute. I want to get that other extinguisher to make certain. But I thought a rat―”

She knew that would be explanation enough for her cries, and from where they were the boys, girls, and men now in the garage could not see her or the strange woman.

“A rat!” cried Jack, with a laugh, as he heard his sister’s word. “The idea of being frightened at a rat in a time of fire!”

“I guess the rodents will make short tracks,” was Ed’s opinion. “Come on, we’ve got to give it a little more, Jack!”

The boys went back to the fire, Bess, Belle and Eline, who had taken shelter in the garage, watching them. It was pouring too hard to stand outside, and, now that the smoke had mostly disappeared, there was not much discomfort. The danger, too, was practically over, as a can of gasoline that had not burned had been set outside. There had been really more smoke than fire from the first.

Cora went back to the strange woman.

“You need not be afraid,” spoke the girl, in a tone that gave encouragement. “We will not blame you too much–until we have heard your story. But of course I must know who you are.”

“Yes–yes,” answered the woman. She sank down on the stairs. The place was free of smoke, and some distance from the blaze. Suddenly the stranger arose, and clutching Cora’s arm in a grip that hurt, and that showed the nervous tension under which she was laboring, she whispered:

“I know I can trust you–I can tell by your face. But the–others!” she gasped.

“Leave it to me,” answered Cora. “I may be able to think of a way to help you. Go over into the kitchen, and say Miss Cora sent you. It is so dark now the others will not see you. Hurry.”

With her brain in a whirl–wondering upon what strange mystery she had stumbled, Cora thrust the woman forth from the stable. Then, seeing that she advanced toward the house, the girl groped her way up the stairs to get the extinguisher. When she came down the fire was sufficiently conquered as not to need more attention.

“Did a rat get you?” asked Jack. “Say, you do look pale, Sis,” for the electric lights, with which the garage was illuminated, had been turned on. Truly Cora seemed white.

“There are some big ones up there,” she remarked evasively, wondering if the woman would really go to the house.

With unsteady steps the stranger made her way to the kitchen, where two rather frightened maids were watching the progress made in fighting the fire.

“Miss–Miss Cora told me to come here–and wait for her,” faltered the woman. She made no effort to ascend the steps of the back porch.

“Come right in,” urged Nettie. “Or perhaps you would rather sit out here and watch. I’ll get you a chair.”

“Yes, I would–thank you.”

She walked up and sat down.

“I–I had rather be out in the air,” she went on.

Back in the garage the young people were seeing that no lingering spark remained.

“It is all out,” remarked Bess. “Oh, but we’re so soiled and–and smoky.”

“Regular bacon,” remarked Jack with a grin. He looked like a minstrel because of the grime.

“Oh, wasn’t it a narrow escape!” gasped Belle. “Could the lightning have struck?”

“It didn’t seem so,” remarked Cora, not now so nervous. But she was still puzzled over the presence of that strange woman in the garage at the time of the fire.

“It was gasoline–whatever else it was,” declared Jack. “I can tell that by the smell. Maybe some of that we used in an open pan to clean my machine exploded,” he went on to his chums.

“Could it go off by spontaneous combustion?” asked Ed. “It’s possible,” admitted Walter. “Unless some one was smoking in here–some tramp.”

“Oh, no!” protested Cora quickly. The woman did not seem a tramp–certainly she did not smoke.

“We must get the cars back in here,” said Jack. “The rain is slackening now.” This was so, for the shower, though severe, had not been of long duration. “We want them in shape for to-morrow,” he went on.

“Are we going after all this?” asked Belle.

“Certainly!” exclaimed Cora. “This fire didn’t amount to much.”

“I’m much obliged to you,” spoke Jack to the passing workmen who had come in to help. Jack passed them some money.

“We’ll help you roll the cars in,” suggested one.

“Yes, it will be better to roll them by hand than take chances on starting them up, and making sparks,” said Jack. “Come on, boys!”

“Come on, girls!” echoed Cora. “We’ll go to the house.”

While her brother, his chums and the men were putting the autos back in the garage the girls ran through the slackening rain to the rear porch. There Cora found the strange woman sitting, pathetically weary, in the chair Nettie had brought out. “Oh–some one is here!” gasped Belle, who had nearly stumbled over the figure in the darkness. Then one of the maids opened the kitchen door, and a flood of light came out on the porch.

“Wait a minute, girls,” said Cora, in a low voice. “I think I have a little surprise for you.” She motioned to the strange woman.

CHAPTER III
A STRANGE STORY

“Come inside,” Cora said, while the others looked on in amazement. Who could this strange, elderly woman be? Where had she come from? And Cora appeared to know her.

“One of Cora’s charity-cronies,” Ed whispered to Norton, who stood inquisitively near. “Come on. She knows how to take care of that sort.” The boys after putting back the autos had come on to the house.

Jack and Walter were evidently of Ed’s opinion, for they also passed into the house with not more than a glance at the woman. Bess lingered near Cora.

“We will go in here,” Cora said kindly, as she opened from the kitchen a door that led into a room used for special occasions, when many dishes were served. “Then I can have a chance to talk with you. Perhaps you are hungry?” she added.

The woman looked about her as if dazed. Cora saw that she had a face of rather uncommon type. Her deep-set gray eyes were faded to the very tint of her gray hair, and her cheeks, though sunken, outlined features that indicated refinement. Her clothes were very much worn, but comparatively clean and of good material. She wore no hat, nor other head covering.

“Yes, I am hungry, I think,” the woman said. “But I need not keep you from your friends. If you will just have a cup of tea sent in here to me.”

“Oh, they don’t mind,” Cora said, with a laugh. “My friends can be with me any time.” The other girls had gone to get rid of the grime of the fire, as had the boys.

“Very well,” said the woman. “You are so kind.”

Cora scarcely heard this for she was out in the kitchen giving some orders. She soon returned to the little room, and took a chair opposite her guest.

“How did you come to be in the barn?” she asked.

“I went in–to rest,” answered the woman wearily.

“Of course,” Cora said, as if that were an explanation. “But I won’t ask you to talk any more until you have had your tea. There,” as Nettie placed a tray of refreshment beside her, “let me give you your tea first, then you will feel more like talking.” The tea was poured when Jack entered. He looked at Cora questioningly.

“This woman was out in the storm,” Cora truthfully explained without making a clear statement, “and I insisted that she come in.”

“Why, of course,” assented the good-natured brother. “But say, Cora,” and he changed the subject tactfully. “Wasn’t it a good thing mother was not at home? She would have been scared to death.”

“Oh, I know we always have to get mother off first,” she replied. “When we are arranging a trip I count on–happenings.”

“This is your brother?” asked the woman, who seemed to have revived under the influence of that cup of tea.

“Yes,” Cora replied. “Have some of the ham. And some bread.”

A particularly sharp flash of lightning blazed through the room. The storm was not over yet. The three girls from the parlor threw the door of the pantry open, and stood there with very white faces. Even Belle, the rosy one, had gone pale again.

“Oh, do come in here,” wailed Belle. “I am so frightened!”

“With all the others near you?” Cora asked, smiling. Then, seeing the actual terror of her friends she did stand up to comply. “I suppose it was the fire,” apologized Eline. “We are especially nervous to-night.”

“Yes, do go,” begged the woman, “and when I have finished, I will show my gratitude by telling you all a very strange story. One forgets fear, sometimes, when a matter of deeper interest is brought up.”

“Very well,” assented Cora. “I will be back in a few minutes, and then we will all be primed for the wonderful story.”

“What is it?” whispered Jack in the passage-way, as the girls entered the library.

“Hush!” Cora cautioned. “I found her–in the barn.”

“The barn! Before the fire?” he gasped. “Did she―?”

“After it was–going,” Cora managed to say. Then she put her finger to her lips.

The young folks, at least the girls, insisted upon huddling in the very darkest corner of the room.

“Don’t go near the phonograph,” cautioned Eline. “Musical sounds are very dangerous during a storm, I’ve heard.”

Then the absurdity of “musical sounds” from a silent phonograph occurred to her, and she laughed as quickly as did the others.

“Well it’s metal at any rate,” she amended, “and that is just as bad.” “Who’s your friend, Cora?” Ed asked, in an off-hand way.

“Oh, she is going to tell us a wonderful story,” put in Bess before Cora could reply. “Wait until she has finished her tea.”

“She looks like a deserted wife,” Belle ventured softly, in her usual strain of romance.

“What’s the indication?” asked Walter somewhat facetiously. “Now, do I look anything like a deserted lover?”

Cora got up and went out into the pantry again. She found the woman standing, waiting for her.

“I do not know if I was wise or foolish to have made that promise,” she said. “But as I have made it I will stand by it. I feel also that to talk will do me good. And, after all, what have I to fear more than I have already suffered?”

“We have no idea of insisting on your confidence,” Cora assured her. “But, of course, I would like to know why you went in our garage.”

“And I fully intend to tell you,” replied the woman. “Are you all young folks?”

“Just now, we are alone,” answered Cora. “We are going away to-morrow, and were finishing our arrangements when the barn caught fire.”

“I scarcely look fit to enter your–other room,” the woman demurred, with a glance at her worn clothing. “But I assure you I have been no place where there has been illness, or anything of that sort.”

“You are all right,” insisted Cora. “Come along. I am sure the girls are more frightened than ever now, for the storm is more furious.” The thunder and lightning seemed to be having “a second spasm,” as Jack put it.

A hush fell upon the little party as the strange woman entered. Even the careless one, Norton, looked serious. Somehow the presence of a gray-haired, lonely woman, in that unusually merry crowd, seemed almost a painful contrast.

“Sit here,” said Cora, pulling a chair out in a convenient position. “And won’t you take off your cape?”

“No, thank you,” replied the stranger. “I must talk while I feel like it, or I might disappoint you.” This was said with a smile, and the young folks noted that though the woman showed agitation, her eyes were now bright, and her voice firm.

“Very well,” Cora acceded. Then the woman told her strange story.

“Some time ago I was employed in an office. I had charge of the cataloging of confidential papers. I had been with the firm only a short time, when one day,” she paused abruptly, “one day I was very busy.

“A big piece of business had just been transacted, and there was a lot of ready cash in the office. It was my duty to see that the record of all finished business was entered in the books, and I was intent upon that task.”

Again she paused, and in the interval there came a flame of lightning followed by a roar of thunder.

“My, what a storm!” gasped the woman. “I’m glad I am not out in it.”

The remark seemed pathetic, and served to distract the most nervous of the girls from a fear that they otherwise would have felt.

“We are glad you are with us,” Belle ventured, as Cora hastened out into the kitchen, to make sure that all was right there.

The maids had been startled. Nettie was assuring a new girl that thunder storms were never disastrous in Chelton, but the latter had suddenly become prayerful, and would not answer the simplest questions. Assuring herself that Nettie could take care of the girl and two newly hired men, who had assembled in the kitchen, Cora went back to the library.

“Well, that day,” continued the woman, “marked my life-doom. As I worked over my books, and counted the money, I saw two men standing in the door. A young girl clerk–Nancy Ford–was nearest to them. As she saw them she screamed, and darted past them out–out somewhere in this big world, and I have never been able to find her since.”

The woman put up both hands to cover her pallid face, and sighed heavily. No one spoke. Eline had shifted her chair, unconsciously, very near the stranger, and sat with rapt attention waiting for the continuation of the story.

“Then,” went on the woman, “when Nancy Ford was gone I saw the men come toward me! I screamed, put my hand upon the cash I was counting–and then–they hit me!”

“Oh!” gasped Cora, involuntarily. “They robbed you!”

“Yes, they robbed me!” repeated the woman. “Not only of my employer’s money, but of my reputation, for the story I told afterward was not believed!”

“How dreadful!” exclaimed Bess, clasping her hands.

The boys, less demonstrative, did not interrupt with a single syllable. But they were impressed, nevertheless.

“Yes, I was discharged! I was shocked into a nervous collapse, and ever since I have been searching for Nancy Ford. Why did she run before any harm was done? Why did she flee at the sight of the men, who showed no indication of being robbers? Why did Nancy Ford not return to clear my name? I went to the hospital and was there for months. Oh, such terrible months! I was threatened with brain fever, from that mental searching for Nancy, but she never returned!”

Belle was stirred to sympathy by the recital, and, while no one saw her, brushed by the woman’s chair and slid into the gaping pocket of her cape her own little silver purse.

“My name is Margaret Raymond–Mrs. Raymond. I am a widow,” went on the woman finally, “and I am not ashamed or afraid now to have the world know who I am. I loved Nancy: she was almost like a daughter to me, and I would have trusted her with anything. But now–she has deserted me! And no one else can ever clear my name!”

“No one else?” Cora repeated.

“Some of the firm members believed my story, but it was vague and one could scarcely blame them for doubting it,” said Mrs. Raymond.

“Didn’t it look bad for the girl?” Jack asked. “She ran away?”

“Yes, it did, but a girl somehow has a better chance than an old woman,” said Mrs. Raymond sadly, though she was not so very old. “They thought she was scared into flight, and afraid to come back. Oh, when sympathy is on one’s side it is easy to make excuses! I was on my way to look for work when the storm overtook me. I went in your garage. My hat blew away.”

“We will do anything we can to assist you,” Cora declared. “Your story seems true, and we have the advantage of some leisure time.”

“And a good heart, besides brains,” the woman said emphatically. “My child, you have a great chance in life. May no misfortunes rob you of it.”

The storm had moderated somewhat. The strain of the strange story made a deep impression upon the listeners, and the young men, quick to realize this effect upon their girl friends, now proposed that they all go outside and see “what the weather looked like.”

Anxious to know the prospects for the long auto tour they were to take on the following morning, all now hurried to the side porch, leaving the woman alone.

“My, isn’t it beautiful!” exclaimed Eline. “How sweet everything smells!”

“And that little breeze,” said Ed, “will soon dry up the mud. I am glad it did not rain longer.”

“If it did,” added Walter, “we would have to load up with planks to bridge over the bad places. Can’t depend on rail fences over where we’re going.”

For some time they stood admiring the newly-made beauties of the wonderful out-doors, then Cora thought perhaps she might arrange for Mrs. Raymond to stay in the servants’ quarters over night. They had left the woman rather abruptly, she feared.

Cora asked Jack what he thought, and he agreed that the woman’s story sounded plausible, and that it was their duty to do what they could to assist her, if they could. But he did not seem very keen.

With the intention of asking Mrs. Raymond to remain, Cora left the others and went back to the library.

No one was in the room!

“Perhaps she went into the kitchen,” Cora thought, opening the door through the hallway to that room.

“Where’s Mrs. Raymond; the strange woman?” she asked Nettie.

“She did not come out here,” replied the maid. “Isn’t she with you?”

“No, we left her in the library,” Cora replied, and without further inquiry she looked down the driveway and could just see a vanishing shadow turn into the road. But it may not have been Mrs. Raymond.

“I guess she’s gone,” continued Cora to Nettie. “And I am sorry, for we wanted to keep her for the night. Well, I hope the poor creature was cheered up some. She seemed to need encouragement. We did all we could, perhaps.”

“Is she gone?” asked Bess, when they all had come in again, having satisfied themselves that fine weather was promised for the morning. “I hoped she would tell us more about the Ford girl–give us a description of her, at least. We might run across her somewhere.”

“It all seemed rather weird,” said Cora. “But really we must be on the lookout. Who knows but we may help unravel the mystery?”

“But why did the woman hurry off so?” asked Belle, as if any one present knew.

“Suppose she thought we might think she caused the fire,” Ed answered. “It looked strange for her to be in the barn at that time. But anyone could see that it was a small explosion–too much gas somewhere.”

“Well, all we know about Nancy is her name,” observed Cora. “We will have to trust to motor girls’ luck for the rest. But I love a mystery.”

“Of course,” Eline declared, “if we could have the wonderful luck to find that girl we might be able to clear the poor woman’s name. It looked to me as if the girl was in league with the robbers when she ran before they entered the room.”

“No use speculating,” Cora commented. “Better finish our arrangements. It’s getting late.”

CHAPTER IV
ON THE ROAD

There was more “finishing” to be done than even Cora had thought, and, with her usual habit of looking after matters, she had counted on much. But the thunder-shower, the fire, the finding of the strange woman, and listening to her still more strange story all combined to make the affair of getting ready for the trip in the morning no easy one.

But Cora was determined to carry out the plans as agreed on, so when her friends showed a disposition to delay, and dwell in conversation on the recent happenings, she “brought them up with a round turn,” as Jack expressed it.

“I just can’t get over that queer woman,” observed Belle, during a lull in the talk, while Cora was jotting down in a pretty red leather notebook some matters she did not want to forget. “She had such–such a patient face.”

“Maybe she was tired of waiting for a new one,” suggested Norton, who was usually flippant. “I’ve heard that ladies can get new faces at these–er–beauty parlors.”

“It’s a pity there isn’t some sort of a parlor where one can get–manners!” murmured Eline. She seemed to have taken a distinct dislike to the new young man.

Belle and Bess, who had overheard the remark, looked rather askance at Cora’s relative, but said nothing.

“Now then!” exclaimed the young hostess, “since you have all gotten rid of as much of the effects of the fire as possible, we’ll go over the main points to be sure nothing will go wrong. Oh, that’s something I almost forgot. I must send mamma our address.”

Mrs. Kimball had gone to Europe for a summer tour, leaving her daughter and son at home. When they went to the Cove the house would be in charge of a care-taker. Cora had not fully determined on her vacation plans when her mother went away, and now there was necessity for forwarding the address.

“I’ll attend to that the last thing to-night,” Cora went on. “I’ll send mother a long letter, and write again as soon as we get settled at the Cove.”

“If we ever do get settled,” murmured Walter. “Say, boys, am I any less–hammy?” and he sniffed at his coat about which still lingered the smell of gasoline.

“You’re of the ham–saltiest–or hammiest!” declared Ed.

“You may break, you may burn the garage if you will

The taste of the gasoline stays with it still.”

It was Walter who mis-quoted this couplet.

“Oh, boys, please do be quiet!” begged Cora. “We will never get anything done if you don’t!”

“It strikes me we got considerable done a short time ago, when we put that fire out,” remarked Jack. Cora looked sharply at him.

“I’ll be good, Sis–don’t shoot–I’m coming down,” he exclaimed, and he “slumped” at Eline’s feet and made a fruitless endeavor to hold her slim, pretty hand.

“Stop!” she commanded with a blush.

“That’s my privilege!” called Ed, as he made a quick move, but the visitor from the Windy City escaped by getting behind Bess, who was in the Roman chair.

“If you don’t―” began Cora determinedly, and then she changed her tone. “Please―” she pleaded.

“After that–nothing but silence!” came from Walter. “Go easy, boys!”

Silence did reign–or, considering the shower, might one not say “rain” for a moment? Cora resumed.

“We are to start as early in the morning as possible,” she said. “I figured–or rather Jack and Ed did–that the trip to Sandy Point Cove would take about three days–perhaps four if–if anything happened like tire trouble. But we are in no hurry, and we can spend five days on the road if we like.

“My cousin, Mrs. Fordam, will go along with us as a chaperone, so that stopping at hotels will be perfectly–proper.”

“I thought it was always proper to stop at a hotel–when you had the price!” ventured Jack.

“You don’t understand,” declared his sister, giving him a look. “So Cousin Mary will be on the trip with us. I guess you all know her, except Eline and Norton. She’s jolly and funny.”

“Why can’t she go right on to the Cove with us, and chaperone there, too?” Belle wanted to know.

“Because Mamma’s aunt–Mrs. Susan Chester–is to look after us there. You’ll like Aunt Susan, I’m sure.”

“Are we to call her that?” Ed asked.

“Of course–she won’t mind,” spoke Cora. “Well, as I said, we’ll go to the Cove–taking whatever time we please. There are two bungalows there, you know, and we girls are to have the larger one, so―”

“Well, I like that!” cried Jack, sitting up. “As if we fellows could dress in a band-box.”

“Oh, your place is plenty big enough–you know it is!” retorted his sister. “And you know when you and I went down to look at them you said you liked the smaller one best, anyhow.”

“Did I?” inquired Jack, slightly bewildered.

“You certainly did!”

“Now will you be good?” laughed Walter.

“We girls need more room anyhow,” was the opinion of Bess, calmly given.

“Nothing more to say,” declared Ed, sententiously. “I know how many dresses each of you is going to take now. Slay on, Macbeth!” and he closed his eyes resignedly.

“Everything will be ready for us at the bungalows,” went on Cora. “Aunt Susan has promised to see to that.”

“How about–er–grub–not to put too fine a point upon it?” asked Jack.

“The refreshments will be there,” Cora answered, pointedly.

“Oh my! Listen to that!” mocked Ed.

“We’ll have to put on our glad rags for dinner every night, fellows–notice that–I said dinner! Ahem!”

“Please be quiet!” begged Cora. “Now we’re at the bungalows,” and she consulted her list.

“Come out for a swim” cried Walter, imitating a seal, and barking like one.

“I mean in imagination,” added Cora. “There, I think that is all. Our trunks and suit cases are nearly packed, Cousin Mary will be here later to-night, ready to start in the morning with us. Our route is all mapped out, and I guess we can count on a good time.”

“Are the bungalows near the beach?” asked Eline.

“Almost on it,” answered Cora. “At high tide and with the wind on shore the spray comes on the porches!”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Belle, apprehensively. “I know―”

“You’re going to learn to swim, you promised!” cried Cora. “Can anyone think of anything else?”

They all could, and promptly proceeded to do so, a perfect babel of talk ensuing. Some forgotten points were jotted down and then, as it was getting late, the young people dispersed, promising to meet early in the morning. It had stopped raining when they went out, so there was no need to hunt up umbrellas.

“Cora,” said Jack, a bit solemnly, as he was helping her lock up for the night, “was there anything about that strange woman that you didn’t tell us?”

“Not a thing, Jack, except that I discovered her in the stairway that time I screamed, and I let you think it was a rat. Then I told her to hurry in the house without being seen. I saw she was in no condition to talk then. That was all.”

“Good for you, Sis. You managed it all right. But I would like to get at the bottom of her trouble.”

“So would I. Perhaps we may–later. Good-night,” and they separated.

The next day was all that could be wished for. The sun shone with revived and determined energy, as it always seems to after a rain, when it “has been deprived of its proper set the night before,” to quote Jack. The roads had dried up nicely, and everything pointed to a most delightful trip.

An investigation by Jack in the daytime proved that the fire had done very little damage to the barn. A close inspection seemed to indicate that spontaneous combustion of some gasoline carelessly left in an open can had caused it. Jack’s car was not enough scorched to be more than barely noticeable from the rear.

Cousin Mary had arrived on time, and helped Cora get ready. Jack ran the three cars out of the stable before his friends arrived, and had them ready for the passengers. Gasoline and oil tanks had been filled the day before, and the motors gone over to insure as perfect service as possible. Tires had also been looked after.

Jack and Ed were to go together in the former’s Get There, Cora, in her big maroon Whirlwind would have Eline as her passenger, the tonneau being taken up with luggage.

Norton Randolf, who owned a small, but powerful car, had invited Walter to go with him, Norton being included in the invitation to go “bungaloafing by the sea,” as Jack characterized it. He was really good company after one had become used to some of his mannerisms. The Robinson twins, of course, would use their own car. The girls, including Cora, were no longer amateur motorists, but could drive their machines with a skill equal to that of the boys.

Norton arrived soon after Walter and Ed, coming up in his car, which was kept in a public garage.

“Where is your cousin going to ride, Cora?” asked Belle, as they hurried the final preparations. “I don’t see how you can get her in your machine, with those trunks and things in the tonneau.”

“That’s so!” exclaimed Cora, with a tragic gesture. “I knew I had forgotten something. I had down on my notes ‘Cousin Mary–where?’ and I took it to mean where would I put her to sleep. I see now it was where should I put her to ride.”

“Let her come with us!” exclaimed Bess. “You can take one of our suit cases in your car, and that will leave plenty of room for your cousin.”

“I guess that’s all we can do now,” said Cora. “Oh, dear, I thought I had fixed everything!”

“Don’t fuss, my dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Fordam. “It will be all right. Your car is so big that I’m really afraid of it.”

So it was arranged, and when a few other forgotten matters had been settled, Cora gave the last instructions to the care-taker of the Kimball home, and blew a blast on her auto horn as a signal to start.

“At last we are off!” sighed Eline, as she sat beside Cora. “It seems as if time moves slowest of all at the end.”

“It really does,” agreed Cora. “I’m glad we are able to start. When I saw that blaze in the garage–Oh, my dear, you’ve no idea how my heart sank. It almost stopped beating.”

“I can imagine so. What a pretty suit you have,” and she glanced admiringly at Cora’s smart motoring costume. It was a light biscuit shade, of a material that would stand wear, and not show the stains of travel.

“Your own is fully as pretty–perhaps a little too nice,” returned Cora. Eline had made rather elaborate preparations for her Eastern trip, as regarded dress. But she was within good taste, for she ran much to harmonizing shades–perhaps too much so.

“Are we going at this snail’s pace all day?” cried Jack to his sister. “Can’t you move faster?”

“We want the good people of Chelton to have a chance to admire us,” called Belle.

“Shall we pass her?” asked Norton of Walter. “My car can easily get ahead of the Whirlwind.”

“Don’t do it,” Walter advised. “I don’t believe Cora would like it. And really, she arranged this affair, so she ought to make the pace.”

“All right,” assented the new lad, and he had the good sense to see the wisdom of the advice.

They passed the Robinson home, the twins waving and being waved at, and then the four autos turned out on the main road that led into a glorious country–a country doubly glorious this morning because of the rain of the night before.

They were really on the road at last, and as Cora glanced down it, her gloved hands firm on the steering wheel, she could not help wondering if it was this road that the strange and perhaps misunderstood woman had taken when she fled so silently from the Kimball house. Also Cora wondered if she would ever meet her again. The chances were against it and yet―

“Really so many strange things have happened to us on some of our auto trips,” she explained to Eline as they talked it over, “that I would not be surprised if we did see her again–and perhaps―”

“Even that Nancy Ford!” supplied Eline.

“Oh, that would be too much to expect, my dear!” said Cora, with a laugh. “We turn here!” she added, “just hold out your hand, Eline.”

“Hold out my hand?” Eline asked, wonderingly, as she stretched it straight out in front of her. “What for?”

“No, I mean out at the side of the car,” explained Cora. “It is a sign to whoever is coming behind that you are going to turn. It prevents accidents.”

“Oh, I see,” and this time the Chicago girl did it properly.

CHAPTER V
A FLOCK OF SHEEP

“What a delightful road!”

“Isn’t it splendid!”

“Too perfect!”

It was Cora who made the first remark, Eline who answered and the Robinson twins who chorused the third. The highway was so wide, and there was so little traffic thus early in the morning, that the two cars could run side by side. On high gear with the gas throttled down they made scarcely any noise, so that conversation was possible.

“I don’t know what I have done to enjoy such pleasure,” said Mrs. Fordam.

“Are you really enjoying it, Cousin Mary?” inquired Cora.

“Indeed I am, my dear! I wouldn’t have missed it for a good deal. I never knew before how delightful it was to be chaperone to such nice girls.”

“I’m sorry I can’t stop steering long enough to pass you a chocolate candy!” exclaimed Bess. “Belle, you will have to do it for me. Such compliments!”

“No, I really mean it,” declared Mrs. Fordam, earnestly.

“Wait until the boys begin to cut up,” warned Cora.

“Oh, I know Jack of old,” returned the chaperone. “He can’t do anything very bad.”

“They seem to be hatching up some sort of a plot back there,” remarked Eline, as she looked to the rear where Jack’s gaudy red and yellow car was careening alongside the Beetle–that owned by Norton. It had been so christened because of its low, rakish appearance, and the fact that it was painted a dead black. It was not a pretty car, but it had speed, as Norton often boasted.

“Oh, I’ve no doubt they will do something,” conceded Belle. “But we can do things too!”

They ran on for some distance, this stretch of the road being particularly fine. They were under a perfect arch of maple trees, which, being planted on either side of the road, mingled their branches over the centre, affording a delightful shade. It was needed, too, in a measure, for the sun, creeping higher and higher in the blue sky, was sending down beams of heat, as well as light. There was gentle wind, which was accentuated by the motion of the machines.

“Is it hard to learn to drive a car?” asked Eline, as Bess and Belle combined in telling Mrs. Fordam something of the excitement of the previous night, she not having arrived until it was over.

“It is, my dear, at first,” Cora explained. “Then it all seems to come to you at once. Why you’d never believe it, but first I used to imagine I was going to hit everything on the road. I gave objects such a wide berth that everyone laughed at me. But I did not want to take chances. Now watch!”

She speeded up a little, and turning to one side seemed to be headed straight for a tree.

“Oh!” screamed Eline, and Bess and Belle echoed the cry.

“There!” cried Cora, as she skillfully passed it, far enough off for safety, as even the most careful motorist would admit, but near enough to make an amateur nervous. “You see what it is to have confidence,” she added to Eline.

“Yes,” was the somewhat doubtful comment.

“Cora, dear, I wouldn’t take those risks if I were you,” rebuked her Cousin Mary, gently.

“Oh, it wasn’t a risk at all! I had perfect control. I just wanted to show Eline what practice will do. I am going to teach her to drive.”

“I’ll never learn!” was the nervous protest.

The road narrowed about a mile farther on, but before the cars lengthened out into single file again, Belle asked:

“Where are we to lunch, Cora?”

“I planned on stopping at Mooreville. There is a nice, home-like restaurant there. We’ll be in Churchton soon, and we can stop there and ’phone in to have a meal ready for a party of nine.”

“That would be a good idea.”

Churchton was soon reached, and Jack found he had a puncture. While he stopped to put a new inner tube into service Cora got the restaurant on the wire and made arrangements.

“Now will you please be good?” Jack begged of his car, when the tire had been pumped up again. “This is a bad beginning for you, old Get There.”

“If it makes good you can tack on another title when we’re in Chelton again,” suggested Ed.

“What?”

“Call it Get There and Back.”

“I believe I will!” laughed Jack. “Sorry to delay you,” he said to the others, for they waited for him after Cora had finished telephoning.

“It’s all right,” spoke Walter, good-naturedly. “We have plenty of time.”

Once more they were under way. The road was now not so good, and in places positively bad. But they knew they would soon be on better ground, and on a fine highway leading into Mooreville.

Later they were on a narrow thoroughfare, so narrow, and with such deep ditches on either side, that it would take no small skill to pass another vehicle in certain places. Then, as Cora made a turn, the road ahead being hidden by a thick growth of trees, she saw straggling along the highway a big flock of sheep, tended by a man and two beautiful collie dogs. The fleecy animals straggled and spread out over the whole road.

“Oh dear!” Cora cried, as she slowed down. “Isn’t this provoking! We can’t get past them.”

“Why not?” asked Eline.

“Because they are so–so straggly. They take up the whole road, and if I tried to pass I’d be sure to run over one of them. Oh! what a shame!

“We’ve got to take it slowly!” she called back to the twins, who were just behind her. “I can’t take a chance of threading my way through all these animals.”

“This is tough luck!” complained Jack, as he saw what the trouble was.

The herder looked up stolidly, puffing on a short pipe, and called to one of the dogs, who leaped off to drive back into the flock a sheep that showed a propensity to lag behind.

“Can’t you try to pass them?” asked Eline. “I’m sure you could do it.”

“I’d rather not,” answered Cora.

“Don’t you dare!” cautioned Bess, who heard what was said.

“But we’ll be late for lunch–and it has been ordered,” wailed Belle. “And I’m so hungry!”

Cora resolved on an appeal.

“Do you think you could drive your sheep to one side, and keep them there until we passed?” she asked the man. “It will take us only a minute to shoot by.”

“It would be a risky undertaking miss,” the herder answered respectfully enough. “Sheep is queer critters. You think you’ve got ’em just where you want ’em, when, all to once they break out, and if one goes the others follow.”

“Yes, I know!” Cora was genuinely distressed. “But we simply must get past!” she exclaimed. “Can’t you think of a way?” She looked ahead at the sheep. There were a hundred or more–quite a flock. The herder took off his cap and scratched his head reflectively–looking the while meditatively at his pipe.

“It might be done–it might,” he murmured.

Cora brought her car to a stop.

“Oh!” cried Bess and Belle together, and Bess, who was driving, jammed on the foot and emergency brake quicker than she ever had in her life before. As it was her fender struck the rear tires of Cora’s car.

“Oh dear!” wailed Eline, clutching at Cora, while Belle, recovering from her momentary fright, had the presence of mind to raise her arm in the air as a signal for the boys to come to a halt.

“Cora Kimball!” cried Bess. “What did you stop so suddenly for, and not signal us? We might have broken your car!”

“I’m sorry. But I just thought of something, so didn’t think of signalling. Any damage done?”

“No, but there might have been.”

“All right then. Will you please come here?” she called to the man. “I want to speak to you–that is, if the sheep will be all right.”

“Yes, miss, the dogs will look after ’em,” and, calling a command to the intelligent collies, he advanced toward Cora’s car.

CHAPTER VI
JACK IS LOST

“How many sheep have you?” asked Cora.

“Well, there’s just a hundred and ten, miss. I had a hundred and ’leven, but one died on me,” the man explained.

“What is this–a class in arithmetic?” inquired Jack, who had left his car and come up to where his sister sat in hers.

“Now, Jack–please―” she said.

“And how much farther does this road go before―”

“The road doesn’t go–it stays right here!” chuckled her brother.

“Stop it!” she commanded in such a tone that he knew she meant it.

“How far before there is a cross-road into which you could turn your sheep?” went on Cora, fixing the man with what Jack said afterward was “a cold and fishy glance.”

“A matter of four mile, miss.”

“I thought so. Then we’d have to tag along behind you all that distance, losing time, and―”

“To say nothing of swallowing all that dust!” exclaimed Belle, pointing to a cloud of it that hung over the flock of sheep, which the dogs were skillfully herding. “Oh, it’s awful!”

“That’s why I’ve thought of a way out,” spoke Cora.

“Then out with it, Sis!” exclaimed the irrepressible Jack. Once more his sister turned her attention to him–this time it was only a look, but it sufficed.

“Do you see that field over there?” asked Cora of the sheep man, pointing to one rich and luxuriant in deep, green grass.

“Yes, miss, I see it,” and he pointed with the stem of his pipe to be sure he made no mistake.

“Yes. Well, now, could you take your sheep in there, and keep them–er–quiet–until we passed in our autos. You see it is impossible for us to get by on the road, for even if you did get the animals to one side one might leap out, under the wheels of a car and there would be an accident.”

“I see, miss. The sheep might be killed.”

“Yes, and we’d be wrecked,” growled Jack. “What’s the game, Sis? If we stay here much longer that dinner will be eaten by some one else.”

“Be quiet Jack–please! Now could you not drive your sheep into the field?” she asked. “Then we could get past. Of course we might turn around and go back to some other road, but it would delay us. Could you?”

Certainly no mere man could withstand the appealing glance thrown at this humble sheep herder. He capitulated.

“I guess I could do it, miss. But what if the man who owns this field was to see me? You see I’m a stranger in these parts–I’m only hired to drive these sheep to the man that bought them.”

“I see. Well, if we gave you a dollar or so, you could give it to the man who owns that pasture in case he made objection. It would be worth two dollars to get past.”

“More,” Jack framed with his lips, but he did not speak aloud, being a careful and frugal youth.

“The sheep could not eat much grass in the short time you drove them into the field, kept them there until we got past, and then let ’em out again; could they?” she asked, with a winning smile.

“No, miss, I guess I can do it. Sheep is queer. They is easily frightened, and maybe it would be the best way. Why, only last night, when I had turned ’em into a pasture they near ran off on me.”

“Why?” asked Jack, rather idly.

“Well, you see it was this way. I had ’em all settled for the night, a matter of several miles back, when a woman came running along the road. She was takin’ on somethin’ bad, cryin’ like, and mutterin’ ‘Kin I ever find her? Kin I ever find her?’ You see―”

“Was that what she said?” cried Cora excitedly.

“She did, miss!”

“What sort of a woman was she?” With her eyes Cora signalled to Jack to remain quiet. She knew the girls would.

“Well, I couldn’t rightly say, miss, as it was so dark right after the storm. But before I knew what she was doin’ she had come into the pasture that I hired for the sheep over night, and run toward a hay stack. She stumbled over a lamb, fell down, the dogs barked, and it took all I could do to quiet them sheep.”

“What became of the woman?” asked Cora, making a motion with her lips to signify that she thought her the same mysterious one who had been in her barn.

“Well, she was real sorry for having made me so much trouble, and it was trouble. She said she didn’t see the sheep in the field, and she was as scar’t as they was, I reckon. I asked her what she was doin’ out and she said looking for a girl.”

“A girl?” asked Jack, sharply.

“Yes. I ast her if it was her girl–thinkin’ she might be a farmer’s wife from around there, but she didn’t say any more. Only she kept sort of moanin’ like, an’ sayin’ as how her life was spoilt, an’ how if she could only find a girl–well, I couldn’t make much head or tail of it, an’ anyhow I was worried about the sheep, for one got torn on a barbed wire fence. But I was sorry for the woman. I ast her if she intended to spend the night out-doors, and she said yes.

“I couldn’t hardly stand for that–for by her voice I could tell she wasn’t a common kind. So I ast her if she had any money. I was goin’ to give her some myself, so she could get a night’s lodging anyhow. She put her hand in her pocket–sort of absent-minded like, and then she got a surprise, I guess, for she pulled out a silver purse, that she didn’t seem to expect to find there. I could see it plain for I was lightin’ my pipe just then to quiet my nerves.”

“A silver purse?” cried Cora.

“Ahem!” coughed Belle, meaningly, and Cora, looking at her, understood there was something to be told–later.

“Yes, a silver purse,” went on the man. “She didn’t appear to know she had it, and when she opened it and saw some bills and silver, she was more struck than ever. She said something about not knowing it was there, and then she cried out: ‘Oh, it must have been them dear girls! God bless ’em!’ That’s the words she used, miss. I remember ’em well.”

The others had left their cars now, and come up to hear the recital. The boys looked meaningly at one another, and the girls exchanged glances.

“What happened next?” asked Cora.

“Why, nothin’ much, miss. You see the woman had money though she didn’t know it, which I took to be queer. But it wa’n’t none of my affair. She gave me good-night and went back to the road, walkin’ off in the direction of the town. I guess she got lodging all right–she could go to a hotel with that money. It was more than I carry. But the sheep was all right by then, quieted down, so I left ’em to my dogs and crawled under the hay. I slept good, too.

“But now, miss, I want to oblige you an’ your friends, so I’ll just drive my animals into that field. I don’t believe the owner will care.”

“Well, take this in case he does,” said Cora, passing over a two-dollar bill. “Get ready now, people!” she cried gaily. “We’re going to move!”

With the aid of the beautiful collies, who seemed to be able to do everything but talk, the herder drove his sheep through the lowered bars of the pasture.

Then, with the bars up again, so they could not come out, the man waved for the auto to proceed, swinging his cap at the boys and girls in token of good will. Cora’s Whirlwind speeded up, followed by the others, and soon they were on the broad, level highway that led to Mooreville.

“Cora, I simply must speak or I’ll―” began Bess.

“Don’t burst!” cautioned Jack, running his car up alongside his sister’s. The road was wide enough for three for a short distance.

“Wasn’t that the same woman who was at your house?” went on Bess.

“I’m sure of it,” assented Cora. “Only I didn’t want to speak of it before him, Poor creature! What a plight to be in! No place to stay!”

“But that silver purse!” cried Bess. “And the money―” She stopped suddenly and looked at her sister. “Belle Robinson, you never gave that to her!” she cried.

“Yes I did,” admitted Belle. “I slipped it into the pocket of her cloak. I could see she needed it.”

“‘Bread upon the waters,’” quoted Cora. “I was wondering where she got it when the man mentioned it. To think of hearing about her again. Girls, I’m sure she must be, in some way, tragically mixed up in our lives. We are destined to meet her again, I’m sure.”

“Well, I can’t afford another silver purse,” said Belle, smiling. “It will have to be plain leather next time.”

“We’ll all chip in,” declared Jack.

“Well, we must make time now,” asserted Cora.

They found a rather anxious restaurant keeper looking down the road up which they came, but he became all smiles when he saw the merry party, and soon they were sitting down to a plain, but well-cooked and substantial meal. And they all had appetites, too!

“We will spend the night at the Mansion House, in Fairport,” spoke Cora, consulting a list after dinner. “I will telephone for rooms.”

“Perhaps you had better let me,” suggested Cousin Mary, and she made the arrangements over the wire.

Once more they were under way again, and all went well until Jack shouted that his tire had gone flat and would have to be pumped up.

“Go ahead–don’t wait for us!” he called to his sister. “We can speed up and catch you.”

“Don’t take the wrong road,” Cora cautioned, and then Jack and Ed got out the repair kit. The work took them longer than they had expected, and it was getting dusk when they were ready to proceed.

“We’ll never make it before dark, old man,” said Ed.

“Oh, I guess we will. I’m going to fracture some speed limits,” and Jack opened wide the throttle. The Get There did make good time, but it was not worthy of its name. For, after going for some time, Jack felt that he must be nearing Fairport. He got out to look at a sign post, lighting a match to distinguish the directions. Then he uttered an expression of dismay.

“What is it?” asked Ed, anxiously. “Something else gone wrong, Jack?”

“Yes–we’ve gone wrong!”

“How so?”

“Why, we’re on the Belleville turnpike, and to my certain knowledge we’re about fifteen miles off the right road for Fairport. I thought that fellow we asked, about sunset, didn’t seem very sure of his directions. He told us wrong–maybe not on purpose–but wrong just the same. Ed, old man, we are lost in a dismal country with night coming on. Please groan and shiver for me, while I think of the proper thing to say. We’re lost!”

“Well, the only thing to do is to go back,” remarked Ed, philosophically. “Come on. Luckily the roads are good.”

“Hark! Some one is coming!” exclaimed Jack, as he heard footfalls on the hard highway. “I’ll ask him. Maybe there’s a short cut to Fairport.”

The figure advanced out of the darkness into the glare of the lights on Jack’s car. Then he exclaimed involuntarily:

“It’s a girl!”

CHAPTER VII
WORRIES

“Where shall we leave our cars?” asked Belle.

“There’s a garage just around the corner from the hotel,” answered Cora. “We can have the man look the machines over, too, and see that there is plenty of gasoline and oil. Then we won’t have to worry.”

The three cars had drawn up in front of the Mansion House at Fairport, following a pleasant run after the sheep episode. Jack and Ed, of course, were not present, and of them more presently. They were having, as Jack might express it, “their own troubles.”

“Oh, but I’m warm and dusty!” exclaimed Eline as she “flopped” from the car to the sidewalk. Flopped is the only word that properly expresses it.

“Then you’re not much used to motoring,” remarked Cora with a smile, as she disengaged herself from the steering wheel. “It is tiring, at first, but one soon becomes used to it. How did you like it, Cousin Mary?”

“It was delightful, my dear, purely delightful; but I will own that I shall be glad to walk again.” She alighted from the car of the twins. The two sisters got down, and Belle went around to look at one of the rear tires. She had a suspicion, amounting to a conviction, that it had gone flat. It had.

“I’ll let the garage man attend to it,” she said. “I’m too anxious now to get some nice warm water, soap and a large towel.”

“Me for a large, juicy towel!” exclaimed Walter, coming up with Norton. “Will you have yours boiled or stewed?”

“Silly! I don’t call that a joke!”

“You don’t need to; it comes without calling.”

“That’s worse,” declared Bess, trying to get some of the road dust off her face with a very small handkerchief.

“Well, we’re here, anyhow!” put in Norton, “I don’t think much of the hotel, though.”

“It will do very nicely,” answered Cora somewhat coldly. She was not quite sure whether she was going to like Norton or not. He did not seem to improve upon acquaintance, and she was a little sorry that Jack had asked him on the trip. Still, she reflected, one can easily be mistaken about boys. Perhaps his flippant manner might be due to nervousness, or a diffidence in not knowing how to say the right thing at the right time.

“We’re here–because we’re here!” exclaimed Walter. “That’s more than can be said for Jack and Ed.”

“Are they in sight?” asked Cora, looking down the long straight road–the main street of Fairport–by which they had entered the town.

“Not yet,” answered Bess. “Oh, do let’s get into the hotel!” she exclaimed. “A crowd is collecting, and I do so want a drink of cold water.”

“Hot tea for me,” spoke Belle. “Hot tea with a slice of lemon in it.”

“Since Belle went to that Russian tea-fest last winter she always takes lemon in her tea,” explained her sister. “Ugh! I can’t bear it!” Bess was nothing if not certain in her likes and dislikes.

“It’s really the only way to drink tea, my dear,” said Belle, with an affected society drawl. “It’s so–so mussy with cream and sugar in it,” and she spread out her hands in æsthetic horror–or something to simulate that.

“I think I shall be satisfied with just plain tea,” voiced Cora, as she took another look down the road for her brother. “Come on, girls–and boys!” she added.

A little throng was beginning to gather in front of the hotel, somewhat blocking the sidewalk, for the sight of the cars drawn up in front of the hostel and perhaps the sight of the four–well, it might as well be said–pretty motor girls, had attracted attention.

“Shoo–shoo–chickens!” exclaimed Mrs. Fordam with a laugh as she brought up back of the girls. “Let’s get in and freshen up for supper.”

“Dinner!” cried Walter. “It’s not allowed to say supper on this tour. Dinner; isn’t it, Cora?”

“As you like,” she assented a bit wearily, for now, after the excitement of the day, the work and worry, much of which had necessarily fallen to her, Cora was beginning to feel the reaction. The fire, too, and the strange woman, all had added to it. But she knew they could have a good rest that evening.

“Jack must be having trouble with that tire,” she went on, as they entered the hotel. “I think he had better put on an entirely new one.”

“Oh, he’ll be here pretty soon,” said Walter. “Really we haven’t been here long, and we ought to allow him half an hour anyway. The Get There will go―”

“Once it does go,” interrupted Norton. “I wonder where we register?”

“There’s the desk,” said Walter, pointing to where the hotel clerk stood behind the counter waiting for the party. He smiled a welcome.

“I’ll register for the girls,” said Mrs. Fordam. “I want to see how the rooms are arranged before we commit ourselves to them.”

The suite was satisfactory and soon the girls had gone to their apartments, their suit cases having been brought up by the bell boys. Walter and Norton, after putting their names down on the register, took the three cars to the garage around the corner, leaving them there for the night.

“Unless we want to take a little spin this evening,” suggested Norton, as they were on their way back to the hotel.

“I guess the girls will be too tired,” returned Walter. “We might take in a show, however. That would be restful.”

“Not any moving pictures!” exclaimed Norton, hastily. “I’m dead sick of them.”

“So am I. There are a couple of good theatres in town, I think. However, we’ll leave it to the girls.”

“Did you see anything of Jack?” asked Cora, anxiously, as the two young men came in. There was a worried look in her eyes.

“No, he hasn’t come yet,” answered Walter. “But it’s early yet. Dinner won’t be served for an hour, the clerk told me. Say, you girls look all right!” and there was genuine admiration in his eyes.

“Why shouldn’t we?” asked Eline. She had put on a fawn-colored dress that set off her complexion wonderfully well. Cora had put on her new brown, while Belle in blue and Bess in mauve added to the charm. The girls had freshened their complexion with cold cream and a thorough rinsing, and all traces of the rather dusty trip had been removed.

“It’s up to us for our glad rags,” said Norton. “Come on, Walter. There’s no use letting them carry off all the honors,” and he started for the elevator.

“I wish you’d give just a look, and see if Jack isn’t coming,” went on Cora. “I’m really a little worried. He may have had an accident.”

“Now don’t you go to worrying,” counseled Walter, in his best brotherly manner. “Jack and Ed can take care of themselves, all right.”

“No, don’t worry,” went on Mrs. Fordam. “It will spoil your pleasure, Cora.”

“But I just can’t help it. Come on, girls, we’ll get our wraps and go outside. I simply can’t sit still.”

“No, we had plenty of sitting all day,” admitted Bess. “I believe it would be nice to walk up and down out in front for a change. It’s rather stuffy in here,” and she glanced about a typical hotel parlor.

“All right, go ahead and we’ll be with you in a little while,” directed Walter, he and Norton going to their rooms while the girls and Mrs. Fordam went outside.

All the injunctions of her companions not to worry did not drive anxiety from Cora. Time and again she glanced down the road her brother must come, but the Get There was not living up to its name.

Dusk came, but no Jack. The promise of good appetites for the dinner was not carried out, for Cora’s worry affected all of them more or less. And it began to look as if something really had happened.

“I simply must do something!” Cora exclaimed after dinner. “I’m going to see if I can’t telephone to some one along the road, and ask if there has been an accident.”

They tried to persuade her not to, but she insisted and started toward the booth.

CHAPTER VIII
THE GIRL

Jack and Ed, standing near the machine, under the sign post, peered at the advancing figure of the girl. She had stopped short–stopped rather timidly, it seemed, and she now stood there silent, apparently waiting for the boys to say something.

“It’s a girl, sure enough,” said Ed, in a low voice. “Out alone, too.”

Jack, who never hesitated long at doing anything, resolved to at once plunge into the midst of this new problem.

“Excuse me,” he said, taking off his cap, and he knew she could see him, for they were all in the glare of the auto’s lamps now, “excuse me, but can you tell us if there is any shorter way to get to Fairport than by going back? We are lost, it seems.”

“So–so am I!” faltered the girl.

“What?” exclaimed Ed.

“That is–well, I’m not exactly lost,” and Jack could see her smile faintly. Yet behind the smile there seemed to be sorrow, and it was evident, even in the difficult light of the gas lamps, that she had been crying.

“You’re lost–but not exactly lost,” remarked Ed, with a laugh. “That’s–er–rather odd; isn’t it?” He was anxious to put the girl at her ease. Clearly a strange young girl–and pretty, too, as the boys could see–would need to be put at her ease when alone, after dark, on a country road.

“I–I guess it is,” she admitted, and Jack made a mental note that he liked her voice. Quite discriminating in regard to voices Jack was getting–at least in his own estimation.

“Then you can’t help us much, I’m afraid,” went on Ed. “If you’re a stranger around here―”

“Oh, yes, I’m a stranger–quite a stranger. I don’t know a soul!”

She said it so quickly–bringing out the words so promptly after Ed’s suggestion, that it almost seemed as though she had caught at a straw thrown in her way by a chance wind. Why did she want to make it appear that she was a stranger? And that she did want to give that impression–rightly or wrongly–was very evident to both young men.

“Then we are both–I mean all three–lost,” spoke Jack, good-naturedly. “I guess there’s no help for it, Ed. We’ll have to go back the way we came until we strike the road to Fairport.”

“I suppose so. But it will bring us in pretty late.”

“No help for it. What is to be–has to be. Cora will worry–she has that habit lately.”

“Naturally. Well, maybe we can get to a telephone somewhere, and let them know.”

“You could do that!” exclaimed the girl, impulsively. “I know what it is to worry. I saw a telephone not more than a mile back. I mean,” she explained with a smile, “I saw a place where there was a telephone pay station sign. It was in a little country store, where I stopped to–to―”

She hesitated and her voice faltered.

“Look here!” exclaimed Jack. “Perhaps we can help you! Are you going anywhere that we can give you a lift? We’re bound to be late anyhow, and a little more time won’t matter. You see my sister and some friends–other girls and boys–are out on a trip. We are going to Sandy Point Cove, and are taking it easy on the way. My machine developed tire trouble a while ago–quite a while it is now,” he said ruefully, “and the others went on. I thought I could get up to them, but I took the wrong road and–well, here we are. Now if we can give you a ride, why, we’ll be glad to. Ed can sit on the run-board, and you―”

“Oh, I couldn’t trouble you!” the girl exclaimed. “I–I am going―”

She stopped rather abruptly and Jack and Ed each confessed to the other, later, that they were mortally afraid she was going to cry.

“And if she had,” said Jack, “I’d have been up in the air for fair!”

“Same here!” admitted Ed.

But she did not cry. She conquered the inclination, and went on.

“I mean that I don’t know exactly where I am going,” the girl said. “It isn’t important, anyhow. It doesn’t much matter where I stop.” There was a pathetic, hopeless note in her voice now.

Again Jack took a sudden resolve.

“Look here!” he exclaimed, “I’ve got a sister, and Ed here, and I, have a lot of girl friends. We wouldn’t want them to be out alone at night on a country road. So if you’ll excuse us, I think it would be better if we could take you to some of your friends. We won’t mind in the least, going out of our way to do it, either.”

“Of course not!” put in Ed.

“But I–I―” she seemed struggling with some emotion. “I love to be in the country!” she said suddenly–as though she had made up her mind to rush through some explanation of her plight “I take long walks often. I think I walked too far to-day. I–I expected to reach Hayden before dark, but I stayed too long in a pretty little wood. I–am going to stop at the Young Women’s Christian Association in Hayden. But that’s only a mile further, and I can be there before it’s very much darker.”

“If it can get any darker than this, I’d like to see it,” remarked Ed, staring at the blackness which surrounded them.

“If it’s only a mile or so farther then we’re going to take you there!” exclaimed Jack. “We’re bound to be late anyhow, and we might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb. Ed, it’s you for the run-board.”

“With pleasure,” and he bowed to the girl.

She laughed–just the least bit.

“Oh, but I couldn’t think of troubling you!” the girl exclaimed. “Really, I–I―” She did not know what to say. Jack saw her clasp her hands convulsively. He had a good look at her face. Really she was quite pretty, he decided, an opinion in which Ed coincided.

“Look here!” cried Jack, purposely rough. He had found that tone advisable to take with Cora sometimes. “Look here, we are going on to Hayden anyhow, so you might as well ride with us as walk. I know my sister, Cora Kimball–perhaps you know her―?”

“I don’t believe I do,” she answered.

“Well, no matter–anyhow, she’d never forgive me–nor Ed either, if we left you like this. And I know Ed would fuss more about Cora not forgiving him than I would. So you’ve just got to ride,” and he smiled frankly.

“But I thought you said you were going to Fairport,” spoke the girl.

“We are,” answered Jack. “But I’m not going to chase back all those fifteen miles we came by mistake. It would take too long, especially after dark. So if we can’t take a short cut over from Hayden, we’ll stay there all night, and go on in the morning. I can telephone my sister. I suppose there are ’phones in Hayden.”

“Oh, yes, it–it’s quite a town–a small city, I believe,” said the girl. “I inquired about it at the last stop I made, and they told me of the association where I could stay.”

“Then come on!” invited Jack. “I’ll crank up, and you can ride with us.”

“You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

“Not a bit–it will be a pleasure to have you. But perhaps we ought to look for a nearer telephone, and send word to your friends,” Jack suggested.

“No–no,” she spoke rapidly. “I haven’t any–I mean they won’t worry about me. I am used to looking after myself.”

Truly she seemed so, and now she appeared even more self-reliant as she stood there in the glare of the lamps of the auto. Her face had lost some of the traces of hopeless despair, and she had somehow managed to get rid of the evidences of the tears. The boys wondered how she did it, for it was rather like a magician’s trick, “done in full view of the audience.” Jack and Ed paid a mental tribute to her accomplishment in using a handkerchief.

“Are you sure you are comfortable there?” the girl asked Ed, as he crouched partly on the floor of the car, with his feet on the run-board.

“Quite,” he affirmed, not altogether truthfully, but at least gallantly.

“It seems so selfish of me, that really―”

“Say, Ed’s all right!” cried Jack, gaily. “He’d rather ride on the run-board than anywhere else; wouldn’t you, old man?”

“Sure!”

“In fact, he often sits there when there’s a vacant seat. It’s a hobby of his. I’ve tried to break him of it, but he is hopeless!”

“Now I know you’re poking fun at me!” she exclaimed, and she laughed lightly. “I’ve almost a notion―”

She made a motion as though to alight.

“Don’t you dare!” cried Jack. “Here we go!” He let in the gear, and the clutch came into place. The car moved forward slowly, and gathered speed.

“We’ll be there in no time,” Jack went on. “It’s rather unpleasant for you, isn’t it, going about by yourself?” he asked the girl.

“Oh, I’m used to it. I have been working in an office, but I–I decided on a vacation. I took it rather suddenly, and I haven’t made any plans since. I decided to go off–and, yes, lose myself for a time. That’s why I’m in a part of the country I have never visited before.”

“I see,” remarked Jack. “It is sometimes good to do things on an impulse. I know how tiresome the dull routine and grind must be.”

“He never worked a day in his life!” exclaimed Ed.

“No knocking, old man!” laughed Jack. “I think I’d like to be in an office myself,” he added. Mentally he decided that one where this girl was employed might not be a half-bad place.

“Yes, he’d want an office where the hours were from ten to twelve, with an hour for lunch,” grunted Ed, as the car went over a bump, jolting him.

“I really liked the work,” said the girl. “Of course there were some unpleasant features–in fact, that is why I left so suddenly. Now I am–free!”

She took a long breath of the night air rushing against her cheeks, as though the idea of being free was most delightful.

They talked of various subjects as the car shot along in the darkness. Both Jack and Ed were quite curious to learn more about this stray girl, but they had the good sense not to ask leading questions. Nor did she volunteer much information.

Finally the lights of Hayden glimmered into view, and soon the car had stopped in front of the Y. W. C. A., which Jack had located through a policeman.

“Now I shall be all right,” the girl exclaimed as Jack helped her out. “Thank you a thousand times. I really–I don’t know what I should have done had I not met you. I–I was just beginning to–get afraid.”

“Are you sure you will be all right now?” asked Ed.

“Can’t we do anything more for you?” Jack wanted to know. “I’m Jack Kimball, of Chelton, and this is Ed Foster. We are pretty well known in these parts, though we’ve never been in Hayden before. We auto around a good bit. If we can do anything―”

“Oh, no, thank you ever so much. I shall be all right.” She gave Jack her hand, in a warm clasp, and then turned to Ed. “Thank you–so much!” She smiled, showing her white, even teeth, and ran up the steps of the building–a place where a lone girl could always find a safe shelter. She turned on the top step, waved a good-bye to them, and disappeared behind the doors.

CHAPTER IX
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

“What do you know about that?”

“It’s rather queer–all the way along.”

Jack asked and Ed answered. They stood by the machine and looked up at the building into which the girl had gone.

“Well, I guess there’s nothing for us to do but to see if there isn’t some way to get to Fairport from here,” remarked Jack, after a pause.

“That’s it–and telephone. There’s a drug-store across the street. It has a ’phone sign.”

“Come on, then.”

Presently they had been connected with the Mansion House, and Cora was at the other end of the wire.

“Oh, Jack, what happened?”

“We got lost–on the wrong road–that’s all.”

“Oh, Jack, I’ve been so worried!”

“Pshaw! What was the use? Didn’t I ever get lost before?”

“Yes, I know―”

“You’re too fussy, Sis. How’s everybody?”

“All right–but―”

“But them as is wrong; eh? Well, we’ll soon be with you. We had quite an adventure.”

“You did? Were you hurt?”

“No, can’t a fellow have an adventure without getting hurt? We met a pretty girl, and gave her a ride–that’s all.”

“Jack! You never did!”

“Oh, yes, we did. Ed’s here, and he’ll tell you all about it. It was a great time.”

“Jack Kimball, I believe you’re just teasing me! You’re not in Hayden at all!”

“Where am I, then?” he challenged.

“Right in town, and just as like as not you’re calling up from across the street here.”

“Well, I’m not then. You ask central. We really were lost on the road, and had quite a time. I don’t know now whether we can be with you to-night or not.”

“Oh, Jack, you must!”

“But if we can’t–we can’t. If we can find a short cut we’ll take it. Otherwise we’ll stay here all night and come on early in the morning.”

“Well, that will have to do then,” said Cora, with a sigh. “Oh, but we have been so worried. Who was that girl, Jack?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“Does Ed?”

“Not guilty.”

“The idea! And you gave her a ride?”

“Why not? We met her on the road–she was all alone–it was dark. What else could we do?”

“That’s so, I suppose. Where is she now?”

“In the Y. W. C. A.”

“Oh, that’s all right then. Listen, you will try to come on to-night; won’t you?”

“Sure, Sis.”

“I’m so tired, and it’s more of a responsibility than I thought it would be.”

“Well, don’t worry, Sis. We’re going to get something to eat, and then we’ll see what we can do.”

“Eat! You don’t mean to say, Jack Kimball, that you’re going to stop to eat?”

“Well, I guess we are. Haven’t had a bite since noon.”

“Why can’t you get dinner after you get here?”

“It might be more like breakfast than dinner if we waited,” and Jack laughed. “No, we’re going to eat here and then we’ll see what we can do. Don’t worry any more. The Get There will go somewhere, anyhow. Now take it easy.”

“All right. I will, only do try to come.”

“Want to talk to Ed?”

“What for?”

“Oh, only to say ‘how de do,’” and again Jack laughed.

“Certainly I’ll speak to him.”

Ed on the wire.

“Hello, Cora. It’s all right. I listened to what Jack said.”

“And it’s all–I mean did you really help a girl?”

“Sure.”

“Who was she?”

“That’s telling. I’ve got her name, only Jack doesn’t know.”

“Don’t you believe him,” interjected Jack sideways into the transmitter.

“Try and make him come on to-night!” said Cora. “Your rooms are all engaged.”

“I will. Are the girls all right?”

“Yes.”

“And your cousin?”

“Surely.”

“Walter making himself useful as he always does, I suppose?”

“Of course. Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not. I’m only trying to think of something else to say.”

“You needn’t try then!” and Cora’s voice had a tint of snap in it.

“Don’t get mad,” Ed advised her. “Give my love to the girls, and tell ’em we’ll be with ’em soon. Do you want to talk to Jack again?”

“No, only tell him to please come to-night. I want to talk to him.”

“About that girl, I expect.”

“I don’t believe a word about her.”

“Ha! I’ll show you a lock of her hair.”

“Then I’d surely know you were fooling. Say, listen, you will make Jack come; won’t you, Ed?”

“Surest thing you know. Shall I say good-bye?”

“If you can’t think of anything else to say.”

“All right. See you soon.”

“You’ll have a sweet telephone toll to pay.”

“I’m going to make Jack do it. He’s asking the clerk here how to get to Fairport the quickest way. The clerk’s another girl.”

“Oh, I’m not going to talk another word. Good-bye,” and a click in his ear told Ed that Cora had hung up the receiver. He laughed and joined Jack, who had gone away from the booth.

CHAPTER X
REUNITED

“Who was she?”

It was Cora who demanded this when, an hour or so later, Jack and Ed had been reunited to their party in the Mansion House at Fairport.

“Who was she?” and Cora looked appealingly at her brother, who smiled in a tantalizing fashion.

“We told you everything,” remarked Ed. “Over the wire, you know.”

“It’s very easy to tell things–over the wire,” remarked Belle, with a laugh. “One doesn’t have to–blush, you know.”

“And if one does, even the central operator can’t see it,” spoke Bess. “Oh, you boys have given us a big scare!”

“Scare? How?” demanded Jack, with a look at his sister. “We couldn’t help getting on the wrong road.”

“Perhaps not, Jack,” said Mrs. Fordam, gently. “But Cora was quite worried, and has been telephoning to police stations all along the route to see if she could get any word about you and Ed.”

“Did you?” asked Ed, quickly.

“There was one report of an auto accident,” spoke Cora, “and I was so frightened, Jack, until I heard that it was a big car, and then I knew it couldn’t be yours. But did it all happen as you’ve told?”

“Exactly,” exclaimed Jack.

“Girl and all?” Walter wanted to know.

“The girl most of all,” answered Ed. “How about it, Jack old man?”

“I’m with you. She―”

“Stop!” commanded Cora. “We don’t want you to incriminate yourselves any more than you have to. Besides it’s getting late, and we must get some rest to be ready for an early start to-morrow morning.

“But I have been quite worried, Jack, and I couldn’t get much satisfaction by telephoning. However, you’re here now, and we will forgive you. Did you have supper?”

“We had–dinner,” answered Ed, with a tantalizing smile. “It was a good one, too. Then we got on the right road and made pretty good time over here.”

The little party of young people was in the hotel parlor. As Cora had said, it was getting late, the hands of the clock approaching the midnight hour, and they all had had rather a strenuous time that day.

Jack and Ed had left their car in the garage with the others.

“Me for the downy feathers!” exclaimed Jack, with a yawn. “You look sleepy, too, Eline.”

“I’m not, even a little bit, really,” and she smiled brightly.

“They keep late hours–in Chicago,” remarked Belle, with a laugh.

“I really think we had better retire,” said Mrs. Fordam.

“That’s what I’m going to do–in the morning,” spoke Jack.

“You’re not going to stay up until morning, Jack!” cried Cora.

“No, that was only a joke,” he explained. “I mean I’m going to have a new tire put on the Get There–have it re-tired you see. Get the idea? It was a joke.”

“A tired one,” yawned Ed. “Come on to bed.”

“Say, if we try to get off any more smart sayings we’ll all have the nightmare,” suggested Walter.

“And it’s no fun to make a tour on one of those creatures instead of in an auto,” put in Norton.

The young travelers were soon on their way to that part of the hotel set aside for them. Mrs. Fordam had seen to it that the girls got the most comfortable rooms. The boys were not so particular.

“We’ll try and get started by nine o’clock,” suggested Cora, as she bade her brother good-night.

“That’s too early,” he protested. “Why, we’d have to get up and have breakfast at seven. Make it ten, Sis, and that will give me time to have that tire looked after. Otherwise I may be holding you back all along the route.”

“All right,” Cora assented. “We’ll make it ten.”

“Say, old man, who was she?” asked Walter, as he and Jack strolled along the corridor together. “Tell a fellow; can’t you? I won’t give you away if you were stringing the girls.”

“I wasn’t stringing them!” declared Jack. “It all happened just as I’ve said.”

“But who was she?”

“A mystery of the road,” put in Ed.

“Pretty?” Norton wanted to know, quickly.

“Pretty–pretty,” echoed Jack. “Really all she told us was that she had been working in an office, had become tired of it and was traveling about as a sort of vacation.”

“Did she look as though that might be the case?” asked Walter.

“Eminently so, my august cross-questioner,” answered Jack. “And that’s all I’m going to say. I’m dead tired. See you later,” and he went to his room.

“Who do you suppose that girl could have been?” asked Bess of Cora a little later, as they were putting up their hair for the night.

“I haven’t the least idea.”

“Why, how queer. I thought you did have!” and Bess looked at Cora in rather a searching manner.

“No. Why should I?”

“Oh, I haven’t any special reason for saying so, and yet–oh, well, it doesn’t make any difference I suppose, but―”

“Bess Robinson, just what do you mean?” and Cora’s eyes lost their slumberous inclination as she faced her chum.

“Why, Cora dear, nothing at all,” and Bess spoke very sweetly. “Only, from the way you spoke to Jack, and the way he answered, I fancied–oh, really it’s nothing at all. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“I don’t like those half-formed questions, Bess. If you think anything―”

“No, really I’m too tired to think, Cora. I’m going to bed.” They had adjoining rooms.

“Perhaps you have some theory yourself?” suggested Cora.

“None in the least. I don’t even know what a theory is. Is it that algebra affair?”

“No,” answered Cora, with a laugh. “You are hopeless, Bess. Good-night!”

Jack and the other boys were up early, despite the former’s objection to a too-soon breakfast. They ate before the girls had come down, and then went around to the garage to see about the cars, Jack to get a new tire for his, while Norton wanted the ignition system of his engine gone over.

It was when these attentions had been given that Norton, with a twinkle in his eyes, exclaimed:

“Fellows, I’ve thought of a joke!”

“What is it?” demanded Jack.

“Hush! Listen, as the telephone girl says. Pray thee come hither,” and he led the three to a corner of the garage. Then ensued some whispering.

“How’s that?” demanded Norton, when he had concluded. “Won’t it be rich? The girls won’t know what is up, for we can get Bess and Belle into the car, without them seeing the rear of it.”

“It’s a good trick all right,” admitted Jack rather slowly, “I only hope they won’t get angry about it.”

“Angry!” cried Norton. “How could they be? According to your story they’ve done worse than that to you fellows lots of times.”

“Sure they have,” declared Ed. “Go ahead and do it.”

“I have my doubts,” spoke Walter, deliberately, “but I’m not going to be the kill-joy. Go ahead, I’ll do my share,” but he was not very enthusiastic.

“We can get the cloth and paint here,” went on Norton. “I’ll do the lettering. You can make the pudding, Jack.”

“All right. But who’s to get in the car with Belle?”

“I will,” exclaimed Norton, quickly. “You fellows can make some excuse. I’ll let Walter drive my car, and Bess can ride with him.”

“All right,” assented Jack. “It’s a go,” and they proceeded to carry out their little joke, over the outcome of which Walter and Jack, at least, had some anxiety.

CHAPTER XI
THE GIRLS RETALIATE

“But why should we change our plans?” asked Cora, when, a little later, the boys had brought their own cars up in front of the hotels and had gone back for those of the girls. “I don’t see why Bess should ride with Walter.”

“No, but I see it,” said Walter, quickly. “I want to talk to her, and―”

“Oh, that’s a different story,” admitted Cora, with a smile. “But what will Norton do?”

“I’d like to drive the Flyaway, if I might,” put in the latter. “There’s a bad stretch of road ahead, and perhaps Belle may not be equal to it.”

“Don’t you dare intimate there’s danger ahead,” cried Belle.

“Not exactly danger,” returned Norton, with a wink at the other boys, “but the road is rough. If Cora wants to I guess Ed could drive her car for her, too.”

“Thank you, I’ll wait until I see what sort of a road we are going to encounter, and if I can’t negotiate it, I’ll let Ed take the wheel,” assented Cora. “But I’ve driven over some very hard stretches myself; haven’t I, Jack?”

“Indeed you have, Sis. But it’s all right if Belle wants Norton to drive for her for a change.”

“Well,” began the Robinson twin, “it all came so suddenly. I don’t know yet whether I want Norton to drive for me. Of course I’d like to have him in the car, if Bess wants to go with Walter for a change, and―”

“That’s it,” broke in Norton. “Just for a change. Hurry up now, girls, get in the cars and we’ll be off.” He ran here and there, helping lift in the luggage, and appeared anxious to make a start. In fact, the boys had seemed in a hurry ever since they brought up the girls’ cars, and this very haste might have made the motor maids suspicious, but it did not seem to.

Then came the proposal for the change in companionship for a time, and this took the attention of Cora and her friends. Jack had run his car close up to the rear of the Flyaway, so that the back of the tonneau was not easily seen.

“All aboard!” cried Ed. “We’re off!”

Quite a little throng had gathered on the sidewalk in front to see the start, and among the persons might have been noticed a certain number of boys, with paper bags concealed in their hands. These same boys might have been observed to be receiving signals–in the way of nods and winks from Jack and his chums, from time to time.

“I am sure those boys are up to something!” exclaimed Cora to Eline, as they took their places.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean some trick.”

“How can you tell?”

“Why, Jack’s so anxious to get us off. He paid the hotel bill for me, bought me a magazine and some candy. He never does things like that unless there is something queer about to happen. Does anything seem wrong? Do I look all right?”

“Perfectly charming, Cora. That’s a stunning sweater you have.”

“Yes, I like it. Then it can’t be me that he’s going to bother. I wish I could tell what it was.” She looked back to where Jack, with hurried politeness, was helping Belle into her car. He did not want her to have a glimpse at the rear of it.

“Well, we’ll see what develops,” spoke Cora, as she slipped in first speed, and prepared to set the clutch. She gave a last look back. The little cavalcade of autos was all ready to start. That of Norton, with Walter at the wheel, and Bess on the seat beside him, was directly behind Cora’s big maroon beauty, then came the machine of the twins and lastly that of Jack.

“Let her go!” shouted Jack.

Cora’s machine shot forward. Norton’s jumped as Walter let in the clutch. Then Jack, with a quick motion, pulled from the back of the Robinson car, that Norton was driving, a strip of white muslin. It left revealed another, containing the words:

ON THEIR HONEYMOON

“Let ’em have it!” cried Jack.

Instantly the urchins with the paper bags opened them and a shower of rice fell over Norton and Belle, being scattered liberally over Mrs. Fordam.

“Mercy!” cried the chaperone. “What is this? Stop it at once!” she ordered to the boys, but laughingly they persisted.

“Good luck!” cried the street lads.

“Hurray!”

“Send us a piece of wedding cake!”

Cora, turning, seeing the showers of rice and hearing the calls, guessed what had happened.

“This was Jack’s trick!” she exclaimed. “He’s given the impression that this is a big wedding party. Oh, wait until I get a chance to retaliate. Hurry up!” she cried back to Norton, who was grinning cheerfully, and trying to summon a blush to his cheeks to make him fit the part of the bashful bridegroom.

Walter shot Norton’s car ahead, and Norton guided that containing the placard out into the middle of the street. There the words were more plainly seen, and good-natured laughter came from the throng, who thought they understood the situation. The rice continued to fall, for the boys had bought liberally of it, and had bribed the street urchins to throw it.

“This is terrible!” exclaimed Bess, in the car with Walter, seeing what had happened.

“It’s only a joke,” he said. “But I was afraid you girls wouldn’t like it.”

“Like it? I should say not. I’m going to take that sign off our car at once.”

She made a motion as though to alight from the moving auto, but Walter detained her.

“We’ll take it off when we get around the corner,” he promised.

“What does this mean?” demanded Belle, rather indignantly, of Norton.

“I guess they take this for a wedding procession,” he replied.

“And who are―”

She stopped suddenly.

“I see!” she exclaimed, as the meaning of the rice came to her. “Well, I don’t think this a bit nice. I’d rather have my sister back here with me,” she went on coldly. “Mrs. Fordam, is there anything on our car–any of those silly white satin ribbons, or―”

“Old shoes?” suggested Norton, rather abashed at the way his joke had been received.

The chaperone looked over the rear of the tonneau.

“There’s a strip of cloth on here, with some letters on it,” she answered, “but I can’t read it upside down without my glasses. Surely―”

She hesitated for a moment, and then cried:

“The rice! Oh, I see! Boys, you shouldn’t have done it!” but she laughed nevertheless, and Norton felt more relieved.

“It was only in fun,” he protested.

“A boy’s idea of fun, and a girl’s, often differ exceedingly,” spoke Mrs. Fordam. “I really think it had better be taken off.”

The crowd had been following along the sidewalk, tossing rice and showering congratulations on those in the “bridal-car.” Norton saw that Mrs. Fordam meant what she said. So he stopped the machine and got out to remove the placard, just as Cora was about to turn around to learn more of the cause of the merriment. Norton ripped off the lettered muslin and tossed it aside.

“It may do for someone else to play a joke with,” he remarked. “I guess I got myself in bad here. I’ll have to make up for it.”

“There, you needn’t get out–Norton is fixing it,” said Bess to Walter. “But I think I’ll ride in my own car, if you don’t mind,” and she prepared to get out as he put on the brakes.

“Not mad; are you?” he asked, and there was a note of anxiety in his voice.

“No, not exactly,” she replied with a smile.

Cora, who had made the turn, and had learned what had happened, said nothing. She looked at Jack rather reprovingly, however. Then, the crowd seeing no more chance for fun, began to drop back. The autos went on, the twins in their own, and Walter back with Norton, while Jack and Ed rode together, Cora being with Eline up ahead–a pacemaker.

There was a little coldness among the girls and boys–on the side of the girls–when they stopped for dinner at a country hotel. Nothing of moment had occurred on the road, save that Cora got a puncture, and Jack and the other boys had no little difficulty in getting off an old shoe that had not been removed in some time.

A little later something went wrong with the carbureter on the car of the twins. The boys took turns trying to adjust it, as they were far from a garage. It was Norton who discovered the trouble–a simple enough matter–and remedied it.

“Doesn’t that entitle me to a rebate of punishment?” he asked of Belle.

“I’ll see,” she answered, but her glance was not as stern as it had been, and she ventured to smile a little.

With the offending placard removed, the cars proceeded onward again. They had planned to take the trip leisurely, and to stop over night at another hotel. The day following that would bring them to Sandy Point Cove in good time to settle the bungalows before dark.

“We’re going to the theatre to-night,” Jack announced, shortly after the arrival in Duncan, where they were to spend the night. He had gone out after reaching the hotel, and purchased the seats for a popular comedy then running.

“Oh, are we?” asked Cora with a lifting of her eyebrows, a signal, that had Jack but known it, meant more than he suspected. “That’s awfully nice of you, really.”

“It’s a fine show,” declared Norton. “A friend of mine saw it in New York.”

“What time are we to be ready?” asked Belle, with a look at Cora.

“It begins at eight, if you start now putting on your hats you’ll be ready in time, it’s only a little after six,” remarked Ed.

“Smart!” exclaimed Bess. “We can be ready as soon as you!”

After supper–or dinner whichever you prefer to call it–the boys went to their rooms to get ready for the little theatre party. The girls, with much whispering and not a little laughter proceeded, apparently, with the same object.

But a little later the motor maids, accompanied by their chaperone, Mrs. Fordam, slipped down a rear stairway, out into the ladies’ parlor of the hotel, and thence into two big limousine cars that awaited them. The girls had on semi-evening dress, with some flimsy chiffon veils over their heads in place of hats, which might account for the speed with which they got ready.

“Isn’t it nice we met those boys!” exclaimed Eline.

“They came just in time to make it possible for us to retaliate,” remarked Cora. “And our boys need a lesson.”

In the somewhat luxurious autos that had drawn up in front of the hotel were four young men in evening dress. They greeted the girls enthusiastically.

“It’s awfully nice of you to come on such short notice,” said one to Cora.

“Oh, we were only too glad to” she answered.

CHAPTER XII
AT THE COVE

“Well, what do you know about that?”

“It–well, so long as there are none of ’em here I’ll say it–it’s the limit!”

“They got back at us all right!”

“And to think we never suspected.”

“What will we do with these theatre tickets?”

Four young men, in freshened attire after their auto ride, stood disconsolately in the hotel parlor. Jack was fingering a note that a bell boy had brought him. Walter, Ed and Norton, with the assistance of Jack, had given voice to the expressions with which we have begun this chapter. The note read:

“Dear Jack:

“We don’t seem to care about the theatre this evening. I met Harry Dunn, and his two cousins–also another young man–Ralph Borden–and they asked us to go to a little private dance. Mrs. Fordam is with us. We met Harry at Lake Como last year, you remember. He is that tall, dark, distinguished-looking fellow. So we thought we’d prefer the dance to the theatre, especially as Belle and Bess have seen the play. Sorry to have to waste so many good tickets, but perhaps you boys will have time to paint another honeymoon sign.

“Cora.”

It was this note which had been handed to Jack as he and his companions had been waiting in the parlor for the girls, that had caused all the trouble.

“So, that’s their game!” exclaimed Cora’s brother, as he crumpled the paper up in his hand. “They’ve played a trick on us all right!”

“To get back at us for that sign on the auto, and the rice,” added Ed.

“I wonder if they really did go off to a dance?” asked Walter.

“Oh, yes, I know this Dunn chap–not half-bad,” put in Jack. “Sis and I did meet him last year. His folks have a country place somewhere round here. But how did he meet the girls and get them to come?”

“I have it!” cried Norton.

“Pass it over!” commanded Walter.

“You know that time my car developed a kink,” he continued, “and you stopped yours, Jack?”

“Sure,” assented Cora’s brother.

“Well, the girls went on, you know, and when we caught up to them I saw a couple of autos speeding down the road, as though they had been acting as escorts. I guess those fellows must have met the girls on the road, proposed the dance, and the girls accepted.”

“That’s it!” declared Jack. And so it proved, as they found out later.

“Well, there’s no help for it,” sighed Walter.

“We’ll have to go to the show alone,” added Ed.

“If we could only find some nice girls,” spoke Norton.

“We don’t know a soul in town,” declared Jack. “If that Dunn fellow had been half-way decent he’d have made some arrangement about us after he stole away the girls. Well, there’s no use wasting all the tickets. Come on to the show.”

So the boys went, but they did not have a very good time by themselves, and there was some amusement among the audience over four good-looking boys occupying eight seats.

As for Cora and the girls, they had a delightful dance. It had turned out as Norton had said. The girls, proceeding on ahead with Mrs. Fordam, after Jack and the boys had stopped to look after Norton’s car, had met young Dunn and his companions out for a spin. Cora knew them at once, and the young men, delighted at the prospect of such charming partners at a dance they had almost elected to forgo, invited the motor girls to it.

Mrs. Fordam, who was a distant relative of young Dunn’s father, had consented to the arrangement. The girls and she slipped away after Jack came in with the theatre tickets, proceeded to attire themselves most becomingly, and had been met by their escorts, who lavishly hired big cars to take their friends to the affair. Then Jack and his chums had been handed the note which Cora left for them. It had all been very simple.

“Wasn’t it glorious!”

“The floor was just splendid!”

“And those boys knew so many nice fellows.”

“My card was filled almost before I knew it.”

“The music was lovely!”

Thus chattered the motor girls as they came back to the hotel rather late–or was it early? with Mrs. Fordam. They saw Jack sitting disconsolately in the parlor, trying hard to keep awake by reading.

“Well, so you’re back!” he exclaimed to Cora, rather shortly.

“Yes, brother mine!” she laughed tantalizingly.

“Well, it’s about time,” he growled.

“Why, how long have you been back?” she asked. “I hear that it was quite a long and–tiresome–show. I’m sorry we had to disappoint you, but really we had no other way of telling you where we were going. It was a lovely dance!”

“Yes,” said Jack, coldly.

“And we hope you had time to embroider another sign for our car,” added Bess. Really, she said later, she could not help it.

“Um!” grunted Jack. “I sat up for you,” he added to his sister.

“There was no need, Jack. We had Mrs. Fordam. It was a very pretty dance. I am glad the girls had a chance to go.”

The girls seemed glad too, and really looked quite effective in their party growns, which were carried in the trunks that were strapped on the autos.

“Oh, it was lovely!” sighed Bess.

“And that tall young fellow was such a fine dancer!” echoed Eline.

“Huh!” growled Jack. “I’m going to bed.”

“I guess we’re all tired enough to re-tire–joke!” exclaimed Cora. “Good-night, Jack. Sorry we couldn’t go with you, but we had a–previous engagement!”

The boys did not say much next morning, though the girls were enthusiastic about their affair.

“If we could only have one two or three times a week,” sighed Belle, who was a fine dancer.

“We may, at Sandy Point Cove,” spoke Cora. “There is a pavilion there–also moving picture shows, to which the boys can take us,” and she glanced at Jack. He said nothing.

Once more they were on their way. The roads were good, and save for the fact that they took a wrong one shortly after lunch, and went a few miles out of their route, nothing of moment happened.

“Ten miles to Sandy Point Cove!” read Jack, as they stopped at a cross-road, to inspect the signboards. “We’ll make it in an hour.”

“And then for a bath in the briny deep!” cried Walter.

“I hope the fishing is good,” remarked Ed. “I haven’t caught anything in a month.”

“I hope the Pet has arrived,” Cora exclaimed. “I am just dying for a motor boat ride.”

“Let us hope it has then; we don’t want you to expire,” came from Norton.

In less than an hour they had reached the shore road and were spinning down it toward the cove where they were to spend the summer. As they mounted the bluff, around the end of the cove, from which a magnificent view of the ocean could be had, Cora uttered a cry:

“Look, that sailboat has capsized!” she exclaimed. And she pointed to a small sloop that had jibed and gone over in a sudden squall. As the motor girls and boys looked they saw a girlish form clinging to the rounded side of the craft, her bright red bathing suit making her a conspicuous figure against the dark hull.

CHAPTER XIII
THE LIGHTHOUSE MAID

Jack Kimball had always said that his sister Cora only needed an opportunity to prove that she could think quickly in emergencies, and could demonstrate that she was courageous. Cora had done this on other occasions, and now at the sight of the overturned boat, and the figure of the girl clinging to it, there came the chance for Cora, as one of the motor girls, to prove that her ability in this direction had not lessened.

Without another word Cora turned her car down a slight slope that led to the sandy beach. It was a perilous road, rather too steep to negotiate in a heavy car, but Cora had seen that it was encumbered with sand that would act as a brake.

“Where are you going?” gasped Eline, gripping the sides of the seat until her hands ached.

“Down to rescue that girl!” explained Cora, pressing her lips tightly together. She was under a nervous tension, and she needed all her wits about her.

“But in the car–the water―” faltered Eline.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to run my car into the bay. There’s a boat on shore–a rowboat–this was the quickest way to get down to it. Can you row?”

“Yes, Cora, but―”

“You may have to!”

The auto plunged down the steep, sandy slope to the beach. The others in the motoring party had brought their machines to a stop, and were gazing in wonderment at Cora.

“What are you going to do?” cried Jack. “Come back! We’ll get her, Cora!”

But Cora paid no attention. She had reached the beach, and quickly shut off the power.

“Come on!” she exclaimed to Eline, leaping out.

The two raced over the sand to where a light rowing craft was drawn up. There were oars in it, and Cora knew she and Eline could launch it. The girl on the overturned sailboat was making frantic gestures and calling:

“Hurry! Hurry!”

“Her boat must be sinking,” gasped Eline, as she and Cora reached the rowboat.

“It can’t be that,” answered the motormaid, with a quick and critical glance at the sailboat. “Probably there is some one else with her, who is in danger. She isn’t in any particular trouble that I can see. She must swim!”

By this time Cora and Eline had the boat in the water. The stern was still on the pebbly beach.

“Jump in!” called Cora. “I’ll shove off!”

“But you’ll get your feet wet!”

“What of it? As if I cared!” Vigorously Cora pushed off the boat, and managed to get in, though not without getting rather wet. Then, seizing one pair of oars, while Eline took the others, they rowed hastily out to the capsized craft. Other boats were now hastening to the scene of the accident, but Cora Kimball was the first to reach it. Jack and the other boys and girls had left their cars on the main road, and were racing down the beach.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came!” gasped the girl on the sail boat. “I’m holding him, but I can’t seem to pull him up here. He’s so heavy!”

“Who is it?” gasped Cora. She was rather out of breath.

“My little brother Dick. He got in the way of the boom, and the main sheet fouled. That’s why I jibed. I’d never have done it by myself. We both went overboard, and I grabbed him. I got up here, but I can’t pull him up. Oh, please help me!”

“Of course I will,” cried Cora.

“Then pull around on the other side, and you can lift him into your boat. I can swim ashore.”

Directed by the girl on the sail boat, Cora and Eline sent their craft around so that they were opposite the half-submerged deck, which was now perpendicular in the water. There they saw the girl holding above the surface of the bay the head of a boy about seven years old. He seemed as self-possessed as though he were on shore, and calmly blinked at the rescuing girls.

“He’s so fat and heavy,” cried the girl in the bathing suit.

“I’m very fat,” confessed the boy in the water, calmly.

Indeed he did seem so, even though only his head and part of his shoulders showed. The wind was rising a little again, having subsided somewhat after capsizing the boat. The surface of the bay was broken into little waves, and they splashed into the face of the fat boy. But he did not seem to mind.

It was easier than Cora and Eline had thought it would be to get him in the boat, for the buoyancy of the salt water aided them, as did the rather large bulk of the boy himself, it being a well known fact that stout persons float much more easily in the water than do thin ones.

“Give yourself a boost, Dick!” directed the girl in the bathing suit, to her brother. He did so with a grunt that would have been laughable under other circumstances, and soon he was safe in the other boat, very wet, but otherwise not hurt.

“Did you swallow much water?” asked Cora, anxiously.

“Nope,” was the sententious answer.

“I guess he’ll be all right,” remarked his sister. “If you will kindly row him over there, I’ll swim in,” and she pointed to the lighthouse.

“Do you live there?” asked Cora, gazing at the tall stone tower. With its high lantern, which glistened in the sun, it stood on a point extending out into the bay, just behind some menacing rocks that jutted far out into the water in a dangerous reef that the light warned mariners against.

“Yes, Dick and I live there,” answered the girl. “My father, James Haley, is keeper of the light. My name is Rosalie.”

“And you look it,” said Cora, brightly, as she noted the damask cheeks of the bathing girl.

“Oh, thank you!” came quickly.

“Won’t you get in this boat–I don’t know whose it is–I just appropriated it,” said Cora. “There is no need of your swimming.”

“Oh, I want to. I’ve gone clear across the bay, though Daddy had a boat follow me. I’ve won prizes swimming. No, I’ll just swim over.”

“Will your brother be all right with us?” and Cora looked at the small dripping figure in the boat.

“Oh, yes, Dick is as good as gold. He’ll do just as you tell him. I guess he was rather scared when he went over. But he can swim, only I was rather afraid to let him try this time.”

“What about your boat?” asked Eline.

“She will stay here. The anchor fell out when she went over, so she won’t drift. I’ll get one of the men to tow her ashore and right her. She’s a good little old tub. She’s capsized before.”

With that the lighthouse maid made a graceful dive and was soon swimming alongside Cora’s boat. The latter and Eline now rowed to the lighthouse, the girl in the water following, and the autoists on shore breathing more freely.

“Wasn’t that splendid of Cora!” cried Belle.

“Just fine!” declared Bess.

“Sis was right on the mark!” exclaimed Jack, with pardonable pride. “I wonder who that girl in the red suit is?”

“She’s some swimmer; believe me!” declared Norton in admiration.

“She is that,” agreed Walter.

“Say, it’s going to be no joke to get Cora’s car up that hill of sand,” declared Ed, glancing back to it.

“We can pull her up with ropes if we have to,” said Jack. “I wonder where our bungles are, anyhow? Notice that ‘bungles’–patent applied for!”

“I fancy those over there,” remarked Mrs. Fordam, pointing to two that stood somewhat removed from a group of cottages. “Yes,” the chaperone went on, “I can see Aunt Susan in the door of one waving to us.”

“Me for Aunt Susan, then!” cried Jack. “I hope she has something to eat!”

“Eat!” gasped Belle. “Do you boys think that Aunt Susan is going to cook for you?”

“Yes, wasn’t that the arrangement?” inquired Jack, blankly.

“Indeed not!” was the quick answer. “You boys are to do your own providing.”

“Well, we can do it!” spoke Walter, quickly. “And, mind, don’t ask us for some of our pie and cake.”

“Don’t worry,” remarked Bess, with a shrug of her shoulders.

The little accident in the bay had not attracted much attention. Several who had run down to the water’s edge, now that they saw the two rescued, strolled away again, while the boats that had started toward the capsized one veered off as the occupants saw the one containing Cora move away, and noted the girl swimming.

Of course Cora and Eline could have reached the lighthouse much quicker than Rosalie Haley had they desired, but Cora was a bit diffident about rowing up to meet a strange man with his rescued son, leaving the daughter swimming out in the bay.

“We’ll just keep with her,” whispered Cora to Eline, nodding toward the swimmer, “and let her do the explaining.”

“Yes,” agreed Eline.

They rowed on for a time in silence, the recently submerged boy saying nothing. Then Cora called to Rosalie:

“Won’t your father be worried?”

“I don’t believe so. He knows both of us can swim.” She talked easily in the water for she progressed with her head well out, being, in fact, an excellent swimmer. “Besides,” she went on, as she reached forward in her side stroke, “poor Daddy has other things to worry about. His sister has disappeared–our Aunt Margaret.”

“Disappeared!” echoed Cora.

“Yes, gone completely. And not under the most pleasant circumstances, either; but Daddy believes that it’s all a mistake and will be cleared up some day. But he is certainly worried about Aunt Margaret, and he’s had the authorities looking all over, but they can’t find her. So that’s why I know he won’t worry over a little thing like this. He’s got a bigger one,” and she swam on.

Cora wondered where she had heard that name–Margaret–before. She was sure she had, and under peculiar circumstances, but so much had been crowded into the last few minutes that her brain did not act quickly. It was a puzzle that she reserved for future solution.

CHAPTER XIV
SETTLING DOWN

When Cora, leading by the hand dripping Dick Haley, met his father, the keeper of the light, she exclaimed impulsively:

“I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before!”

It was rather a strange greeting under the circumstances, considering that Cora had just helped little Dick from the water. But the lighthouse keeper did not seem to mind it.

“I’m sure I can’t remember it, miss,” he made answer, “and I’m counted on as having a pretty good memory. However, the loss is all mine, I do assure you. Now what mischief has my fat boy been getting into?”

“It was not his fault, I’m sure,” spoke Eline.

“Indeed not,” echoed Cora. “Your daughter’s boat upset and we went out to help her. There she is!”

Cora pointed to a dripping figure, in a red bathing suit climbing up on a little pier that led to the beacon. Following the disclosure made to Cora, as Rosalie swam beside the boat, they had reached the shore. Mr. Haley had been off getting some supplies for the lighthouse and so had not witnessed the accident. The first intimation he had of it was when he saw his dripping son being led up by Cora and Eline.

“Upset; eh?” voiced the keeper of the light. “Well, it has happened before, and it’ll happen again. I’m glad it was no worse, and I’m very much obliged to you, miss. But I don’t ever remember seeing you before–either of you,” and he glanced at Eline.

“Oh, I’m sure you never saw me!” she laughed “I’m from Chicago.”

“Chicago!” he cried, quickly. “Why, I’m from there originally. I used to be a pilot on the lakes. But that’s years ago. Me and my sister came from there. But Margaret–well, what’s the use of talking of it?” and the worried frown on his face deepened, as he went down to meet his daughter, telling Dick to go up in the living quarters of the light to get on dry clothes.

Cora was sure she had seen the light keeper before, but, puzzle her brain over the matter as she might, she could not recall where it was. And the name Margaret seemed to be impressed on her memory, too. It was quite annoying not to be able to recall matters when you wanted to, she thought.

“But I’ll just think no more about it,” mused Cora. “Perhaps it will come to me when I least expect it.”

The lighthouse maid and her father met, and in a few words she told of the accident. He sent a man to tow in the overturned boat.

“But you are wet, too!” he exclaimed to Cora, as he noted her damp skirts and soaked shoes.

“Oh, that’s nothing!” said she. “I pushed off the boat. I don’t know whose it is, by the way.”

“It belongs to Hank Belton,” said the keeper. “He won’t mind you using it. Do you live around here?”

Cora told how they were coming to the bungalows for the summer.

“Ah, then I’ll see you again, miss,” spoke Mr. Haley. “I can’t properly thank you now–I’m that flustered. This has upset me a little, though usually I don’t worry about the children and the water, for they look after themselves. But I’m fair bothered about other matters.”

“I told her, Daddy,” broke in Rosalie. “About Aunt Margaret, you know.”

“Did you? Well, I dare say it was all right. I can’t see why she did it? I can’t see! Going off that way, without notice, and those people to make such unkind insinuations. I can’t understand it!”

He walked up and down in front of the little dock. Rosalie looked as though she would enjoy another plunge in the bay. Cora glanced over to where her friends awaited her in a group on the beach. Eline was looking at dripping Dick going up to get on dry garments.

“But there!” exclaimed Mr. Haley, “I mustn’t bother you with my troubles. I dare say you have enough of your own. But do come over and see us; won’t you?”

“Yes, do!” urged Rosalie.

“We will,” said Cora. “But now I must get back to my friends.”

“You had best take the boat and row over,” said the light keeper. “It’s shorter that way. You can leave her just where you found her. Hank won’t mind.”

“I’ll row you over,” offered Rosalie.

“No, indeed, thank you, we can do it,” spoke Cora. “We are anxious to get settled in our bungalows, so I think we had better go now. We will see you again,” and with a smile and a nod, she and Eline went down to the boat, which had been left at the lighthouse float, and got in. A little later they were with their friends.

“Well, Cora, you certainly did something that time!” remarked Jack.

“And you didn’t lose any time,” added Ed.

“Weren’t you frightened?” Belle wanted to know.

“Not a bit–not even I,” answered Eline, “and I don’t know much about the water.”

“Who was she? What happened? How did you get the boy out? Who keeps the light? Tell us all about it!”

Cora held up her hands to ward off the avalanche of questions, and told as much as was necessary. She did not mention having spoken about thinking she had met the keeper of the light before, nor about the insistence of the name Margaret. Nor did it enter into Eline’s brief added description of the events of that strenuously-filled half-hour.

“Well, here comes Aunt Susan,” remarked Mrs. Fordam. “I think she couldn’t wait any longer to learn all about what happened, and I don’t blame her. I’ll soon turn you girls over to her charge.”

“Oh, but you’ll stay with us to-night!” exclaimed Cora.

“Yes, and I’ll go back home in the morning on the train. Really I have enjoyed this trip very much, and I would like to stay longer, but I can’t. Perhaps I may come down during the summer to see you.”

“Please do,” invited Cora.

Aunt Susan proved worthy of her name, a home-like lady, with an easy manner, that made one feel comfortable at once. She simply “oozed” good things to eat, as Jack said, and Jack ought to know. Some of the young people she knew, having met them at Cora’s house. The others were presented to her.

“Well, the bungalows are all ready for you,” she went on, after explanations had been made. “I expect you’re tired and hungry and―”

“Wet,” interrupted Jack, with a look at Cora. “But then you can’t make rescues from the briny deep without getting at least damp.”

“I should like to change,” spoke Cora, glancing at her soaked shoes.

“Then come on,” said Aunt Susan. “I guess you boys know where your quarters are,” she added. “There is plenty to eat―”

“Hurray!” cried Jack, swinging his hat, and clapping Walter on the shoulder.

“Perhaps you’ll all have supper together,” suggested Mrs. Chester.

“If the girls let us,” added Ed.

“Oh, I guess we will,” assented Cora. “That is, if you get my car up. I didn’t think, when I ran it down, that the sand was so deep.”

“We’ll look after it–don’t worry, Sis,” said Jack.

While the girls and the two ladies went on to the larger bungalow, the boys managed, not without some work, to get Cora’s auto up to the road again. Then it was run along, with the others, to the big bungalow, where there was a shed that would serve as shelter for the machines.

The boys carried in the girls’ trunks and suit cases, and transported their own to their quarters. Then began a general “primping” time, as the supper hour approached.

“Oh, girls, isn’t this just delightful?” exclaimed Cora, as she and the others entered what was to be their home for the summer.

“That window seat is a dear!” declared Belle, as she proceeded to “drape” herself in it.

“And see the porch hammocks,” called Bess, “slumping” into one.

“What a fine view of the bay we can get from here,” added Eline, as she stood in the bow window, a most graceful figure. Cora, in spite of her damp shoes, had made a hurried trip through the bungalow to arrange, tentatively at least, as hostess, the different sleeping apartments.

“Oh, it’s just the dearest place!” exclaimed Eline. “I know we will simply love it here.”

“Now just put off your things, get comfortable, wash and comb if you like, and then the boys will be over to supper,” said Mrs. Chester, when the girls had made a tour of the place.

“Gracious! Here they come now!” cried Belle, as she saw Jack and his friends tramping over the space that separated the two bungalows.

The girls fled precipitately, for they had begun to lay aside their collars and loosen their hair. Then the two ladies took charge of matters, in the kitchen at least. The boys were bidden to remain out on the piazzas until invited in, and they sprawled in various attitudes in chairs or hammocks.

Then the girls came down; there was noticed throughout the bungalow various savory odors, at which the boys grinned in delight. There was the clatter of plates, and the jingle of silver–more expansive smiles. There were looks of pleased anticipation. Then came the clanging of a bell.

“Supper!” announced Mrs. Chester, appearing in the door wearing a huge apron.

“That’s us!” cried Jack.

“Oh, I’ve just thought of it!” exclaimed Cora in a low voice to Eline, as she walked beside her to the dining room.

“Thought of what?”

“The name ‘Margaret!’”

CHAPTER XV
LAUNCHING THE “PET”

“Pass the olives again, please!”

“Aren’t the lobsters delicious?”

“Are you referring to us?” Ed bristled up, and looked rather aggressively at Belle.

“If the net fits―” she murmured.

“Net being the sea-change from shoe,” spoke Jack.

“Please pass the olives,” came again from Bess, waiting patiently. “I’ve only had―”

“A dozen!” interrupted Ed.

“I have not!”

“Children!” rebuked Cora.

They were all at the supper table–I prefer, since we are now at sea, which makes so many equal–to call the late meal supper, in preference to dinner. No fisherman ever eats a “dinner” except at noon, and it was now well on to six o’clock. And they were making merry, were the motor maids and boys.

Mrs. Chester had made bountiful provision for the party and they were now enjoying it thoroughly. Over in the bungalow of the boys were ample supplies for days to come, though such as would not keep had been laid in sparingly.

“You girls certainly look nice enough to―”

“Eat, were you going to say?” asked Eline, who was particularly “fetching,” to quote Norton, whereupon Jack wanted to know what it was she was expected to “fetch.”

“Well, at least nibble at,” remarked Walter. “Some of you don’t look as though you would stand more than a nibble,” and he looked particularly at Bess.

“Oh, but there is so much to do,” sighed Cora, as she thought of the arrangements for the night. “We really must hurry through supper and straighten things out. Then we can rest to-morrow.”

“It doesn’t take you long to straighten out,” said Ed, with a jovial smile. “One minute you’re rescuing fat boys from the salty ocean, and the next you look as charming as–er–as―”

“As a mermaid,” finished Walter.

“How do you do it?” Norton wanted to know. “This is the first long motor trip I’ve taken, and I’m wearing the collar of your brother, with the necktie of Ed. I can’t seem to find a thing of my own.”

“It is all done by system,” said Cora.

“Hear! Hear!” cried Jack, English fashion. “Sis will kindly elucidate the system.”

“Finish your supper!” ordered Cora. “We want you boys to help carry around some of our trunks. We’re going to place them differently.”

“More work,” groaned Ed.

But the meal was finally over and the boys put the trunks in the rooms of the various girls. Mrs. Chester had engaged the wife of one of the Cove fishermen to come in to help with the house-work, so the two chaperones could leave the dishes to her while they helped the girls settle their apartments. The bungalow was of ample size, and they were sure to be comfortable.

The boys did some “straightening-out,” but it was more honored in the breach than in the observance. When they wanted a thing they “pawed” over their suit cases until they found it, letting the other articles settle where they might.

They were all out on the porch, talking and laughing over the events of the day, Cora being called upon to recount her experiences in making the rescue.

“Cora,” spoke Eline softly, when some of the motor boys and girls had voted for a stroll down to the beach, “what was it you meant when you said you recalled the name Margaret?”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you spoke of that. Do you remember the name of the woman I found in the garage the night of the fire?”

“Mrs.–Mrs.―” Eline paused.

“Mrs. Margaret Raymond,” supplied Cora.

“Yes, that was it. What of her?”

“Well, the light keeper has a sister who is missing. Her name is Margaret, too. She is the aunt of the girl in the red bathing suit.”

“Does anything follow from that?”

“Suppose I told you that as soon as I saw Mr. Haley, the keeper of the light, I was sure I had seen his face before?”

“Ah!” Eline was quick to grasp at a suggestion.

“Of course I have never seen him before,” went on Cora. “But his sister must bear some resemblance to him; don’t you think, Eline?”

“I should say so–yes.”

“Then take the name Margaret–the fact that his sister is named that–also that the strange woman who ran away from the office, and whom I found in our garage, was named the same–the fact that Mr. Haley’s sister is strangely missing, and under some sort of a cloud–which would also cover Mrs. Raymond–and you see the coincidences; don’t you?”

“Indeed I do!” declared Eline. “Oh, Cora, if it should turn out that they are the same person!”

“It would be remarkable. But even if it were so we could not help him. We could give him no clue as to his sister’s whereabouts now.”

“Well, we must find out what his sister’s last name is. He has invited us over there, and I think I can speak to him on the subject. It is worth trying, anyhow. Suppose we go and join the others.”

“Shall you tell them?” asked Eline.

“Not yet.”

They found the rest of the party down on the shore of the cove. The moon was up and the picture presented was an attractive one. Two points, jutting out into the ocean, came near enough together to make a sort of strait that led into the bay.

Opening out of the big bay was a smaller cove–called Sandy–from the fine extent of bathing beach it afforded. It was just back of this beach that several cottages had been put up, also the two bungalows occupied by our friends.

The point on which the lighthouse was built was somewhat in the shape of a shoe, and on the farthermost extremity were black rocks, extending, as I have said, out in a dangerous reef from which the flashing light warned vessels. The point was built up with fishermen’s cottages, or modest houses, and around the bay was located the village of Sandy Point, a small settlement, but one that was gradually growing as the summer colonists found out its beauty.

“I hope the Petrel is here, all right,” remarked Jack, when they had talked of many other matters.

“We’ll have to see the first thing in the morning,” declared Ed.

“Yes, I am anxious to get her afloat,” spoke Cora. “The water is lovely around here.”

“Well, you ought to know,” came from Walter, “you were out on it to-day.”

“We’ll have some fun bathing,” said Norton. “You say that lighthouse girl has won swimming prizes, Cora?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe we can get up some races,” came from Bess. “Do you swim, Eline?”

“Some. That’s what everyone says, I believe.”

They talked and strolled, and strolled and talked, until the lateness of the hour sent them to their bungalows.

There was some little excitement about getting settled for the night, for it developed that one of the trunks containing some garments of the girls had not arrived. But they “doubled up,” and were fairly comfortable. As for the boys, the sounds of merriment came from their quarters even at a late hour.

“I’m glad I don’t have to chaperone them,” remarked Aunt Susan.

Morning came, as it generally does. Jack and his chums got their own breakfast–in a more or less haphazard fashion–and then set off to the railroad depot to see about the motor boat.

It was safe in the freight office, and was eagerly inspected by the boys. For, while Cora and her motor girl chums really owned the dainty little craft, the young men felt that they had almost a proprietary interest in it.

“How are we going to get it over to the Cove?” asked Ed.

“On a truck, of course,” replied Jack. “Then we’ll knock off the cradle―”

“Rocked in the cradle of the deep!” burst out Walter.

“Where’s your permit to sing?” demanded Jack. “Stop it. Your swan song will come in handy when we launch the Pet.”

“Well, I guess this part of the work is strictly up to us,” remarked Norton, as he surveyed the boat. “And the sooner we get her into the water the sooner we can have a ride.”

“Right–oh!” exclaimed Jack. “I’ll ask the freight agent about a truck.”

That official told the boys where they could hire one, a certain man at the Cove making a specialty of moving boats.

A little later the boys were perched on a big wagon, containing the boat, and moving toward a boat-repair dock whence most of the launchings were made.

The girls had word of the little ceremony that was to occur, and they gathered at the place while the boys, with the help of one or two men, arranged to slide the un-cradled boat into the water.

All went well until toward the end. Then the boat seemed to stick on the rollers.

“Shove her hard!” cried Jack. “You fellows aren’t putting half enough beef into your shoves.”

“All together now, boys!” cried Walter. “Here she goes!”

Just how it happened no one knew, but the Pet suddenly shot down the ways, sliding over the rollers. Jack, who had hold of her amidships, kept his grip, and, as if not wanting to part company from the youth, or as if objecting to taking the plunge alone, the motor boat shot into deep water, carrying Jack with her. He clung to the gunwhale and shouted–not in alarm, for he could swim, but in startled surprise.

“Hold her, Jack, hold her!” shouted Walter. “Or she’ll smash into that other boat,” for the Pet, under the momentum of the slide, was going stern foremost straight toward an anchored sloop.

CHAPTER XVI
SUSPICIONS STRENGTHENED

The girls screamed. The boys looked on in startled amazement. The men who had been hired to help launch the boat stood with their hands hanging at their sides, as if unable to do anything. Finally Walter galvanized himself into action long enough to exclaim:

“We should have had a rope fast to her.”

“That you had, my lad!” agreed a grizzled old fisherman. “A rope and a kedge anchor on shore. Howsomever―”

“Can’t something be done?” demanded Cora, clasping her hands impulsively. “It must be! Our boat!”

The spectacle of the fine craft, in which so many of the hopes and expectations of the young people centered, about to be damaged, seemed to send a chill of apprehension to the hearts of the girls–more so than in the case of the boys. And it certainly looked as though a collision was unavoidable.

“And Jack!” cried Belle. “He’ll be smashed!”

“Not on that end,” remarked Ed, grimly. “If he sticks there he won’t be hurt. He’s as far away from the smashing-point as he can get.”

This was true, for Jack was now clinging to the stem of the boat, having edged his way along from amidships. He did not seem worried, and in fact was preparing to do the only thing possible to prevent a collision.

While the boys–Ed, Walter and Norton–were racing about, looking for an available boat to launch, regardless of the fact that it would be too late for all practical purposes, and while the fishermen helpers were disputing as to whose fault it was that a retaining rope had not been provided, Jack was carrying out his plan of action.

This was nothing more or less than to turn himself into a rudder. As a usual thing the rudder is on the stern of the boat–necessarily so–but in this case the stern of the Pet was the bow, as far as motion was concerned, and Jack, clinging to the stem, was on the stern, so to speak. So, vigorously churning with his feet, as a swimmer might tread water, he threw himself to one side, as a rudder might have been turned.

The effect was immediate. The Pet veered to one side, and the startled owner of the sloop, toward which the motor boat was plunging, had small use for the hook he had caught up in his excitement.

In another moment the Pet shot alongside the other craft, sliding rather violently along the rub-streak, and careening the sloop and herself as well. But no real harm was done save the removal of considerable paint and varnish. Jack had succeeded in his design.

“Well, what were you trying to do?” demanded the owner of the sloop, rather angrily.

“Trying to save your boat from harm,” answered Jack quickly. “Throw me a line, will you? and I’ll come aboard. I don’t want to get in the motor boat, all wet as I am.”

“Sure thing!” the man exclaimed. “That was a neat trick you worked. Mighty clever!”

He flung Jack a rope’s end, the two boats now having drifted apart. Jack pulled himself to the deck of the sloop, letting go his hold on the Pet, but Walter and Ed were now coming out to get her in a small boat. Soon she was tied safely at the float, and Jack returned to shore.

“How–how did it all happen?” asked Eline.

“Well,” said Jack, rather pantingly, for his breath was somewhat spent, “I had an idea that I gave a fairly good imitation, a la the moving picture performance, of how it happened. But if you’d prefer to have me play a return engagement, I might―”

“Don’t you dare!” cried Cora, as Jack made a motion as though to plunge into the water again. “Was that man very mad, Jack?”

“Oh, only so-so. Say, I am some wet!”

“Yes, you’d better go up to the bung, and change,” suggested Ed–“bung,” I may explain, being a short cut for bungalow.

“Guess I’d better,” agreed the damp one. “Say, but she’s leaking some!” and he looked into the cockpit of the motor craft.

“It will stop when the seams swell,” was Walter’s opinion. “Come on, fellows, we’ll look over the engine.”

“Yes, and please get some gasoline,” suggested Cora. “We may be able to go for a spin this afternoon. Come on, girls. Now that the Pet is in her element we’ll take a stroll around, and look at–well, at whatever there is to look at,” she concluded.

“Let’s go over to the lighthouse,” suggested Belle.

“Not now!” exclaimed Cora, quickly. “We’ll go some other time. Come on,” and leaving the boys to go over the intricacies of the motor boat, the girls strolled along the sand.

Jack hurried on the bungalow.

“Why didn’t you want to go to the lighthouse?” asked Eline of Cora, as they walked on, arm in arm. “I think they are so romantic. And perhaps that mermaid’s father might show us through it in return for our rescue.”

“Doubtless he would, and probably he will–later,” said Cora. “But, Eline, I want to do some thinking first.”

“About what?”

“About what that mermaid, as you call her, told me of her father’s worries. She―”

“Here she comes now,” interrupted Belle, catching part of what Cora and Eline were saying. Walking along the strand, with the chubby little boy who had been pulled from the water, was Rosalie.

“How do you do?” she called pleasantly to Cora. “Are you all settled? I think it must be lovely to live as you girls do, going about as you please.”

“And I think it must be so romantic to live in a lighthouse,” interposed Belle. “Do you ever tend the light?”

“Once in a while, when father is busy–that is, early in the evening. Father and the assistant, Harry Small, stand the night watches.”

“Do you ever have storms here?” asked Bess.

“Oh, often, yes; and bad ones too.”

“And are ships wrecked?” Eline queried.

“Occasionally.”

“Did your light ever save any?” asked Cora.

“Oh, yes, it must have, for the light can be seen for a long distance. Of course, we can’t say how many vessels have come in too close to the black rocks, and have veered off. But I know once or twice father has seen the lights too close in, and then, as the sailors saw the lantern flash, they would steer out. So you see they were warned in time.”

“That’s splendid!” cried Bess. “Think of saving a whole shipload of people!” and her eyes sparkled.

“How is your father?” asked Cora in a low voice, as she got a chance to walk with Rosalie, the other three girls going on ahead.

“Oh, he is still worried–if that is what you mean,” was the answer.

“That is what I do mean, my dear,” Cora went on. “I wonder if you would mind describing your aunt to us.”

“You mean the one who–disappeared?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

It was a challenge, and Rosalie looked curiously at Cora.

“Well, my dear, I fancy–no, I will say nothing until I learn more. But don’t tell me about her unless you choose.”

“Oh, I’m sure I don’t mind. Perhaps you would like to speak to father?”

“Possibly–a little later. But was your aunt a delicate woman, with iron gray hair, and rather a nervous manner?”

“Yes, that’s Aunt Margaret! But why do you ask?”

“I will tell you later, my dear. Please don’t say anything about it until I see your father. Do you suppose he would show us through the light?”

“Of course! I’ll ask him; and that will give you the chance you want!”

“Fine!” exclaimed Cora. “I’m afraid you will think this is rather a conspiracy,” she went on, “but I have my reasons. It may amount to nothing, but I will not be satisfied until I have proved or disproved something I have suspected since I came here.”

CHAPTER XVII
THE LIGHT KEEPER’S STORY

“Hurray! She’s going!”

It was Jack who cried this.

“‘She starts, she moves, she seems to feel―’”

“As though we’d catch a wiggling eel!”

Thus Ed began the quotation, and thus Walter ended it. The boys had been working in the motor boat, and had only now, after several hours, succeeded in getting it to respond to their labors. The motor started with a sound that “meant business,” as Jack expressed it.

“Let’s go for a run,” suggested Norton.

“Better wait for the girls–it’s their boat,” returned Walter.

“And we’d better pump some of the water out of her,” added Jack. “She leaks like a sieve.”

“Pump her out, and by the time the girls are here she’ll be ready,” spoke Walter.

“It was that carbureter all the while,” declared Ed. “I knew it was!”

“I was sure it was in the secondary coil,” came from Jack.

“And you couldn’t make me believe but what it was one of the spark plugs,” was Norton’s contribution. “But it was the carbureter, all right.”

“All wrong, you mean,” half grumbled Walter, whose hands were covered with grease and gasoline. “Some one had opened the needle valve too far.”

“Well, let’s get busy with the pump,” Jack said. “It’s too nice to be hanging around the float.”

The Pet was soon in as good condition as hasty work could make her, and on the arrival of the girls the whole party went out for a spin, though they were a bit crowded. Cora was at the wheel, a position her right to which none disputed.

“I don’t know these waters around here,” she admitted, “but Rosalie said there was a good depth nearly all over the Cove, even at low tide.”

“Rosalie being the mermaid?” asked Norton. “I should like to meet her.”

“I have asked her over to the bungalow,” went on Cora. “But I warn you that she is a very sensible girl.”

“Meaning that I am not?” challenged Norton.

“Not a girl–certainly,” observed Jack.

“Not sensible!” exclaimed Norton.

“Don’t give them an opening, boy,” cautioned Ed. “You don’t know these girls as I do.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” was the contribution from Bess.

“Why don’t you talk?” asked Jack of Belle.

“She’s too interested in how deep the water is, and wondering if she will float as well as dripping Dick,” mocked Eline.

“I am not!” promptly answered Belle. “And just to show you that I’m not afraid I’m going to try to swim as soon as we go in bathing.”

“Which will be to-morrow,” said Cora.

They motored about the bay, winding in and out among anchored and moving craft. Cora was as adept at the wheel of the Pet as she was at that of the Whirlwind, and many admiring comments were made by other steersmen in the Cove, though Cora knew it not.

“She stood her land journey well,” remarked Bess, as she noted how well the engine was running.

“But you should have seen the trouble we had,” complained Walter. “We thought she’d never go!”

The day was lovely, and it was a temptation to stay out, but Cora was wise enough not to remain too long on the water. Already the effect of the hot sun was evident on the hands and faces of all, and the girls were secretly wishing for some talcum powder.

They went back to the float, arrangements having been made to dock the Petrel there. Then came a hasty meal and another spin.

They were getting matters down to a system in the bungalows now–at least the girls were. The boys lived haphazard, as they always did, and perhaps always would. Mrs. Chester–Aunt Susan–in the absence of Mrs. Fordam, who had returned home–assumed charge of Cora and her friends to the extent of seeing that meals were ready on time.

It was their third day at the coast, the time having been well occupied–every hour of it almost–and the girls were out alone in the Pet–the boys having gone fishing–when Cora observed a figure in a red bathing suit near the lighthouse float waving to them.

“Rosalie–the mermaid!” exclaimed Bess. “What can she want?”

“Perhaps her little brother is in the water again,” said Belle.

“No, she doesn’t seem excited enough for that,” spoke Eline.

“We’ll go see,” was Cora’s decision.

The Pet circled up to the float and came to a stop at its side, not a jar marring the landing.

“Well done!” said Rosalie to Cora. “There are not many girls who can run a motor boat like that.”

“I have had some practice,” was the modest reply.

“Father will be glad to see you,” went on the mermaid, with a smile. “He has just been polishing the light, and I know he’ll be glad to show you through.”

She glanced meaningly at Cora, who returned the look.

“Welcome, ladies!” greeted Mr. Haley. “I’m real glad to see you. Visitors are always welcome. Are you good climbers?”

“Why?” asked Eline.

“Because we have no elevator, and it’s quite a step to the top of the tower.”

“Oh, we can do it,” Cora declared.

They were shown through the light, and the keeper explained how, by means of clock-work, propelled by heavy weights, the great lens was revolved, making the flashing light. It turned every five seconds, sending out a signal that all the mariners knew, each lighthouse being in a different class, and the signals they gave, either fixed or stationary, being calculated to distinguish different parts of the coast where danger lies.

On their return to the neat parlor, on the appearance of which the girls complimented Rosalie, who kept house for her father–his wife being dead–Cora saw a photograph lying on the centre table. At the sight of it she exclaimed:

“That is she!”

“Who? What do you mean?” cried Mr. Haley. “That is my sister!”

“And it is the woman who was in our barn!” Cora said. “I have thought all along it was. Now I am sure of it. Mr. Haley, I am sure I do not want to pry into your family affairs, but your daughter said something about her aunt being missing, and how worried you were. I am sure we have met her since–since her trouble. Perhaps we can help you.”

“Oh, if you only could!” exclaimed the light keeper. “My poor sister! Where can she be?”

“Suppose you tell me a little about her, and then I–and my friends–can decide whether the woman we met is the one pictured there,” and Cora passed the photograph to Bess.

“There isn’t much to tell,” said the keeper of the light, slowly. “My sister is a widow. After her husband died she went to Westport to work in an office. She had been a clerk before her marriage. Everything seemed to go well for a time and she occasionally wrote to me how much she liked it. A friend of hers was in the same building.

“Then my sister’s letters ceased suddenly. I got worried and wrote to her friend. I got an answer, saying there had been a robbery in the office where my sister worked, and that my sister had disappeared. A young girl left at the same time, and there was some doubt about the robbery, though two men were mentioned as being concerned in it. But my poor sister must have felt that they would suspect her–and she never would take a pin belonging to anyone else. But she went away, and I’ve tried all means to locate her, but I can’t. It has me worried to death, nearly.”

“What was your sister’s name?” asked Cora.

“Margaret Raymond.”

“That is the same woman!” spoke Cora, firmly. “Oh, to think we didn’t ask her more about herself!”

By degrees she and the other girls told the story of the woman in the burning barn. They did not so much as hint of their first suspicions about the fire.

“And what was the name of the girl who worked in the office with her?” asked Belle.

“Nancy Ford,” answered Mr. Haley.

“There can be no doubt of it,” declared Cora. “That settles it. What a coincidence! That we should find her brother here!”

“Oh, can you tell me where my sister is?” asked the light keeper.

“I am very sorry, but she went away in a hurry from my house,” said Cora, “and we have not seen her since. We feel sure she was the woman the sheep herder met that same night,” and she told about that incident.

“Bless that kind man–he helped her some, anyhow, and bless you girls,” said Mr. Haley, fervently. His eyes were moist, and those of the girls were not altogether dry.

“How can we trace her?” asked Bess.

“The only way I see,” spoke Cora, “is to write to the town toward which she went after the sheep man saw her. The authorities there might give some information.”

“I’ll do it!” cried the light keeper, as he made a note of the place. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Oh, we have done scarcely anything,” answered Cora. “We wish it were much more.”

Further details and forgotten incidents were mentioned as bearing on the case, and then the girls departed in the boat. It was a little rough going back, and the spray flew over them.

“Isn’t it strange?” observed Belle.

“Very queer how it all turned out,” agreed Eline.

“Poor woman,” said Cora. “I feel so sorry for her!”

The boys remained out fishing nearly all day, and when they returned, not having had exceptional luck, Cora took Jack to one side and asked:

“What was the name of the girl you and Ed met on the road the time of our break-down?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, Sis. If I knew I’d have sent her a souvenir postal. What’s the answer?”

“Oh, nothing, I thought perhaps she had mentioned it.”

“Nary a word. Did you have a nice ride?”

“Yes, we went to the lighthouse. And, Jack, what do you think? That woman–the one in our garage–is Mr. Haley’s sister!”

Jack was properly astonished, and he and the other boys listened with interest to the story of the identification.

“Say,” drawled Norton, “if we find Nancy Ford and Mrs. Raymond we’ll be doing a good thing.”

“If,” observed Ed, significantly.

CHAPTER XVIII
BELLE SWIMS

The tide was just right. In their newest bathing suits the motor girls had assembled on the beach in the hot sun. Their white arms and necks showed the winter of indoors, but their faces had already taken on the tan of the seaside. Soon arms and necks would be in accord.

The boys were out on the float, splashing about, occasionally “shooting the chutes” and diving from the pier.

“Is the water cold?” asked Cora, going down to where the waves splashed on the pebbles. Daintily she dipped in–just a toe. “How is it, Jack?”

Jack was tumbling about near the beach like a porpoise.

“Sw–swell!” he managed to gasp, the hesitancy being because a wave insisted on looking at his tongue, or trying to scrub his already white teeth–Cora could not decide which.

“Is it really warm?”

“Of course!”

“It feels cold.”

“I know. That’s because you stand there and stick one toe in. Get wet all over and–you’ll feel―”

Jack was suddenly plunged under water by Walter, who had come swimming up, so the sentence was not finished. But Cora could guess it.

“I’m going in; come on, girls!” she cried.

“Oh, wait a little,” pleaded Belle.

“And you said you were going to learn to swim to-day!” challenged Eline. She looked particularly well in her dainty bathing costume.

“Well, I–I didn’t know the water would be so deep!”

“Deep!” echoed Cora. “It’s getting shallower all the while. The tide is going out. Come on.”

She waded out a short distance, bravely repressing the spasmodic screams that sprang to her lips, and turning to the others said:

“It–it’s–fi–fine–co–come on–in!”

“Listen to her!” cried Bess. “It must be like a refrigerator to make her stammer like that.”

“It is not,” said Cora. “It–it’s real–real warm–when you–you–get used to it.”

“I have heard said,” remarked Eline with studied calmness, “that one can get used to anything–if one only makes up one’s mind to it.”

“Come–come on―”

Cora did not finish. A wave splashed up on her, taking her breath. Then, resolving to get it over with, she strode out, threw herself under water and a moment later was swimming beside Jack.

“Cora’s in!” exclaimed Bess. “I’m going too.”

“So am I,” added Eline. “Come on, Belle!”

Belle hesitated.

“I can only swim a few strokes,” she said. “I learned at Lake Dunkirk.”

“It’s much easier in salt water than fresh,” insisted Eline, taking hold of Belle’s arm. “Do try!”

Hesitatingly Belle waded out into the water. She gasped and choked as the chill struck through her, then, resolving to be brave, she plunged herself under. She gasped more than ever, but did not give up.

“You are doing fine!” cried Eline, as she struck out toward the float.

Suddenly Belle screamed.

“Are you going down?” asked Eline in alarm, yet they were not out beyond their depth.

“No, she’s going up!” asserted Walter, who was swimming near by.

“Don’t make fun of her!” commanded Cora.

“I’m not. She’s making fun of herself.”

Again Belle screamed.

“Oh! Oh!” she cried. “Something has me! I–I’m sure it’s a lobster.”

“None of us boys missing!” joked Ed, as he splashed up.

“Lobsters are worth forty cents a pound! Save that one! Save it!” commanded Norton, as he came alongside with strong, even strokes.

“Oh dear!” screamed Belle.

She really seemed in distress, but something nerved her to strike out as she never had before, and before she knew it she was swimming.

A figure in red guided to her side–a veritable mermaid. It was the girl from the lighthouse–Rosalie.

“Take it slowly–you are doing lovely!” she commended. “You are swimming!”

“Oh–Oh–I–I’m so glad!” cried Belle. “I’ve always wanted to, but they said I–I would be afraid!”

Rosalie was half supporting her, but really Belle was doing well, and gaining confidence every minute. As the lighthouse maid swam past Cora she managed to whisper:

“Father wants to see you. Come over when you can. I think he has had some word from Aunt Margaret.”

CHAPTER IX
GATHERING CLOUDS

The word which the lighthouse keeper had received was rather indefinite. It was a letter from his sister, but it only confirmed that which he already knew.

“And it doesn’t give me any address where I can write to her!” he complained when Cora had paid him a visit, in response to the invitation given by Rosalie during the swim. “It’s postmarked at–maybe you can see it, my eye-sight isn’t what it used to be,” and he held the envelope out to Cora.

“Edmenton,” she read. “That’s in this State.”

“Yes, but what good would it do to write to her there?” he asked. “She evidently doesn’t want me to know where she is. Just read the letter, Miss.”

It was not long and in effect said that Mrs. Raymond would not come back to her relatives until she had found Nancy Ford, and cleared her name of the suspicion on it.

“Don’t try to find me,” wrote Mrs. Raymond, “as I am going from place to place, working where I can. I am seeking Nancy. I thought she might have gone back where she used to live, but I wrote there and she had not arrived. I must search farther. I am doing fairly well, so don’t worry about me. Some folks have been very kind–especially some young ladies. I will tell you about them when I see you, brother–if I ever do.”

“She must mean you–the time of the fire,” said the light keeper. “I’m sure I’m much obliged to you for befriending my sister.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” protested Cora. “I wish we could have done more. I am sure we could have, had she not gone off in such a hurry. But we can’t blame her, for she was very nervous and excited.”

“Poor Margaret,” murmured Mr. Haley. “She was always that way. She tells me not to worry–but I can’t help it.”

“I suppose not,” agreed Cora. “You might try writing to Edmenton. The postmaster there might give you a clue, or tell you some one who could give information.”

“I’ll do it!” exclaimed the keeper of the light. “It will give me something to do, anyhow,” and he set to the task.

Cora had called at the light alone, not knowing what the nature of the communication might be that the keeper wished to make to her. It was the day after Belle had bravely struck out for herself in the water.

Cora said good-bye to Rosalie, who was busy about her household duties, and waved to little Dick, who was playing on the beach. Then, getting into the Pet in which she had come to the lighthouse float, Cora turned the bow toward the little dock at the foot of the slope on which the bungalows were perched.

“Well, you were gone long enough!” complained Jack when she got back. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What for?” she asked. “Has anything happened?”

“Nothing except that we fellows have heard of a motor boat we can hire cheap for the season, and we want to run over and look at it. The fellow who has it is on the other side of the Cove. Can I take the Pet?”

“Certainly, Jack. We girls are going to the life-saving station, anyhow. You’ll be back before lunch; won’t you?”

“I should guess yes!” exclaimed Walter, who had come up. “We wouldn’t miss our rations for anything.”

Jack and his chums were soon speeding across the bay. There was quite a sea on, for the wind was rising, and there seemed to be indications of a storm. But a number of boats were out on the water, and the Pet was a staunch craft. Also, Jack and the other boys were able to manage her, and all were excellent swimmers.

Cora and the girls went on to the life-saving station not far from their bungalow. They were much interested in the method of launching the boat, and the captain explained how it would right itself if capsized, and also bail out the water that entered in a storm.

“What do you do when you can’t launch a boat?” asked Belle.

“Use the breeches buoy,” answered the grizzled old salt. He showed how by means of a mortar a line was fired aboard the wreck, and how, by a sort of pulley arrangement, the persons in danger could, one at a time, be pulled ashore, sitting in the “breeches buoy.”

“It’s just like some of those apartment house clothes lines on high poles,” said Bess; “isn’t it?”

“I never heard it called that afore,” remarked the captain of the coast guard, “but I s’pose you could call it that if you was a mind to. If you’ll stay around a bit you’ll see our drill.”

The girls were delighted, and eagerly watched while the mortar was fired, the cylindrical shot carrying the line out to an imaginary wreck. Then one man played the part of a shipwrecked mariner, and was hauled over the sand, while Cora took several photographs of him.

“We’ve got her!” exclaimed Jack, as the girls returned to the bungalow. “She isn’t much for looks, but she can beat the Pet!”

“Who?” asked Cora, thinking of something else.

“The motor boat we hired. Come on out and we’ll give you a race.”

“Let’s!” exclaimed Belle.

“My, but you’re getting brave!” observed Ed. “The time was when a race frightened you even if you read of it in the papers.”

“I did not!”

“She can swim now,” commented Bess.

Motor maids and motor boys went out on the bay in the two motor boats. The craft Jack and his chums had hired was not very elegant, and she seemed to be rather uncertain about starting, and when she did the engine appeared to be protesting most of the while. But the boat made good time, and though it did not really beat the Pet (much to the disappointment of boastful Jack) it kept well up with Cora’s speedy craft.

For a week or more the young people enjoyed to the utmost the life on the coast. More people came to the little summer resort, and several social affairs were arranged.

There were swimming races, in which the girls and boys participated, even Belle entering in the novice class. But she won no prize, nor did she expect to.

“I just wanted to show Jack Kimball that I didn’t have to wear a life preserver nor be anchored to the shore!” she declared with spirit.

“I humbly beg your pardon!” said Jack, with a bow.

Then there were motor boat races, in which the Pet did herself proud, coming in first in her class. The boys had great hopes of the Duck, as they had re-named the boat they hired, but when they were doing well, and not far from the finish line, with every prospect of winning, something went wrong with the ignition, and they were out of it.

There were affairs on shore too, several dances to which the girls and boys went. Then there was a moving picture performance semi-occasionally, and some other plays. Altogether the summer was a happy one, thus far.

Nothing was heard of Mrs. Raymond, though her brother wrote a number of letters, and of course the missing Nancy Ford was not located. Though Jack and the boys insisted on staring at all the pretty strangers they met, playfully insisting that Nancy might be one of them.

“Of course she’s bound to be good-looking,” said Ed.

“Naturally,” agreed Jack.

“How do you make that out?” Cora wanted to know.

“Everybody named Nancy is good-looking,” asserted Norton, with his lazy drawl.

The girls laughed at this reasoning.

“Let’s go for a long run to-day, Sis!” proposed Jack one morning, when he called at the girls’ bungalow. “We can take our lunch, run around the lighthouse point, into the Cove on the other side, and have a good time. There’s said to be good fishing there, too.”

“I’ll go if the others will,” she agreed, and when she proposed it to them the girls were enthusiastic about it. Soon two merry boatloads of young people were speeding over the sun-lit waters of the Cove.

“We have to go right out on the ocean; don’t we?” asked Belle with a little shiver as she looked ahead at the expanse of blue water.

“Only for a little way,” said Cora. “Just round the lighthouse point. Then we’re in another bay again.”

“Are you afraid?” asked Eline.

“N–no,” said Belle, bravely.

As they went on the sky became overcast, and Cora looked anxiously at them.

“I’m afraid it’s going to storm, Jack,” she said.

“Not a bit of it!” he cried. “I’ll ask this fisherman,” and he did, getting an opinion that there would be no storm that day. Reassured, they went on.

The sea was not a bit rough and even Belle’s fears were quelled. They went past the light, close enough to see Rosalie waving at them. High up in the tower they could note Mr. Haley and his helper cleaning the great lantern and lens.

They reached the other bay in due time, but the gathering clouds grew more menacing, and Cora was for putting back.

“No,” urged Jack. “Let’s stay and eat our lunch. If it gets too rough we can leave our boats here and walk back over the point. It isn’t far.”

So the girls consented. The clouds continued to gather.

CHAPTER XX
THE STORM

“Jack Kimball, I knew we stayed too late! Now look over there!” and Cora pointed to the west, where a bank of dark and angry-looking vapor piled up in contrast to the lighter-hued clouds that had caused apprehension earlier in the day.

“That’s right–blame it all on me–even if it rains!” protested Jack. “You wanted to stay as much as we did, Sis.”

“Well, perhaps I did,” admitted Cora. “But really we should not have stayed so long. I am afraid we will be caught in the storm.”

“Do you really think so, Cora?” asked Belle, and she could not keep a quaver out of her voice.

“If I’m any judge we’re in for a regular old―”

“You’re it, old man!” and Walter interrupted Ed, who was evidently on the verge of making a dire prophecy concerning the weather. “Don’t scare ’em any more than you have to,” went on Walter in a low voice, nodding at the girls in the Pet. “We may have our hands full as it is.”

“Do you think so?”

“Look at those clouds!”

It was enough. Indeed all were now anxiously scanning the heavens that seemed to grow blacker momentarily. The little party, after having had lunch on the beach of the smaller cove, around the lighthouse point, were now on their way back in the two motor boats, and Cora, with a look aloft, had made the observation to Jack that opened this chapter.

“Well, turn on all the gas you can, Sis, and we’ll scud for it,” called Jack to his sister. “We may beat it out yet. If not, we can go ashore almost any place.”

“Except on the rocks,” spoke Cora. “The worst part will be round the point, in the open sea.”

“Oh, we’ll do it all right,” asserted Norton, confidently. “The wind isn’t rising much.”

The boats were close enough together so that talking from one to the other was easy. They were headed out toward the open sea, and as Cora guided her craft she could not help anticipating apprehensively the heavy rollers that would be encountered once they were out of the land-locked shelter. But the bow of the Pet was high. She was a good craft in rough weather, and as for the hired Duck, she was built for those waters.

“Let’s be jolly!” proposed Jack, for a glance at the girls in their boat had showed him that they were on the verge of hysterics. “Strike up a song, Ed.”

“Give us Nancy Lee,” suggested Walter.

“Nancy!” exclaimed Cora. “I wonder where that other Nancy is?”

“No telling,” declared Eline. “Oh dear! I hope it doesn’t rain. This dress spots so!” and she looked down at her rather light gown, which really she ought not to have worn on a water picnic. Cora had said as much, but Eline–well, it must be confessed that she was rather vain. She had good clothes and she liked to wear them, not always at appropriate times.

“It won’t rain!” asserted Jack. “Go ahead, Ed–sing!”

“‘Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep’ would be most appropriate,” voiced Norton. “We are rocking some.”

It was indeed getting rougher, and the motor boats bobbed up and down on the long swells. But as yet none had broken over the bows. Cora dreaded this, not because of any particular danger, but because of the effect it would have on her chums, particularly Belle, who, try as she might, could not conquer her nervous dread of the water.

The boys started a song, and the girls joined in, but a sudden dash of spray over the Pet’s stem brought a scream from Belle that made a discord, and they all stopped.

Jack, who was steering the Duck, stood up and looked ahead. They were approaching the point around which they must go to reach their own cove.

“Can we do it, old man?” asked Walter, in a low voice.

“We’ll try,” answered Jack, equally low. “If we give up now the girls will get scared. We’ll keep on a bit longer, and see where we come out.”

“Can’t you get a bit nearer in shore?” asked Norton.

“It’s risky,” said Jack. “It’s low tide now, and while this old tub doesn’t draw much there are a lot of rocks here and there, sticking almost up at low water. If we hit on one of them we’ll be in the pot for fair. The only thing to do is to stand out, and trust to luck. Once around the point we’ll be all right.”

“They’re coming in,” said Walter, nodding toward Cora and the others.

“Keep out! Keep out!” cried Jack. “It’s dangerous.”

“But the girls want to land!” cried his sister.

“You can’t now. The shore is too rocky. You’d pound her hull to pieces. Keep on around the point. The storm won’t break for half an hour yet.”

Rather reluctantly Cora put the wheel over. Yet she recognized the truth of what Jack had said. It would be dangerous to go ashore there. And to turn back was equally out of the question, since the wind was rising. It was at their backs, and to turn in the heavy sea now running might mean an upset. To face the waves, too, would be dangerous. The only chance lay in keeping on.

Jack’s prophecy about the storm was not borne out. With a sudden burst of wind, that whipped the salty spray of the waves over those in both boats, and a sprinkle of rain that soon became a downpour, the tempest broke.

The girls screamed, and tried to get under some bits of canvas that Cora had brought along to cover the engine. But the wind was so strong, and the rain so penetrating that it was of little avail.

“Head her up into the waves!” cried Jack. “Take ’em bow on, Cora!”

“Of course!” she shouted back, and gripped the wheel with tense fingers.

A little later they were out on the heaving ocean. Fortunately the point cut off some of the wind, and, having the gale at their backs helped some. But the two motor craft, separated by some distance now, had no easy time of it.

“Oh–oh!” moaned Belle.

“Be quiet!” commanded her sister. “Look at Eline!”

Eline was calm–that is, comparatively so.

“But–but she can swim better than I.”

“Swim! No one will have to swim!” said Cora, not turning around. “I wonder what’s the matter with that man?” and she pointed to one in a dory, who seemed to be signalling for help.

Then there came a further burst of the storm, and the rain came down harder than ever.

CHAPTER XXI
THE WRECK

“There must certainly be something the matter with that man!” exclaimed Cora. She had fairly to shout to be heard above the noise of the wind and rain.

“Well, we daren’t stop to see what it is,” said Belle. “Oh, do go faster, Cora! Get in quiet water! I am getting seasick!”

“Don’t you dare!” cried Bess. “Think of–lemons!”

“I’m going to see what is the matter,” declared Cora. “He’s waving to us!”

“What about the boys?” asked Eline.

“They don’t seem to see him. Besides, they’re past him now, and it would be risky to turn back. I can easily pass near him.”

The man, who was in a power-driven dory, was waving and shouting now, but the wind carried his words away. He seemed to be in some difficulty.

“Why doesn’t he row in out of the storm?” asked Bess.

“Perhaps he has lost his oars,” suggested Eline.

“Maybe that is the trouble,” remarked Cora. “Well, we’ll soon see.”

She changed the course of the Pet, though it was a bit risky for the seas were quartering now, and the spray came aboard in salty sheets. But the girls could not get much wetter.

Cora slowed down her engine by means of a throttle control that extended up near the wheel. She veered in toward the tossing dory.

“What is it?” she cried. “What’s the matter?”

“Out of gasoline! Can you lend me a bit so I can run in? I came out to lift my lobster pots, but it’s too rough.”

“Gasoline? Yes, we have plenty,” said Cora. “I’ll give you some.”

“Don’t come too close!” warned the fisherman. “Can you put it in a can and toss it to me? That’s the best way.”

“I’ll try,” promised Cora, as she cut off all power. The Pet was now drifting, rising and falling on the swells. Belle looked very pale, and Bess was holding her.

“Find something, and run some gasoline into it from the carbureter drip,” directed Cora, as she clung to the wheel.

“What shall I find?” asked Bess.

“Would an empty olive bottle do?” asked Eline.

“The very thing!” cried Cora. “Has it a cork?”

“Yes, and one olive in it.”

“Throw out the olive, and poke your handkerchief down in the bottle to dry it out before you put in the gasoline. Even a drop of the salt water the olives come in will make trouble in the gasoline. Hurry!”

“Look out!” cried the fisherman. “Fend off!”

“You’d better do it!” directed Cora. “We have no boat hook!”

“All right, I’ll attend to it.”

The two boats were drifting dangerously close together. The fisherman caught up an oar he carried for emergencies, and skillfully fended off the Pet, which was drifting down on him. In the meanwhile Bess, with the help of Eline, had dried out the olive bottle, and had filled it with gasoline.

“What shall I do with it?” she asked Cora.

“Throw it to the man.”

“I never can throw it.”

“Then give it to me,” and, holding to the wheel with one hand, with the other Cora tossed over the bottle of gasoline. The lobsterman caught it, called his thanks and gave the Pet a final shove that carried her past him.

“Can you crank her?” asked Cora to Bess, nodding toward the engine.

“I’ll try!”

It needed three tries, but finally the motor started, and the boat surged forward again. Cora, bringing her head up to the seas, noted that Jack had started to turn around to come back to her, but, seeing that the Pet was under way again, had gone on his own course.

The wind continued to blow, the rain never ceased and the storm increased apace. But finally, after a battle with the elements that made the hearts of the girls quail, they passed the lighthouse point, and shot around into the quiet and wind-protected waters of the bay. A little later they were chugging into the even calmer cove.

“Oh Cora! So frightened as I have been!” exclaimed Aunt Susan, as the dripping girls trooped up the hill to the bungalow. “Oh, what a storm!”

“But we weathered it!” laughed Cora, shaking back her damp hair. “It was a bit scary at first, but we came out all right. It was fun at the finish.”

“I’m never going out again when it’s cloudy!” declared Belle. “Never!”

“Oh, you’ll get used to it,” said Eline.

Dry garments, hot tea, and supper coming in the order named restored in the girls their natural happy dispositions. But the storm continued. It grew worse as darkness advanced, and the wind rose to a gale. The rain came down in torrents, and the boys, in spite of rain coats and umbrellas, were drenched a second time in the short trip from their bungalow to that of the girls, when they came to pay a visit.

“It’s a wild night,” declared Jack, as he and his chums got ready to go back, about ten o’clock.

“There must be quite a sea on,” said Ed.

“I wouldn’t want to be out in it,” remarked Walter.

“And I beg to be excused,” came from Norton.

“Think of the poor sailors,” said Eline, softly.

“I tell you what I’d like to do,” observed Jack.

“What?” Ed wanted to know.

“Go over to the lighthouse. It must be great up in the lantern room in a storm like this.”

“Don’t you dare to go!” cried Cora. “It might blow away.”

“No danger,” said Jack with a laugh. “But I’m not going. Another thing we might do.”

“What?” demanded Norton.

“Go out and find a beach patrol. We could walk up and down with him, and maybe sight a wreck.”

“Oh, don’t speak of a wreck!” begged Bess. “A wreck on such a night would be dreadful.”

“This is just the kind of a night when they have wrecks,” observed Ed, as a blast of wind and rain shook the bungalow.

As the boys were going out into the storm there came a dull report, reverberating on the night air.

“What was that?” gasped Cora.

“Sounded like a gun,” said Jack. “Maybe a ship at sea―”

There was a flash in the sky. It was not lightning, for there was no thunder storm.

“See!” exclaimed Eline.

“The lighthouse,” ventured Norton.

“The light is over there,” and Ed pointed to the flashing beacon in a different direction.

“Then it’s a rocket from some ship in danger,” declared Walter. “There goes another!”

It was unmistakably a rocket that went cleaving through the blackness. It came from off the lighthouse point.

“Some ship is in danger, or maybe off her course,” spoke Jack. “Well, we can’t do anything, and there’s no use getting any wetter. Come on to bed, fellows.”

“Oh, the poor people–if that is a wreck,” murmured Bess.

“If it was only daylight we might witness some rescues,” said Cora. “But at least let us hope it is nothing serious.”

It was Rosalie who brought the news next morning. Through the driving rain she came to the girls’ bungalow, her face peering out from beneath a sou’wester that was tied under her chin, her feet barely visible beneath the yellow oilskin coat.

“There’s a wreck ashore!” she cried. “I thought maybe you might like to see it! It’s out in front of our light, and they’re bringing the crew ashore!”

“Can they save them?” asked Cora, clasping her hands.

“Most of ’em, I guess. Want to come?”

“Of course we’ll go!” cried Eline. “The boys won’t want to miss this!”

CHAPTER XXII
THE RESCUE

Green masses of foam-capped water hurling themselves on the sand–thundering and pounding. A spray that whipped into your face with the sting of a lash. The wind howling overhead and picking up handfuls of wet sand, scattering them about to add to the bite of the salt water. The rain pelting down in torrents. A dull boom, repeated again and again. The hissing of the breakers. And, out in the midst, out in a smother of water, gripped on the sharp rocks that now and then could be seen raising their black teeth through the white foam was the ship–a wreck.

It was this scene that Cora, the other girls, and the boys saw as they hurried out to the lighthouse point. And it was one they never forgot.

They had hurried out when Rosalie brought the news that in the storm of the night a three-masted auxiliary schooner had come too far inshore despite the warning of the light.

“Father was up all night tending the lantern, too!” she shouted–she had to shout to be heard above the roar. “I helped him,” she added. “But in spite of it the schooner worked in. She couldn’t seem to steer properly. We could see her red and green lights once in a while. Then the current caught her and nothing could save her. She went right on the rocks. Her back’s broke, Captain Meeker of the life guards said.”

“Can they save the people?” Cora inquired, as she pulled her raincoat more tightly about her, for the wind seemed fairly to whip open the buttons.

“They’re going to try,” answered the lighthouse maid. “They got some of ’em off in the motor life-boat early this morning, but it’s too rough for that now.”

“What are they going to do, then?” asked Bess.

“Use the breeches buoy. It’s the only way now!” cried Rosalie. “They’re going to fire a line over soon.”

“We don’t want to miss that,” declared Jack.

The wreck had gone on the rocks nearly opposite the lighthouse that guarded them. In this case the guardianship had been in vain, and the sea was hastening to wreak further havoc on the gallant ship.

The boys and girls trudged down to the beach through sand that clung to their feet. They could see the life-savers getting their apparatus in order, and near them were huddled some men–evidently sailors.

“Those are the men who were rescued from the ship,” said Rosalie. “There are more on board, and some passengers, I heard. Some women and children, too!”

“How terrible!” gasped Belle. “Oh, I don’t see how any one can take a long voyage. I am so afraid of the water.”

“I don’t blame you–not when it acts this way,” spoke Eline. “It makes me shudder!”

The big green waves seemed to be reaching hungrily out for those on the strand, as though not satisfied with having wrecked the ship. The waters fairly flung themselves at the men whose seemingly puny efforts were being directed to save those yet remaining on board.

“Is the ship’s captain among them?” asked Walter, pointing to the group of sailors.

“No, indeed!” exclaimed Rosalie. “He’ll be the last one to leave. They’re always like that. My father was a captain once,” and she seemed proud of the fact, though now she was glad that her father was safe in the staunch lighthouse.

“That’s so, I forgot,” remarked Walter. “The captain is always the last to leave.”

“But I thought women and children came first in a rescue at sea,” suggested Ed.

“The women and girls–I heard there were some girls,” went on Rosalie, “wouldn’t get in the boat. They were afraid. Of course the breeches buoy is safer, but look how they have to wait. She may go to pieces any time now.”

“It’s dreadful,” said Cora, in a low voice.

She and her companions drew closer to where the life-savers were at work. The boys and girls were wet, for the rain penetrated through coats, and umbrellas were impossible. But they did not mind this, and Mrs. Chester had promised to have hot coffee for them when they got back to the bungalow. She had refused to go out to look at the wreck.

“I just couldn’t bear it!” she had exclaimed with a shudder.

The guards were burying in the sand a heavy anchor to which the main rope of the breeches buoy would be fastened. The other end would be made fast to the highest part of the ship, so that the person being pulled ashore in the carrier would be as far above the waves as possible. The three masts had been broken off, but the jagged stump of one stuck up, and could be seen when there came a momentary lull in the rain.

It was not very cold, though much of the heat of summer had been dissipated in the cool rain.

“If it was winter, how terrible it would be,” said Eline. “Sometimes I have seen lake steamers just a mass of ice.”

“Yes, there is something to be thankful for,” Cora agreed. “Oh, they are going to fire, I think.”

She pointed to where some of the men were setting the mortar, or small cannon, which is discharged to send a line to stranded ships. The mortar fires a long, round piece of iron, to which is fastened a light, but strong, line. When this falls aboard the vessel a stronger rope is hauled from shore by means of it.

“Yes, they’re going to shoot!” agreed Jack. “They must have trouble keeping their powder dry.”

Bess covered her ears with her hands and cried:

“Oh, if they’re going to fire I’m going to run!”

“Silly! It won’t make much noise!” exclaimed Norton. “They don’t use a heavy charge.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to―”

But Bess did not have time to do anything, for at that moment the captain pulled the lanyard that set off the mortar. The report was loud enough, though partly smothered by the storm.

“It fell short!” exclaimed Rosalie, who was watching intently. “See, it fell into the water!”

“Does that mean they can’t make the rescue?” asked Belle, in an awed voice.

“Oh, no, they’ll fire again,” answered Rosalie.

A guard was hauling in on the line, which had the weight attached to it. Soon it was in the mortar again, the line coiled beside it in a box in a peculiar manner to prevent tangling.

Once more the shot was fired.

“There it goes! It’s going to land this time!” shouted Rosalie in her excitement. A shout from the group of rescued seamen, in which the life guards joined, told that the shot had gone true.

Then began a busy time–not that the men had not worked hard before. But there was need of much haste now, for it was feared the vessel would break up. Quickly the heavy line was sent out and made fast. Then the breeches buoy was rigged, and in a little while a woman was hauled in from the wreck.

“Poor thing!” murmured Cora. “We must help her. She is drenched.”

“Yes, we must do something!” cried Belle.

“We’ll take her up to our kitchen,” proposed Rosalie. “There’s a good fire there, and I’ll make coffee.”

The woman was helped out of the buoy, and the motor girls went to her assistance. She seemed very grateful. She was the wife of one of the mates, and he was not yet rescued.

“I will stay here until Harry comes ashore!” she declared, firmly.

“And you know he won’t come, Mrs. Madden, until the rest of the women is saved,” explained one of the seamen. “Go with the young ladies. That is best,” and she finally consented.

In a short time several other women and two girls came ashore, one much exhausted. But by this time a physician had arrived, and he attended to her in the lighthouse.

Then the remainder of the sailors were brought from the wreck, the first one to get ashore reporting that no more women or girls remained aboard.

“There was one girl,” he said, “but she seems to have disappeared.”

“Washed overboard?” asked Cora, with a gasp.

“I’m afraid so, miss. It’s a terrible storm.”

Finally the captain himself was hauled off, and he landed amid cheers from the brave men who had helped save him. He said the vessel was now abandoned, and would not last another hour. In less than that time the wreck was observed to have changed its position.

Then amid the upheaval of the mighty seas the ship broke in two and was soon pounded into shreds of wood by the terrible power of the storm-swept ocean.

The shipwrecked ones were cared for among the different fishermen, some staying in the lighthouse and some in the quarters of the life-savers. The storm kept up harder than ever, and soon Cora and her friends decided that it would be unwise to stay out longer in it. So they sought their bungalows.

CHAPTER XXIII
THE FLOATING SPARS

Calm followed after the storm. The sea was sullen, and great waves broke on the beach, but the rain had ceased, and the wind had almost died out. But the tide heaved and seemed to moan, as though in sorrow for what it had done.

It was the morning after the wreck, and Cora and the girls had gone to the lighthouse to look out over the ocean. All vestige of the schooner had disappeared. The sea had eaten her up.

“Where are the boys?” asked Eline, as she walked along beside Bess. The girls had on rather make-shift garments, for they had become so drenched in the rain that their clothes needed drying.

“I guess they are–pressing their trousers,” remarked Cora. “Jack said he was going to, anyhow.”

“Vain creatures!” mocked Bess.

“I noticed you doing your hair up more elaborately than usual,” remarked Belle, with a glance at her sister.

“Oh, well, no wonder. It looked frightful–all wet as it was.”

“Vain creatures–all of us,” murmured Cora.

“Then the boys won’t be out for some time,” suggested Eline.

“I think not,” answered Jack’s sister. “I wonder what has become of all the shipwrecked people?”

“A good many of them went on to New York last night,” said Belle. “I met Rosalie early this morning and she said only two of the women were over at her place now. How did so many women, and those girls, come to be on the schooner?”

“It was a sort of excursion party,” explained Cora. “The schooner had an auxiliary gasoline engine. The company that owns it does a small freight business, and also takes passengers who like to go for a cruise. It seems that a party was made up, and tickets sold. Quite a number of women and girls, as well as some men, went along.”

“I guess they are sorry they did,” said Belle. “Oh, the dreadful sea. I’m never going in bathing again.”

“Oh, it’s safe in Sandy Point Cove,” exclaimed Eline.

“I wonder what happened to the missing girl?” asked Bess.

“Missing girl?” echoed Belle.

“Yes. Didn’t you hear one of the sailors say a girl was missing–perhaps swept overboard?”

“Oh yes! Poor thing!” and Cora sighed. “She may be–out–there!” and she waved her hand to the heaving ocean.

The girls were on the beach where the rescue had been made. The waves were still pounding away, but a life-guard who went past on his patrol remarked:

“She’ll be down a lot by night.”

“Were any of your friends hurt?” asked Belle.

“Working yesterday, you mean, miss?”

“Yes.”

“No. Bill Smith got his hand jammed a bit, but that was all. We get used to rough treatment.”

“I suppose so. The sea is very rough–it’s cruel.”

“Not always, miss. If you could see it–as I often do–all blue under the sun, and shimmering like–like your hair, miss, if I may be so bold, and with the gulls wheeling about, and dipping down into it–why, miss, you’d say the sea was beautiful–that’s it–just beautiful.”

“Oh, but it’s so often the other way–terrible–hideous!” murmured Belle, who seemed strangely affected.

“No, miss, begging your pardon. Even in a storm I love the sea. It it’s just grand, miss!”

“Well, I’m glad you can think so. I can’t. It makes me–shiver!” and a fit of trembling seized her.

The girls walked on. Some refuse–bits of wood and part of the cargo from the wreck–was coming ashore. The girls continued on down the strand, now and then venturing too close to the water, and being compelled to run back when a higher wave than usual rushed up the shingle.

“I wonder if we couldn’t go out in the boat?” spoke Cora at length.

“Don’t you dare suggest such a thing–to me!” cried Belle. “I’ll never go out again–after that terrible wreck!”

“But I don’t mean out on the ocean,” said Cora. “I mean just around the cove. It isn’t at all rough there, and you won’t mind it a bit.”

“Do come!” begged Eline.

“There isn’t a bit of danger,” urged Bess. “Why, you’ve often been out when there was more sea than this.”

“But not so soon after a wreck.”

“What has that to do with it?” Cora wanted to know. “The wreck is over. It wasn’t a bad one, except that the ship was lost. All the people were saved. I think it was wonderful.”

“All but that poor girl,” murmured Belle.

“Well, we can’t even be sure there was such a person,” remarked Eline. “It was only a rumor, and really, Rosalie said the captain could account for everyone.”

“You never can tell when there are a number of people,” supplemented Cora. “Perhaps this girl had her name down on the list, and, after all, did not go. Then, when she was looked for, and not found, they jumped to the conclusion that she had gone overboard. I’ve often read of such cases.”

“So have I,” declared Bess. “Come on, Belle. Let’s go for a ride. It will do us all good.”

“Oh, well, I don’t want to be a spoil-sport I’ll go; but, Cora, dear, you must take along a couple of life preservers.”

“A dozen if you like, Belle.”

“And you’ll promise not to go outside the bay–you’ll stay where it’s calm?”

“I promise!” exclaimed Cora, raising her right hand.

Rosalie came out of the lighthouse in her bathing suit.

“That girl fairly lives in the water,” said Eline.

“If I could swim as she does I would too,” spoke Bess.

“Hello!” called Rosalie, genially. “Isn’t it lovely after the storm?”

“Yes,” said Cora. “Have they heard anything more about the missing girl?”

“No. And no one seems to know who she was. Are you going for a spin?”

“We thought of it. Would you like to come?”

“I’d just love it! Only I haven’t time to change, perhaps, and I don’t want to―”

“Come just as you are–in your bathing suit,” invited Cora, and Rosalie did.

The boys must have finished pressing their trousers, or attending to whatever part of the personal attire needed attention, for when the girls got back to the float, and were getting the Pet in shape for a spin, Jack and Ed hurried down to look over the Duck. Both boats needed pumping out, for the water had rained in, and Walter and Norton were good enough to attend to this tiresome work for the girls.

Soon the two craft were moving over the sparkling waters of the Cove, which seemed to be trying to make up for what the sea had done the day before.

The boats kept close together, and talk and gay laughter passed back and forth. Then Jack and his chums, declaring they were going to see how far out toward the sea they could venture with safety, speeded up and left Cora and the girls in the Pet somewhat behind. But they did not mind–in fact, Belle insisted on keeping in safe waters. Nor was Cora averse to this.

The girls had been cruising about for perhaps an hour when Eline called:

“What is that over there?”

She pointed to a dark mass on the surface of the bay. Rosalie stood up to look.

“It’s a lot of spars lashed together,” she reported. “A sort of raft. Maybe it is from the wrecked vessel.”

“Then if it’s a raft there is some one on it!” cried Eline.

CHAPTER XXIV
SAFE ASHORE

“It’s a girl!”

It was Cora who said this as the motor boat drew close to the floating logs.

“A girl!” echoed Belle.

“Yes; can’t you see her long hair?”

All the girls were standing up–even Cora, who had to bend over to maintain her grip on the steering wheel. They all peered anxiously toward the floating object.

Certainly that was a figure on it–a figure of a girl–sea-drenched and washed over by each succeeding wave.

“She’s tied fast to that raft!” cried Bess.

“And her head is up on a sort of box–that keeps her mouth out of the water,” added Eline. “Oh, but she looks―”

“Don’t say it!” commanded Cora, sharply, and Eline stopped.

“Oh, if only the boys were here!” breathed Bess. “They could help us–help her,” and she motioned to the limp figure on the raft.

“We don’t need the boys!” exclaimed Cora, sharply. “We can make the rescue ourselves. That is if―”

“Don’t say it!” commanded Eline, thus “getting back” at Cora.

“Oh, do steer over there!” begged Bess, as Cora did not seem to be bringing the motor boat quickly enough toward the raft of spars. “We must get to her!”

“I am going to,” answered Cora.

“Oh, do you suppose she can be from the wreck?” asked Belle.

“I think very likely,” spoke Cora.

“Those spars–they are from the ship,” declared Rosalie. “They are broken pieces of the masts, perhaps. Some one must have made a raft before the vessel broke up, and she lashed herself to it. I have often heard my father tell of such things.”

“Oh, do get her, Cora!” exclaimed Belle, clasping her hands.

“Don’t go too close,” warned the lighthouse maid. “Some of those spars have jagged ends, and a bump would mean a hole in your boat, Miss Kimball.”

“Don’t, for mercy’s sake!” voiced Bess, clutching Cora’s arm.

“And don’t you do that to my arm or I can’t steer,” came the retort. “I’ll be careful.”

As the motor boat came nearer the girls could see more plainly the figure on the raft. It was that of a young girl, with light hair, that was now darkened by the sea water. She seemed to have wrapped herself in some blankets, or rugs, tying them about her waist, and then had lashed herself fast to the spars, or some seaman had done it for her.

She sat with her head against a box, which seemed to be nailed to the raft, and several turns of rope were passed about this in such a manner as to maintain the girl in a half-reclining position.

The waves broke over the lower part of her body, but her head was out of the water, though whether this had been the case when the raft was in the open sea was a question. Clearly much water must have washed over the raft, and perhaps the buffeting of the waves had rendered her unconscious.

“Look out!” warned Rosalie, as Cora sent the boat in a graceful sweep toward the raft. “Don’t go any nearer.”

“But we must save her!”

“Then let me try. I’ll dive overboard and swim to the raft. Then I can loosen the ropes and we’ll see what can be done toward getting her aboard. But be careful of your boat.”

It was good advice and Cora followed it. Rosalie stood on the stern, poised for a moment as Cora cut down the speed, and then gracefully dived overboard.

Up she came, shaking the water from her eyes, and struck out for the raft

“She’s alive–and–that’s all!” called Rosalie to the girls in the motor boat, as she bent over the one on the raft. “We must get her to a doctor quick!”

“How can we get her into the boat?” asked Cora.

“I’ll loosen the ropes, and then you can come up on this side. The spars are smooth here and your boat won’t be damaged!”

“Poor creature!” murmured Belle, as she watched Rosalie in her dripping bathing suit bending over the girl on the raft.

The ropes were soon loosed, and then, with no small skill, Cora brought the Pet alongside the raft. It was not an easy matter to get the limp and unconscious figure into the boat, but the girls managed it.

“Now for shore and the doctor!” cried Eline.

“Here is her valise,” called Rosalie, casting loose a rope that held a small suit case to the raft. “May as well take that, but I guess the things in it are pretty well soaked. She must have been adrift ever since the wreck went to pieces.”

She tossed the bag into the boat, and clambered in herself. Then Cora steered away from the raft, as Belle started the motor. They covered the rescued girl with her own wet rugs–it was all they could do. She was breathing–that was all.

Half an hour later they were safe ashore, and two fishermen on the beach had carried the girl up to the bungalow. A doctor was telephoned for in haste.

CHAPTER XXV
A SURPRISE

“Poor, poor girl!” murmured Cora. She was bending over the unknown who had been rescued from the raft. The girl lay in a stupor on a couch in the living room, having been made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, the girls having ministered to her with the aid of Mrs. Chester.

“I wonder who she can be?” said Belle.

“We shall have to interview some of those who were saved from the wreck,” spoke Bess. “One or two of the women, and two of the men are still here, staying with some of the fishermen, I think.”

“They might know,” remarked Eline, “but if we could look at the passenger list that would tell.”

“Where could we get it?” asked Cora.

“The captain may have saved it, but of course he is gone. Perhaps he took it with him.”

“I’ll ask my father,” said Rosalie. “The captain may have left it, or a copy of it, at the lighthouse. I’ll ask Daddy.”

The lighthouse maid had gotten out of her bathing suit on the arrival of the motor boat in the cove, and, in her ordinary attire had come over to the bungalow where the rescued girl was still in a state of unconsciousness.

“That will be a good idea,” said Cora. “I wish you would. But I don’t see why that doctor doesn’t hurry. Perhaps we had better telephone again.”

“I’ll do it,” offered Belle. “But perhaps we ought to try and revive her ourselves–some ammonia–” and she looked at Cora questioningly.

“I had rather not,” was the answer. “We don’t know what injury we might do her. She may have been struck on the head, or something like that. I had rather a doctor would examine her. Poor creature. Who can she be?”

No one could tell. The strange girl was pretty, and her light brown hair, now drying out, clustered around her pale face that looked so much like death that the motor girls were greatly affected by it.

“Her people must be terribly worried about her,” said Eline, softly. “Just think of it! They will read of the wreck in the newspapers, and see the list of those saved. Her name will not be among them, and they will think her drowned.”

“That is so,” agreed Cora. “Oh, why doesn’t that doctor hurry? If we could revive her she would tell her name and we could notify her folks. I’ve a good notion―”

Cora started for the telephone just as the bell rang. Cora snapped the receiver down from the hook.

“Yes–yes!” the others heard her say eagerly. “Oh, that is too bad! Your car has broken down while you were coming here? Yes, of course we want you! We have a strange case here. Wait! I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll come for you in my own car!”

Cora turned to her friends.

“Just think of it!” she cried. “Dr. Brown’s car broke down while he was on his way here. He’s over at Siconset and I’ll go over and get him.”

“Then take our car!” suggested Bess. “It’s just been filled with oil and gasoline. Yours may not have any in.”

“I will, thank you. You come with me, Bess; Belle and Eline can look after things until we get back. It isn’t far.”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Belle. “What–what will I do if she wakes up?”

“Oh, don’t be nervous!” exclaimed Cora, vigorously. “If she comes to her senses so much the better. Get her something warm to drink. She may be starving.”

“Very likely she is,” said Mrs. Chester. “Run along, Cora. We’ll look after things here. Bring the doctor as soon as you can.”

Outside Cora found Jack and the other boys anxiously waiting news of what was going on. They cried:

“Who is she?”

“Has she come to yet?”

“How did she happen to be on the raft?”

“Has she told you her story?”

“I can’t stop to talk now!” she replied. “I’ve got to go for the doctor. Jack, be a good boy, and run the Flyaway out for me. Bess and I are going in that for Dr. Brown. He―”

“Didn’t you telephone for him long ago?”

“Yes, but his car broke down.”

“I see. I’ll have the flyer here in a minute. Don’t you want my car? It’s lighter.”

“Or mine?” asked Norton eagerly, anxious to be of some service.

“Thank you both–no. Bess and I will make out all right. We don’t know who the girl is, nor what’s the matter. Get the car, Jack, do.”

The boys, who had come back from their little trip shortly after the girls had made the strange rescue, talked about the happening, while Jack ran the Flyaway out from the shed where it was kept with the other cars. Soon Cora and Bess were on their way to pick up the physician.

“She must have received a blow on the head. That is the only way I can account for her long stupor. Or perhaps she has received some severe mental shock. Of course the exposure and the fright of the wreck would add to it.”

It was Dr. Brown who spoke this way after examining the girl from the raft. Cora and Bess had made good time to get the medical man and bring him back to the bungalow.

“But she is coming around now,” went on the physician. “We will have her opening her eyes in a moment.”

“Perhaps the sight of this may help her when she begins to come to her senses,” suggested Rosalie, bringing in the suitcase that had been on the raft with the girl. “She seemed to value it very much, to take it with her in the time of the excitement of the wreck,” she went on. The bag had been lost sight of in the confusion of bringing the strange girl to the bungalow and in sending for the doctor. In fact, the other girls had almost forgotten that such a thing existed.

Rosalie now brought it in, sodden and damp from the sea water. She placed it on the floor near the couch on which the girl lay.

Idly Cora glanced at the suitcase. Some letters on it caught her eyes. They were partly obliterated, either by abrasion, or the action of the sea water, but Cora could see that they formed a name. She leaned forward, and read half aloud:

“Nancy Ford.”

“Girls! Girls!” Cora exclaimed. “Look–we have found her–the missing girl that Mrs. Raymond wanted so much to find. Nancy Ford! There she is!” and she pointed to the girl on the couch.

“Nancy Ford!” repeated Belle. “Who―”

“You don’t mean to say you don’t remember?” cried Cora. “The fire in our garage–the strange woman–the story she told–of the robbers–of Nancy Ford disappearing. There is Nancy Ford!”

“Look! her name is on the valise!” Cora pointed a slightly-trembling finger at it. “She is our waif from the sea. Oh, if she will explain things–if only everything is all right–and we could find Mrs. Raymond!”

“Perhaps–perhaps the missing money is in–that bag, girls!” whispered Belle.

The doctor turned around.

“Please keep a little quiet,” he suggested. “She will revive in a few seconds, and I don’t want her to have too much of a shock. She will be all right, I think.”

“To think that we have found Nancy Ford!” exclaimed Cora in a tense voice, but the room was so silent just then that it sounded louder than it otherwise would have done.

“Who is calling me?” came suddenly from the girl on the sofa. She sat up, looked around with big, staring eyes, in which the wonder grew as she noted the room and those in it.

“Who said Nancy Ford?” she demanded again.

“Easy, my dear, easy,” said Dr. Brown, softly. “You are with friends and you are all right. Drink this,” and he held some medicine to her lips. The girl drank unresistingly and then lay back again on the pillows.

CHAPTER XXVI
THE STORY OF NANCY FORD

“When do you think we can talk to her–question her?” asked Cora of Dr. Brown. It was some hours after Nancy had regained her senses. She had been fed some nourishing broth, and moved into a spare bedroom, where she was made comfortable.

“Is it absolutely necessary to question her?” the physician asked in turn.

“It seems to be important,” returned Cora. “If she is really Nancy Ford a great deal depends on it. She may be able to clear the name of a woman who has suffered much. If we could question her, learn her story, we might be able to help both her and the woman in question, Mrs. Raymond, who is a sister of Mr. Haley.”

“Oh, yes, the light keeper. I understood there was some mystery about his sister.”

“She has disappeared, and is searching for this very girl we rescued from the sea,” went on Cora. “I do not wish to make her ill, or disturb her, but if we could hear her story we might be able to act.”

“Hum, yes!” mused Dr. Brown. “Well, I think by evening she will be strong enough to talk. I want her to rest now. Yes, you may question her then. I shall leave some medicine for her, but principally she needs rest, and light but nourishing food. There is nothing serious the matter with her. She has received no injury that I can find. The shock and the fright caused her to lose her senses–that and being almost starved.”

“Poor girl! Out all alone–all night–on the ocean on that raft,” remarked Cora.

“I should have died!” sighed Belle.

“Oh, human nature can stand more than we think,” spoke the doctor. “Well, I must be going. I don’t know how I am to get around without my car.”

“Use mine!” offered Jack, quickly. “I shan’t need it. The old Get There needs running to keep her in good humor.”

“Very well, I will, and thank you.”

Dr. Brown looked in on his patient.

“She is sleeping,” he said.

“That is good,” murmured Cora. “But, oh! I do wish we could hear her story.”

“The fellows are anxious, too,” said Jack, he being alone allowed in his sister’s bungalow at this time.

There was a period of anxious waiting by Cora and her friends. Rosalie had gone back to the lighthouse to see if there was a duplicate list of the passengers on the wrecked schooner. She had come back to report that her father had none, and did not know where one could be obtained. The few members of the ship’s company remaining in the village could throw no light on the waif of the sea who had been so strangely picked up. Undoubtedly she was the girl supposed to have been washed overboard.

“She is asking for you,” reported Mrs. Chester, coming from the room of the girl that evening after supper. “She wants you, Cora.”

“Are you sure she said me, Aunt Susan?”

“Yes, she described you. She seems to be worried about something.”

“I will see her.”

Cora went into the room softly. The girl–Nancy Ford–to give her the name on her valise, which had not been opened, was propped up amid the pillows. She had some color in her cheeks now, and there was eager excitement in her eyes.

“How are you–Nancy Ford?” greeted Cora, pleasantly.

“I am not Nancy Ford–how–how–why do you call me that name?”

“It is on your valise.”

The girl started.

“My valise! Oh, yes! Was that saved? Oh, dear, I am so miserable! Yes, I am Nancy Ford. I don’t know why I said I was not. But I have been in such trouble–I haven’t a friend in the world, and–and―”

She burst into tears.

Instantly Cora was beside her, putting her arms around the frail figure in the bed.

“I am your friend,” said Cora, softly. “You may trust me–trust all of us. We are so glad we found you. Mrs. Raymond will be glad, also.”

“Mrs. Raymond!”

It was a startled cry.

“Yes.”

“Why–why, isn’t she still in the office? When–when I ran away she was there, and, oh! I didn’t dare go back. I–I was so afraid of those men. One of them―”

“Wait, my dear,” said Cora, gently. “Perhaps it will be too much for you to talk now.”

“No, that is why I sent for you. I wanted to tell you all. At first I decided that I would say nothing, but you have been so kind that I decided I must. Oh, that dreadful wreck! I shall never forget it. Poor Mrs. Raymond! And she is gone?”

“Yes, and we do not know where. Suppose I tell you how I came to meet her, and what happened?”

“Then I can tell you my story,” answered Nancy. “Please do.”

“First drink this,” and Cora gave some of the medicine that had been left by the doctor.

As briefly as she could Cora related the incident of the fire, and story told by Mrs. Raymond.

“That is just how it happened,” said Nancy, with a sigh. “Oh, I little thought when I ran out of the office that I would cause such suffering to an innocent woman.”

“Then she is innocent?” asked Cora, eagerly.

“Of course she is!”

“Oh, I am so glad! I thought she was all the while. Now, dear, if it won’t tire you too much, please tell me as much as you wish to. Then I will let the other girls know.”

“Well, I am Nancy Ford. I am sorry I denied it, but―”

“That’s all right, my dear. I understand.”

Nancy struggled with her emotion for a moment, and resumed slowly, with frequent pauses to compose herself.

“My parents died some time ago, and left considerable property to me,” said Nancy. “Not a big fortune, of course, but enough so that I had to have a guardian appointed by the court. And that made all the trouble. At first Mr. Rickford Cross, my guardian, was very nice. He helped me by advice, and suggested that I go to a boarding school.

“I did so, and spent some years there. Then, as the securities papa had left me increased in value, I began to think that perhaps I ought to know more about my own affairs, and not leave everything to my guardian. So, without consulting him, I left the boarding school, and went to a business college. He did not find it out for some time, as he was abroad.

“Perhaps I did wrong, but I wanted to know how to attend to my business when I had to. Oh, but Mr. Cross was very angry when he found it out. He wanted me to go back to boarding school, but I refused. I said I wanted some practical experience in an office, and, after some argument, he consented, and got me in the place where Mrs. Raymond worked. I liked her very much.

“I think my guardian must have had some business dealings with the man who ran the office. They were often together and finally I began to suspect that all was not right. I think Mrs. Raymond did also.

“Then my guardian and Mr. Hopwood, the man I worked for, had a violent quarrel. My guardian threatened to take me out of the place, and send me back to boarding school, for he was angry at me because I would not give him certain papers from my employer’s desk.

“Then my guardian insisted that I come to live with him and his wife. I did not want to, for I did not like either of them. But they made me go, and oh, the life I led!”

“It must have been hard,” said Cora.

“It was, dreadfully so. I was virtually a prisoner. Finally I decided to run away, and do anything rather than submit to my guardian. I hated and feared him. I got together what money I could, and it was a good sum, for my quarterly allowance had just been paid. Usually after I got it my guardian would take it away from me and dole out small sums. But this time he had no chance.

“So I ran away! It was hard to do, but it was harder to stay. I left the house one morning, taking my suitcase with me. I stopped in the office, intending to say good-bye to Mrs. Raymond, and when I had been there a little while my guardian suddenly came in with another man. I did not know him, but I feared my guardian had come to take me back. I screamed and ran out in fright before they could detain me. I have never been back, so of course I don’t know what happened to poor Mrs. Raymond. I did not tell her my story, and she did not know that the man I so feared and ran away from was my guardian. Oh, I didn’t know what to do!”

“Of course not,” agreed Cora, soothingly. “I can piece the story together now.

“After you left Mrs. Raymond either fainted, or was made unconscious by one of the two men–your guardian or the other. She doesn’t quite know what happened except that when she came to her senses you were gone, the money was missing and the men had vanished. She told all she knew, but her story was not believed, and her employer suspected her of taking the money. In great distress she hurried away, and, after some happenings she was found in our burning garage. I did not have a chance to ask all the particulars. But she did so want to find you, to know why you ran away, and who the men were you seemed to fear. She may still be searching for you.”

“But I don’t want to meet her!” cried Nancy.

“Why not?”

“She may–she may be in league with my guardian.”

“No, indeed–impossible!” cried Cora. “We will see that you are fully protected. I will communicate with my mother’s lawyer at once, if you will allow me. There is such a thing as having a guardian removed, you know. The courts will protect you.”

“And oh, I do seem to need protection!” sighed Nancy.

“You poor girl!” and again Cora’s arms went around her. “I will telegraph mother at once. We will have the lawyer come here!”

“Oh, can you do that?”

“Certainly I will, my dear. You need a new guardian most of all.”

“Oh, if I may only have one. Then I will be happy again. And I can clear the name of Mrs. Raymond, for I am sure either my guardian, or the other man, took that money.”

“They must have. But you have not told how you came to be in the wreck.”

“Oh, that was a mere accident. After I ran away I went from place to place, fearing my guardian might trace me, for I am sure his object was to get all my property into his hands. I heard of this sailing voyage, and I put my name down in the passenger list. I thought a sea trip would do me good, for I love the water. Then came the terrible storm–and they said the ship was sinking. Some of the sailors made a raft, but did not launch it.

“I was afraid to go in the boats, and more afraid of being pulled in on the rope. So I got a little food together, took my suitcase, and tied myself to the raft. I knew it would float, and I hoped to be picked up. Then the storm grew worse. The vessel was all in confusion, for the rescue was going on. No one noticed me. Then the ship went to pieces, and I lost my senses. The raft must have launched itself, and I floated on it. That is all I know until I found myself here. Oh, I can never thank you enough for all you did!”

“It was nothing,” said Cora. “If we could only find Mrs. Raymond now we could complete the story; and she will be so glad to know that you can clear her name.”

“Oh, but I shudder when I think I have to meet my guardian to do it.”

“You will not have to,” promised Cora. “I will see to that, Nancy dear!”

“You are too good!”

“Nonsense. Anyone would be good to you after all you have suffered. Now rest, dearie, and I will tell the others all about you.”

“They won’t blame me; will they?”

“Indeed not! They are all so interested in you, even the boys.”

“Have you boys here?”

“Yes, my brother and his chums. I will tell you about them later. You will like them, I think.”

“I am sure I shall. Oh, but it is such a relief to tell this to you!”

“I am glad it was, my dear. Now rest. I am sure you must be tired. The doctor will be here this evening.”

CHAPTER XXVII
A BOLD ATTEMPT

“Isn’t it romantic?”

“And to think of all that poor girl suffered!”

“I’d like to get hold of that miserable guardian of hers.”

“She has pluck, all right, to get out and hustle for herself.”

“Isn’t she pretty!”

“I do hope she gets all over her exposure.”

“Oh, yes, she is coming on finely.”

Rather disjointed talk, I am afraid, but that is exactly the way it went on–the motor girls and the boys discussing the story of Nancy Ford.

It was evening, and the boys had called to see the girls in the bungalow of the latter. Nancy had been visited by the doctor, who had reported her much improved. The telling of her story seemed to have taken an anxiety off her mind, and with food and medicine she was rapidly regaining her healthy young strength.

There had been rather a dramatic scene when Jack and Ed were first allowed to see Nancy. They both started back, and Jack exclaimed:

“It’s the girl!”

“And you are those nice boys–how odd,” Nancy had said.

“Please explain,” begged Cora.

“You know,” said Jack. “The night Ed and I got lost. It was Nancy we met and gave a ride in my auto.”

“I suspected it all the while,” said Cora, with a smile. “But I said nothing.”

“It was a mere accident,” explained Nancy. “I was just on one of the little trips I took after I ran away from the office, and I miscalculated my distance. It was awfully nice of your brother to help me.”

“Oh, Jack is always nice,” said Cora, smiling.

“That means you buy the candy, old man,” spoke Ed, with a laugh.

“Well,” drawled Jack, as he stretched out lazily on a sofa, later on, “now the only thing left to do is to find that Mrs. Raymond, and everything will be cleared up.”

“That, and putting that mean Mr. Cross in–in jail!” said Bess, with a vehement gesture.

“Would you be so cruel?” asked Walter.

“What else can you do with him?” demanded Belle. “He has certainly been mean enough to warrant being sent to prison.”

“‘In a prison cell I sit!’” chanted Ed.

“Stop!” commanded Cora. “Nancy may be sleeping, and the doctor said it was very important for her to sleep.”

“Then we’d better clear out of here,” was Norton’s opinion. “She’ll never get any rest while this crowd holds forth. Come on, Eline, I’ll take you to a moving picture show.”

“Not after what has happened to-day,” declared Mrs. Chester. “You young people have had your own way all day, and now I want you to quiet down. Boys, you will have to go home soon. Girls, it’s almost time you were in bed.”

“Aunt Susan is asserting herself,” remarked Jack, sotto voce. “But don’t count on me, Aunt Susan. I am immune.”

“You’ll go with the rest,” she told him.

They sat about for some time longer, discussing the strange tale related by Nancy. Then came good-nights.

Cora went to see Mr. Haley, the light keeper, next day. She told him what Nancy had related.

“Lobsters and crawfish!” he exclaimed, clapping together his brown hands. “Begging your pardon, of course, for using that sort of language, miss, but my feelings sure did get the best of me. And so this Nancy Ford can clear my sister’s name?”

“She can and she will. I have wired for mamma’s lawyer to come down, and he will arrange matters. There is only one difficulty.”

“What is that?” and the keeper of the light looked worried. “You mean that there is a possibility that my sister may even yet be guilty?”

“No; but where are we to find her?”

“That’s so. Poor Margaret! Where can she be keeping herself? If she would only come to me–or write, I could let her know that it was all right. And so those men were the robbers, after all?”

“It seems so, from what Nancy says.”

“Strange. I knew Margaret could not be guilty, but how to prove it was the hard part. When can we arrange it?”

“As soon as we can find your sister.”

“Oh, dear! And I haven’t the least idea where to look for her.”

“Don’t worry,” suggested Cora, gently. “We found our waif from the sea most unexpectedly, and I am sure we will find your sister the same way.”

“Not in a wreck, I hope,” said the light keeper, with a smile. “We don’t want any more wrecks on this coast. Which reminds me that I must see to the light.”

“It was no fault of your light that this wreck came,” said Cora. “Everybody says that.”

“I’m glad of it. If I had thought that my light failed, I–I’d never want to live longer,” and his voice trembled.

“The steering gear got out of order,” said Cora. “Nancy told me that. They could not control the vessel in the storm.”

“That’s always bad. Well, if we can find my sister all will yet be well. I can’t thank you enough for bringing me this good news.”

“I am glad I had it to bring,” said Cora, brightly.

Nancy Ford continued to gain in strength, and the day came when she could go out. There was a little celebration and the boys wanted to get up an auto or a motor boat party, but Cora drew the line.

“Some other time,” she said. Her mother’s lawyer came to Sandy Point Cove, and looked over some papers that Nancy had brought away with her. His opinion was that the dishonest guardian could be removed by the court, and he promised to take charge of matters. Nancy was much relieved.

“But where can we find Mrs. Raymond?” she asked.

“It will take time,” said the lawyer. “I will set some private detectives to work, and advertise, advising her that she can be proven innocent if she will come forward.”

Then came happy summer days. Nancy was adopted by the motor girls, and stayed with them in the bungalow. They went on long runs, or in trips in the boats on the beautiful bay.

They were always welcome at the lighthouse, and Mr. Haley liked nothing better than to sit and talk with the boys and girls, telling them sea stories, or listening to their little adventures.

But the search for Mrs. Raymond did not progress very rapidly. Nothing was heard from her. In the matter of removing Mr. Cross as Nancy’s guardian, the procedure had to be slow, as there were complications. But the lawyer was attending to matters, and promised that soon all would be straightened out.

By means of his representatives the lawyer, a Mr. Beacon, heard indirectly from Mr. Cross, but could not capture him. The latter was furious at the escapade of his ward, and threatened to have her brought back to him. In the matter of the robbery he insisted that Mrs. Raymond was guilty.

It was one glorious summer day when Cora had taken the whole party out for a spin. In her auto were Eline and Nancy, the others distributing themselves in the various cars as suited their fancy.

Several times, as they motored along the roads, they were passed, or passed themselves, a low, rakish motor car, of a dull dust color. Two men were in it, and once or twice they favored the occupants of Cora’s car with rather bold stares.

“I wonder who they can be?” asked Eline.

“Well, if they keep up this monkey business much longer I’ll find out,” declared Jack.

“Go easy, please,” suggested his sister.

The only incident, or, rather, accident that marred the trip, was when Cora’s car suffered a puncture. It was on the run home.

“You go on,” she called to the others. “I can fix it.”

“No, I’ll do it,” offered Jack. Perhaps the presence of Nancy in the car induced him to linger, together with Ed, who rode with him.

“All right,” assented Cora, not sorry to be relieved of the task.

As Jack was struggling with the tire irons, the rubber shoe being a most obstinate one, the low racing car that had several times passed them, again hove in sight. Cora was helping Jack, and Eline and Nancy had strolled down the road to gather a few wild flowers.

The racing car stopped, one of the men leaped out, and made a dash toward the two girls. Eline, looking around, screamed, and Nancy, hearing her, added to the exclamation.

“My guardian! My guardian!” she cried. “I won’t go–I won’t go!”

“Quick, Jack!” cried Cora. “They’re trying to take Nancy away. You must stop them!”

Jack, holding a heavy tire iron in his hand, leaped forward toward the two girls. The man had almost reached them, when there was heard the loud honk of an auto horn coming around the bend of the road.

CHAPTER XXVIII
A STRANGE MESSAGE

Nancy and Eline clung to each other. Nancy had started to run off into the woods, but found herself unequal to the task. A nervous tremor seized her.

“Oh, Eline, Eline!” she begged. “Don’t let him take me away! Don’t!”

But Nancy’s guardian was not destined to get her into his control this time. No sooner had the honk-honk of the other car been heard and it had swung into sight around the bend of the road, than the man in the other auto–the man who had accompanied Mr. Cross–called out:

“Look out, Rickford, this may be a trap!”

“You’d better believe it’s something to stop you!” cried Jack, still swinging forward on the run.

Cora, too, had started toward Eline and Nancy. She saw that the big car probably had nothing to do with the attempted abduction of the shipwrecked girl, and that it was only coincidence that brought it there at that moment. But it was a fortunate coincidence, for it frightened away the two men.

Like a flash Mr. Cross turned, sped back to his car, and in another instant he and his crony were speeding down the road.

“Oh, he’s gone–he’s gone,” sobbed Nancy on the shoulder of Eline.

“Of course he’s gone!” cried Jack. “If he hadn’t–” and he glanced significantly at the tire iron in his hand.

“Jack, dear,” said Cora, gently, with a warning glance at Nancy. Cora did not want her disturbed any more than was necessary.

“Well–” blustered Jack, and let it go at that.

“Was that really your guardian, Nancy?” asked Cora, when her new friend had somewhat composed herself.

“Yes, it was. Oh, has he gone?”

“Far enough off by this time,” declared Jack.

“I didn’t know him at first, for he has grown a beard,” said Nancy, “but when he came toward me I could tell by the look in his eyes that it was he. Oh, what an escape!”

“A very fortunate one,” said Cora.

The big car, the appearance of which had been instrumental, perhaps, in preventing the taking away of Nancy, drew near to the group of young people and stopped. There were two middle-aged men in it, and they looked at our friends curiously.

“Has anything happened–can we do anything?” asked the one at the wheel.

“Nothing but some tire trouble, thank you,” said Cora, quickly. “And my brother can manage that; can’t you, Jack?”

“Sure, Sis,” and he winked at her to show that he understood nothing was to be said about the affair that had so nearly been a real “happening.”

“If you want any help, don’t hesitate to ask us,” put in the other man. “We are in no hurry.”

“Oh, thank you, I can manage,” Jack answered. “I had the repairs almost made when the girls–thought they saw something, and screamed.” He winked at Cora again.

“Oh, I see!” exclaimed the steersman with a laugh. “A snake. We heard your screams, and thought perhaps―”

“It was just–nothing,” Cora said with a smile. Eline and Nancy had turned and were walking back toward their car, so the tear-stained face of Nancy could not be observed.

With renewed offers of aid, which were courteously declined, the two men proceeded, and Cora and the others were free to discuss the recent happening.

“Do you really think he meant to take you away–your guardian?” asked Cora of Nancy.

“I really do. Oh, he must be desperate! He must be trying to get my property away from me.”

“We’ll soon have him attended to!” said Jack, fiercely. “Our lawyer says the case will come before the courts soon, and then good-bye to Mr. Cross!”

“I wonder how he knew where you were?” asked Eline.

“You forget that the rescue of Nancy was told of in the papers,” spoke Cora. “Doubtless he read of it, and came on. He, or some of his men, may have been spying around and knew just when we went for a ride.”

“And they followed us, that’s one sure thing,” added Jack. “Their car passed us several times. They were just waiting for a good chance, and they took the first opportunity.”

“I should have known him at once, when they passed, but for his beard,” said Nancy. “Oh, I feel so nervous and weak!” She was on the verge of tears again.

“Come, we will go back to the bungalow,” suggested Cora. “I must tell the lawyer about it. He may wish to take some action.”

A little later they were back in the summer cottage, where, to the wonderment of the others, the strange story was told with all the details, for when Cora’s car developed the tire trouble the rest had continued on, Jack and Ed remaining behind.

“Oh, I’m glad I was not along!” breathed Belle.

“And I wish I had been!” exclaimed Walter. “Jack, you and Ed had all the fun.”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Ed. “Jack was the hero.”

“Only a near-hero,” said Cora’s brother. “I didn’t get near enough to do any damage.”

Mr. Beacon, the lawyer, on hearing the account of what had happened, at once took steps to expedite the matter of the removal of Mr. Cross as guardian of Nancy Ford. He declared that the attempted abduction would operate against the unprincipled man. The matter of the loss of the money, for which Mrs. Raymond was once suspected, had been gone into, and the indications pointed in many ways to Mr. Cross and his crony.

“But it doesn’t seem as if Mrs. Raymond would ever be found,” sighed Cora. “Poor woman!”

“Yes, my sister must be having a hard time,” said the keeper of the light. “I wish she would come to me. I could give her a good home now. The work is almost too much for Rosalie.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, Daddy!” exclaimed the little “mermaid.”

Summer was wearing on. It had been a most glorious one and the bungalow residents had enjoyed it thoroughly. They went off on several motoring trips, but they were careful always to remain in one party, and even then Nancy could not forbear a nervous glance about whenever another auto approached.

But Mr. Cross appeared to have taken himself to parts unknown. Private detectives who were looking for him, on an order of the court to which Mr. Beacon had appealed, reported that they could get no trace of him. Nor was the whereabouts of the missing Mrs. Raymond discovered.

In their two motor boats the young people paid visits to many near-by resorts, occasionally, when the weather was fine, even venturing out on the ocean. But, save for Cora, the girls were always a little timid about this, and so the ocean trips were not numerous.

One day Mr. Haley came hurrying over to the girls’ bungalow from the lighthouse. He held a paper in his hand.

“Where is Miss Kimball?” he asked of Belle, who answered his knock. “I must see her at once.”

“Why, has anything happened?” Belle asked in sudden alarm. She looked down on the beach, and was relieved to see Nancy safe there.

“No, miss, nothing has happened–yet,” replied the keeper. “But I received a strange message just now, and I want to tell Miss Kimball.”

“Cora!” called Belle, and Cora, who had been in an inner room, came out.

“What is it?” she asked, and Mr. Haley handed her the piece of paper.

“I just found that on my doorstep,” he explained. “I was home all alone, my helper being in town buying supplies, and Rosalie and Dick being out in the boat. Read it.”

“But how did it get there?” asked Cora, as she stepped over to a window to see more plainly.

“I don’t know, except some boy must have brought it there, left it and run away. It was weighted with a stone.”

“Then that’s probably how it was left,” suggested Belle. “But what is so mysterious about it What does it say, Cora?”

Cora read:

“If you would have news of your sister come alone to Shark’s Tooth at nine to-night.”

CHAPTER XXIX
AT THE SHARK’S TOOTH

“What a strange note!”

“Isn’t it? And the odd way it was delivered!”

“What is the Shark’s Tooth, Mr. Haley?”

The boys and girls were all together in the bungalow of the latter–or, rather, were out on the broad porch, for, following the visit of the light keeper, with the strange letter, they had gathered to discuss the matter.

“The Shark’s Tooth,” said Mr. Haley, “is a long, low ledge of rock, jutting out in the water about a mile above the light. It looks somewhat like a big tooth–the end of it does, I mean.”

“Will you go there?” asked Jack.

“I sure will, my boy.”

“Maybe it’s a trap,” suggested Ed. “This fellow Cross may be trying to get hold of you, Mr. Haley.”

“I’m not afraid of him. I think I’ll be his match,” and certainly the sturdy keeper looked able to take care of himself.

“But he may not be alone,” suggested Walter.

“However, we could go with you,” he added hopefully.

“The note says to come alone, my lad, and alone I’ll go. I’d do more than that to get news of poor Margaret. I’m not afraid.”

“You boys might be within call,” suggested Cora. “You need not be seen.”

“Well, I’d consent to that,” agreed Mr. Haley. “And it might be a good thing. And yet, somehow, I’m not worried.”

“This is certainly a trap!” declared Norton. “They want you to go there, a lonely spot–after dark. Probably they’ll take you off in a boat! Ha! I have it! Wreckers!” and he struck a dramatic posture.

“Wreckers?” questioned Jack.

“Yes, don’t you see. They want to get Mr. Haley in their control. Then they’ll carry him off, some of them will put out the light and lure vessels ashore by means of a false beacon. Then they’ll get the booty!”

“Say, what sort of a dime novel have you been reading lately?” asked Ed, with a laugh. “Wreckers!”

“Sure!” maintained Norton, earnestly.

“No, lad,” said Mr. Haley, quietly, “it isn’t wreckers, for the light would be well defended by my helper, even if they got me. Besides it’s dead low water at nine to-night, and they couldn’t get a boat within a mile of the Shark’s Tooth without staving a hole in her. The only approach is from the beach. I’m not afraid.”

“Besides,” added Cora, “this note was written by a woman. That’s plain.”

“A trick!” declared Norton, who seemed to insist on the melodramatic theory.

“Is this like your sister’s writing?” asked Belle.

“I really couldn’t be sure. Margaret was never much of a writer, and I can hardly see to read print, let alone writing, even with my glasses. So I couldn’t say as to that. However, I’ll be there.”

“And so will we,” added Jack, “out if sight, of course.”

“This is getting more and more complicated,” declared Bess. “Oh, I do hope it won’t turn out to be that horrid Mr. Cross, or any of his men.”

“Hush!” said Cora, in a low voice. “Don’t make Nancy nervous. She is alarmed enough now.”

It seemed as if night would never come, and the boys and girls hardly had the heart for amusements to make the time pass more quickly. They remained near the bungalows, going in bathing when the tide was right. Belle was learning to swim with considerable confidence.

“You are getting quite brave,” Cora told her when she had gone out to the float and back all alone.

Eline, who was rather daring in spite of her timid manner, made a half-suggestion that the girls go out in autos to see what happened at Shark’s Tooth, but Mrs. Chester, exercising her authority, vetoed the scheme.

Mr. Haley started off alone, and was followed later by the boys, who arranged to conceal themselves where they could have a view of the ledge of rock that was uncovered at low water.

There was a half-moon that night and by the light of it Jack and his chums could see the long, black ledge extending out into the bay. They had a glimpse of Mr. Haley walking slowly up and down the beach, now and then looking at his watch to note the time. Jack and the others did likewise.

“It’s nine now,” whispered Walter, after a long–a seemingly long–wait, though it was really only a few minutes.

“And nothing seems to be happening,” remarked Jack.

“Look!” suddenly exclaimed Ed, pointing to the sandy stretch. A dark figure was seen gliding over it–a figure of a woman–alone!

The light keeper heard the approaching footsteps, and turned quickly. He stood for a moment The woman had halted. Then Mr. Haley cried:

“Margaret!”

“Jim!” she responded, and they clasped each other close.

“I guess it’s all right–they don’t need us,” whispered Jack. “It’s his sister. She wrote the note. It’s all right, we’ll go tell the girls the mystery is solved and the missing one found.”

“That’s right,” was the answer. “Say, this is great, isn’t it?”

“It sure is.”

“Now that they are together―”

“Come on, they may hear us.”

“All right, I’m with you.”

But, as they started away, Mr. Haley called to them:

“Boys, come here. I want―”

“No, no, Jim dear! Don’t call anyone!” interrupted Mrs. Raymond. “I dare not be seen. You don’t know the stigma I am under. I even hesitated to come and see you in this secret way, but I am in need of help. It was the only way I could think of. I am so–so afraid of arrest.”

“Well, you needn’t be!” cried her brother. “We can prove your innocence!”

“Prove my innocence! How? Only Nancy Ford can do that, and she can’t be found, I have been searching for her so long–so long!” Her sobs prevented her from talking.

“But Nancy Ford is found!” cried the keeper of the light, “and the boys I called to–or rather their girl friends–found her. It’s all right, Margaret. Your name will be cleared, and you will be happy with me. It’s all right, Sister!”

“Oh, thank the dear Lord for that!” she sobbed.

CHAPTER XXX
HAPPY DAYS

The sun was shining on a shimmering sea. Little waves were breaking on the white sands. The gulls were wheeling about in big circles. Gathered in the old-fashioned living room of the lighthouse were the motor girls, and two other girls, Rosalie and Nancy Ford. Also the boys were there, Mrs. Raymond, her brother, and Mr. Beacon, the Kimballs’ lawyer. He had just concluded some remarks. It was the day after the strange night scene at the Shark’s Tooth.

“And to think how it all came about,” spoke Cora. “It is like a play, or a book.”

“It fits together like one of those Chinese puzzles,” remarked Jack. “At first it seems as if it never will, but one little touch, and–there you are!”

“And it was Cora who supplied the one little touch,” said Belle.

“Oh, I didn’t do it all,” remonstrated Cora.

“Well, your finding Mrs. Raymond in the burning garage started the whole affair,” insisted Ed. “But for that we never would have known of Nancy Ford, nor how important she was in this puzzle.”

“I don’t want to be important,” answered Nancy, with a smile. “I just want to go off somewhere quietly.”

“And you may,” spoke Mr. Beacon, the lawyer, with a smile. “The court proceedings will not take long, now that your guardian is arrested. The judge will require no further proof than his commission of the crime to remove him from having charge of you and your property, and some one else will be named in his place.”

“I wish the judge would name you!” exclaimed Nancy impulsively.

“Thank you!” laughed Mr. Beacon.

Mrs. Raymond had told her story. On up to the time she had fled from the office, when the two men came in, and her wanderings until she went into the Kimball garage, my readers need no enlightenment. After leaving Cora’s house so suddenly, for fear she might be suspected of having accidentally set the fire, the poor woman wandered from place to place, vainly seeking Nancy Ford. It was Mrs. Raymond whom the sheep herder had met that night when he spoke kindly to her. After that she kept moving about, getting work in various offices, for she was an expert in her line. But she could not find Nancy, for reasons very well known to my readers.

“And oh, how kind one of you girls was to me!” exclaimed Mrs. Raymond. “Your money saved my life I believe,” and she held out the little silver purse.

Finally, she explained, matters reached a point where she could get no more work, and she had to appeal to her brother. She had refrained from doing that fearing she might be traced through him, for she still feared she would be arrested for the crime she had never committed. But, growing desperate, she made the night appointment with her brother, hiring a boy to leave the note at the lighthouse, intending to explain matters to Mr. Haley, get some money, and go away again.

But it all ended happily.

“And so they caught Cross?” remarked Jack.

“Yes,” said the lawyer, “one of the private detectives got a clue and followed it up. They got his crony, too, the other man who came in the office when you ran out, Nancy. And they both confessed, after pressure was brought to bear on them. It is not the first crime Cross has been guilty of. He has a bad record, I am told. I learned of his arrest after I started here this morning, following your telegram,” he said to Cora, for, on learning of the arrival of Mrs. Raymond, Cora had wired to her mother’s lawyer to come in haste.

“Then my name is cleared?” asked Mrs. Raymond.

“Absolutely,” answered Mr. Beacon. “You will not even have to appear in court.”

“I wish I didn’t have to,” said Nancy, nervously.

“I can arrange to have a private hearing,” went on the lawyer. “It will be no ordeal at all.”

Nor did Nancy find it so. A kindly judge in his chambers, several days later, listened to the story, and named Mr. Beacon as guardian of Nancy Ford, whose property was, in the main, saved from the clutches of Mr. Cross. He had embezzled some of it, and that crime, with others, brought him severe punishment.

As for Mrs. Raymond, she went to live with her brother in the lighthouse.

“And now for some good times!” exclaimed Cora when all the legal matters had been attended to. “We have had enough of mystery and wonderings. You can spend the rest of the summer here with us; can’t you, Nancy?”

“If you want me, and have room.”

“Of course we want you!” cried Jack. “Remember you promised to ride in my car when we go over to Stony Beach to-morrow.”

“I asked her first!” cried Norton.

“But she promised me,” cut in Walter.

“Oh, what boys!” protested the blushing Nancy.

“Don’t mind them,” suggested Cora, putting her arms around her new friend. “You’ll soon get used to them.”

“I think I can get used to almost anything–after that shipwreck,” said Nancy, with a smile.

“Well, I like that!” cried Jack. “Comparing us to a shipwreck! Come on, fellows, let’s go fishing. The tide is right for crabbing, too,” and they went out, leaving the girls to themselves.

“In spite of everything–the fire, the shipwreck and the many wonderings it has been a wonderful summer,” said Cora softly, as they sat on the broad porch.

“And I wonder what the winter will bring forth–and next summer?” remarked Belle. But the further adventures of the little band of friends must be reserved for another volume, which will be entitled “The Motor Girls on Crystal Bay; Or, The Secret of the Red Oar.”

The summer vacation was almost at an end. There was one last motor boat trip, and then the Duck was returned to its owner, and the Pet again made ready for the land journey back to Chelton.

“Good-bye, bungalows, good-bye!” recited Cora on the day of their departure, as she got into her big maroon car.

“Good-bye, my lighthouse, good-bye!” sang Bess.

“And don’t forget to write to us, little mermaid,” called Jack to Rosalie. Blushingly she promised.

“What will Nancy say?” asked Eline.

“Oh, Nancy is coming to our house to stay–she won’t have to write,” said the bold Jack.

There were more good-byes, to the light keeper and his sister, to many fishermen and life-savers, whose friendship the boys and girls had made, and then the autos started off on the long trip to Chelton.

Gaily fluttered in the wind the flags they bore, the sea smiled under the yellow sun at the motor girls, seeming to beckon them to return, but they could not. And so, for a time, we will also say good-bye.

THE END

PEGGY STEWART

SERIES

By GABRIELLE E. JACKSON

Peggy Stewart at Home
Peggy Stewart at School

Peggy, Polly, Rosalie, Marjorie, Natalie, Isabel, Stella and Juno-girls all of high spirits make this Peggy Stewart series one of entrancing interest. Their friendship, formed in a fashionable eastern school, they spend happy years crowded with gay social affairs. The background for these delightful stories is furnished by Annapolis with its naval academy and an aristocratic southern estate.

The Goldsmith Publishing Co.
CLEVELAND, O.

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