“Sorry I couldn’t beat you!” called the young man, waving his hand to the girls in Cora’s boat. “You had more speed than I thought.”
“Are you sure it was a fair race?” asked Cora, looking at him sharply. Her tone was peculiar.
“A fair race? What do you mean?” he asked, wonderingly. “Do you think I should have given myself more of a handicap?”
“Oh, no indeed!” exclaimed Cora, blushing that he should have mistaken her meaning. “You were generous—too generous, I think.”
“Oh, that’s all right. I’m not complaining. Of course it was a fair race. The faster boat won.”
“I’m glad you think so,” spoke Cora, meaningly, as she thought of the partly-closed throttle.
“Oh, yes indeed. I’m satisfied!” he exclaimed in generous tones. “But is the dangerous place you spoke of near here?”
“Right ahead,” answered Cora, pointing to where the water was swirling in over some partly-hidden rocks. “Keep well out, and when you round the point you’ll be at Bayhead.”
“I’m greatly obliged to you,” was his reply. But Cora did not look at him, nor return his bow. She swung her boat around and started back for the bungalow. The young man, with a curious glance at her, bent over his motor to make some adjustment. In another instant his craft shot ahead, seemingly at greater speed than it had made at any time during the race.
“I don’t think much of him,” observed Lottie, as she took a more comfortable position on the cushions.
“Why not?” Belle asked.
“Because he didn’t even invite us to a tennis game, to say nothing of ice cream sodas, and there’s a place in Bayhead where they have the most delicious chocolate!”
“Lottie!” gasped Marita. “Would you have gone with him?”
“Oh, well,” with a shrug of her shoulders, “I don’t know as I would, only—he might have asked us.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” said Cora, and the manner in which she spoke caused her chums to look curiously at her.
“What makes you think so?” inquired Bess, merely for the sake of argument. She had stopped eating sweets—for the time being.
“Because he had a special object in view in asking us to race, and once that was accomplished he had no further use for us.”
“Why, Cora Kimball!” cried Belle. “What makes you say that?”
“Because I think it. You didn’t see all that I did.”
“What did you see?” asked Bess, eagerly. “Did he have some sort of weapon? Or do you think he tried to get us over this way, hoping we would be wrecked on the rocks? Maybe he was a wrecker, Cora. I’ve heard that there are some of those terrible people in this section.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Cora. “I only mean that his boat is a very powerful one. He did not ‘let her out,’ as Jack says, to the limit. He could easily have beaten us if he had wanted to.”
“The idea!” cried Belle. “I don’t like that kind of young man.”
“Nor I,” agreed Cora. “Not because he refused to win when he could, but because of what may be his object. That he had one I’m certain.”
The girls turned to look at the other motor boat. It was rounding the point to Bayhead now, and seemed to be going at remarkable speed.
“How fast it goes!” exclaimed Lottie.
“Yes, much faster than the Chelton,” responded Cora. “I told you he was holding back.”
“What could have been his object?” asked Belle.
And that was a question all the girls asked themselves.
“Well, my nerves are better, anyhow,” observed Bess, as she threw back the clustering hair from her face so that the wind might caress her cheeks, now flushed with excitement.
“That’s good,” spoke Cora.
“The antidote of the race and the excitement of the mystery, as to why the nice young man didn’t want to win, are guaranteed to cure nerves or money refunded,” said Lottie with a laugh. “Where are you going, Cora?”
“Back to the bungalow, of course. Mrs. Lewis may be anxious about us. It is nearly lunch time, anyhow.”
“Then it is time for us to be anxious about ourselves,” said Bess. “But I don’t believe Mrs. Lewis will worry. You know she went away right after doing up the breakfast things. She said she was going to consult some friends, for those she saw last night could not help her, and she may not be back yet. So there’s no need to hurry.”
“Then I have an idea!” cried Cora. “We have our tea outfit with us, and some crackers. Why not go ashore and have a little picnic? It will complete the nerve treatment, perhaps,” and she smiled at Bess.
“Good!” cried that girl. “It will be just the thing. Are you sure you have enough crackers, Cora? If not we could stop at the store on the point and get some.”
“Oh, there are more than are good for you,” was the answer.
Cora changed the course of the boat to send the craft over toward a pretty little wooded cove where the girls had often gone ashore for luncheon. They always carried in the boat an alcohol stove, with the necessary ingredients for tea.
Soon the Chelton was beached at a place where the small waves would do her no damage, and the girls were preparing luncheon.
They carried their own fresh water with them, not depending on finding a spring. Condensed milk, sugar and some tins of sweet crackers completed the meal, which was served on the grass for a table, paper napkins adding to the luxury of the occasion.
The picnic place was on a spit of land that jutted out into Crystal Bay. It could be approached from either side, and on one side there was some dense shrubbery that hid the water from sight.
It was when Cora and her chums were in the midst of their impromptu luncheon that they heard a boat grate on the beach that was hidden from view by the bushes.
“Someone is coming!” exclaimed Bess.
“Maybe it’s the boys,” remarked Belle.
“It’s about time they followed us,” suggested Lottie. “They don’t give us a moment’s peace.”
“Do you want it?” asked Cora pointedly, for Lottie had been rather taken up with Jack, of late.
“Oh, I don’t know,” answered the girl. “Of course the boys are nice, and——”
“‘Handsome is as handsome does,’” quoted Belle. “But that doesn’t happen to be the boys.”
“How do you know?” asked Bess.
“I just had a glimpse of them through the bushes. It’s a strange motor boat—neither the Dixie nor the Lassie.”
“Who is in her?” asked Cora.
“I can’t make out. Listen!”
She raised her hand for silence, but there was no need. The girls ceased chatting at once, and silently followed Cora toward a hedge of underbrush, some little distance from where their luncheon was spread.
Then they heard some odd talk—at least it seemed odd until they understood the meaning of it.
“So you had a race with them?” one voice asked.
“Yes,” replied another, who had just landed on the spit of the land. “I raced ’em, but I didn’t beat ’em!”
“Couldn’t you?”
“Couldn’t I? Say, you know what the Pickerel can do when she’s pushed to it. I held back the throttle.”
Cora started. Her suspicions were unexpectedly confirmed.
“You can see them from over here,” whispered Belle, pulling Cora’s sleeve. Cora moved to where an opening in the bushes afforded a glimpse of the strangers.
She saw three men, and one of them she knew in an instant to be the young chap who had raced with her. His boat, too, was on the beach. It was from her that the men had come.
“Well, you know how fast the Chelton can go now, that’s sure,” spoke a voice.
“Yes,” answered the young man, “I know. We needn’t fear her if it comes to a chase. That’s what I wanted to make sure of.”
“Then all we have to do is to get the rest of the evidence, and the property is ours.”
“Yes. We can turn the widow and the daughter out, all right, if we get the necessary papers. Then we can go ahead and build the dam across the brook.”
“That’s going to arouse a lot of opposition!” exclaimed the third member of the trio. “It will spoil the park.”
“Well, we can’t help it. We need the dam for power for our factory, and the people don’t really need the park. We’ll do it.”
“You mean we’ll make Shane do it!” exclaimed the young man who had raced with Cora.
The girls looked at one another with startled glances. Cora bent forward eagerly in order to better hear what else was said. She had no compunctions as to eavesdropping, feeling that it was justified under the circumstances.
“They must mean Denny Shane, the old fisherman,” whispered Bess.
“Hush!” cautioned Cora. Not only did she want to listen, but she was fearful lest the men on the other side of the hedge discover the presence of herself and her chums.
“Yes,” resumed the speaker, “we must make old Shane do it. Once we get him in the proper frame of mind he’ll testify just as we want him to. And we need some testimony to offset that of the widow and her girl. Otherwise we’ll never get the property without a long delay.”
“But how can we get Shane in the proper frame of mind to testify as we want him to?” asked another of the trio.
“Leave that to me,” answered the one who had been in the fast motor boat. And Cora started as she noted the difference in his tone now. It was hard and cruel, while, in speaking to her, his accents had been those of a cultured gentleman, used to polite society. There was a metallic ring to his voice now that boded no good to Denny Shane.
“Yes, I guess we’ll leave it to you, Bruce,” said a voice, “though maybe Kelly could put it over him with a bit of blarney. You know Shane is Irish.”
“Hush! No names, and not so loud!” cautioned the one who had been addressed as Bruce.
“Who’d be listening?” asked the other.
“You never can tell, Moran,” was the retort.
“There you go!” exclaimed Bruce, fretfully, and the girls knew it must have been the one called Kelly who spoke that time.
There was a movement on the other side of the bush, and Cora, with a sudden motion, crouched down, signalling the others to do the same. It was only just in time, too. Fortunately for the girls they were in a sort of depression, and by crouching down they got out of sight, as one of the men came forward to peer through the underbrush. He saw nothing, as was evidenced by his report a moment later.
“There’s not a soul here,” he said. “There’s been some picnic party around, but they’ve gone. It’s as deserted as a graveyard.”
“I’m glad we came away from our luncheon,” whispered Cora, as the men resumed their talk. The wind sprang up, for a moment, and carried their tones away from the girls, so that only an indistinct murmur could be heard. Then there came clear talk again.
“Well, what’s the program, then?” asked one whom the girls could tell was Moran. He was the same man they had seen before in the drug store.
“Get at Shane first of all,” decided Kelly. “I’m willing to let Bruce do it, even if I am Irish.”
“We’ll all have to call on him,” said Bruce, grimly, “but only one need actually do the business. We’ve got to deal with him in two ways. We’ve got to make him tell what we want brought out in court, and we’ve got to scare him so that he won’t tell what we don’t want known. And there are two ways of doing that.”
“How?” asked Kelly.
“First we can offer him a reward. It will be worth it, even if we have to pay something to have him testify as we wish. The committee allowed us a certain sum for—well, let us say for witness fees. I’d rather pay him a hundred dollars and have it all over with. It’s better to have a friend than an enemy, and you never can tell which way a thing like this is going to swing.”
“Sposin’ he won’t take the cash?” asked Moran.
“Then I have another plan,” and Bruce laughed bitterly. “I guess I don’t need to say what it is.”
“I’m wise,” remarked Kelly. “Only—not too rough, you understand. He’s a feeble old man.”
“No rougher than’s necessary,” agreed Bruce.
Cora clasped her hands, and looked with fear in her eyes at her chums.
“We——we mustn’t let them harm dear old Denny!” whispered Belle, shivering with nervousness.
“Hush!” cautioned Cora. “Don’t talk—think!”
There was a movement on the other side of the screen of bushes, as indicating that the men were about to leave.
“Well, we’ll let it go until to-night then,” said Kelly.
“Until to-night,” agreed Bruce. “And we know, in case of a slip-up, that there’s no motor boat around here that can catch us when we make our get-away.”
“There’s the Dixie,” suggested Moran.
“She’s out of commission, I heard,” responded Bruce. “And she won’t be in shape for a day or so. The Chelton—well, I gave her a try-out a while ago, and I know what she can do.”
“Oh, do you?” thought Cora. “Perhaps you don’t.”
“I have to laugh when I think how I took those girls in,” went on Bruce. “I pretending that I was a stranger in these waters, and they kindly offering to pilot me. I guess they took me for some society swell of Bayhead.”
“The mean thing!” hissed Lottie.
“Well, you can do the society act when you have to,” said Kelly. “Only I guess we won’t need that now. Shane doesn’t move in society circles. How’d the game with the widow’s daughter work out?”
“It didn’t work at all. ‘Confidence Kate’ didn’t gain her confidence. That’s why I’m switching to Shane,” answered Bruce. “But we’d better be going. There’s lots to be done.”
Cora and the motor girls listened in silence as the men crunched their way down the beach to their boat.
A little later they were chugging away in the speedy Pickerel.
“Isn’t that just awful!” gasped Belle.
“It’s a villainous plot!” exclaimed Bess. “Oh, I’m so nervous! I know I’m going to cry—or laugh—or do both.”
“Bess Robinson, if you do anything foolish, or faint, you shan’t do a thing toward helping to save Denny Shane!” exclaimed Cora, vigorously. “And I know you do want to help him.”
“I certainly do. I’ll behave. Oh, let me have a cup of tea.”
“I think we’ll all be better for it,” assented Cora. “Come, girls, let’s eat and then we’ll get back. We, too, have a great deal to do.”
“Do you mean that you girls are going to try to——to outwit those desperate men?” asked Marita, her eyes opened wide.
“We certainly do mean to!” insisted Cora. “Who else would do it?”
“Why, the police.”
“There are only constables in a place like this. We can do better than they—especially with the boys to help.”
“Oh, of course, the boys!” agreed Marita, and she seemed relieved.
“I must say it was most providential that we heard what they said,” spoke Lottie, looking to see if there were any grass stains on her dress.
“Indeed it was,” assented Cora.
It was rather an excited little luncheon, but the hot tea did them all good, and then, rapidly talking over what they had just gone through, and making all sorts of plans to outwit the schemers, the girls got into their boat again, and headed for the bungalow.
“Of course we must warn Denny at once,” said Cora, and to this the girls agreed. “Then we’ll tell the boys, and see what they suggest. But I almost know what Jack will say!”
“What?” asked Lottie. She was very much interested in Jack.
“Oh, he’ll want to hide and capture the villains ‘red-handed,’ as he calls it.”
“And I don’t know but what that’s as good a plan as any,” remarked Belle. “I’d like to see them do it!”
Cora and her chums found Mrs. Lewis rather worried over their absence from the bungalow. She had returned, unsuccessful, from seeing her friends. Freda was recovering from the shock and fright of the day before.
“Where have you been?” Mrs. Lewis asked Cora.
“Oh, just off on a little picnic,” was the answer, and Cora motioned to her chums to say nothing of what they had heard. They had agreed that it would be better for the widow not to know, at least for the present.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” suggested Mrs. Lewis.
“We’ll have it a little late to-day,” replied Cora. “We have had some tea, and I want to go over and see Jack. They haven’t been around here since we left; have they?”
“Oh, yes,” answered Freda. “They were all here, wanting to know where you’d gone; but of course I couldn’t say. Then they went out in your brother’s boat, but they didn’t get far before they had a breakdown.”
“It’s the Lassie’s day off again,” laughed Belle.
“Why didn’t they take the Dixie?” asked Bess.
“Something is the matter with her, too,” replied Freda.
Cora and her chums exchanged meaning glances. The talk of the men was confirmed. Evidently they had their own way of getting information.
“Well, we’ll go over to Camp Couldn’t,” suggested Cora, after a pause. “They’re probably there now.”
They found the boys grouped about, in and out of the tent.
“Here they come!”
“Where have you been, girls?”
“We’ve been lonesome for you!”
“How bright the day seems now, to what it was before!”
Thus chanted Jack, Walter, Ed and Dray Ward, as they saw the advancing girls.
“Oh, stop that nonsense, Jack!” exclaimed Cora, as her brother waltzed forward to do a two-step on the moss with timid Marita.
“Why, what is wrong?”
“Lots!” she exclaimed, and her manner must have impressed Jack, for he grew grave at once.
“Has anything more happened since last night?” he asked.
“There has. We’ve discovered the meanest plot to harm Denny Shane. Listen.”
“We list!” recited Walter, but Cora quieted him with a look.
Then began the telling of the overheard conversation.
“Well, what do you know about that?”
“The nerve of that chap wanting a race!”
“We’ll race him, all right!”
“And so they’re going to do up old Denny, eh?”
“Well, I guess we’ll have a hand in that!”
These were the comments of Jack and his chums.
“Now don’t do anything rash,” begged Cora.
“We’ve got to do something,” insisted Jack.
After some consultation it was agreed that the boys should go over and have a talk with the fisherman, and then, among themselves, they would decide on what was best to be done.
Meanwhile the girls would go back to the bungalow, there to await the report of the boys. Nothing would be said to Mrs. Lewis, for she had had alarm enough.
It was anxious waiting for the girls, and they were so nervous that they did not enjoy the dinner Mrs. Lewis had prepared, at which lack of appetite she wondered much. But she ascribed their distraction, and their rather strange comments, to the alarm of the day before.
Finally the Lassie, which had somehow been induced to “mote,” was descried coming across the bay from the direction of the old fisherman’s cabin.
“Come on, girls!” called Cora as she saw the boys. “We’ll go down and meet them.” She did not want Mrs. Lewis to hear the talk.
“Well, Jack?” asked Cora, as the boat came in.
“Not well—bad,” he said. “Denny wasn’t at home, and no one knew where he had gone. So we left a note for him, and we’ll be on hand to-night.”
“What about us?” asked Bess.
“You’d better stay here,” said Jack. “No telling what sort of a row we may run into, and you’re better at home.”
“I think so, too,” agreed Cora, but the look she gave her chums had more meaning in it than the mere words indicated. Bess and the others understood.
“And now,” went on Jack, “we’ll proceed to find out why the Dixie won’t mote. We want her in shape to-night.”
“That’s right,” assented Dray. “I think it’s the carbureter. I’ll get a man from the garage to look it over.”
“We’ll want a fast boat if the one those fellows have is as speedy as you girls say,” remarked Walter.
“Couldn’t we take the Chelton?” asked Ed.
“The Pickerel beat us to-day,” said Cora. “Besides, it might be good to have her in reserve. Try and have the Dixie fixed up.”
“We will!” promised her owner.
The remainder of the day seemed like a dream to the girls. Never had time passed so slowly. They were waiting for what the night might bring.
The boys made several other trips to the fisherman’s cabin, going afoot through the woods, as the Lassie had again gone on a strike, and a man from the garage was working over the Dixie.
The fisherman’s cabin could be reached in two ways, but the water route was preferred by the young people, even though it was longer.
The boys could not find Denny at home, however, and planned to be at his cabin just at dusk, and to remain there until something happened.
“So we’ll be sure to be there when the men arrive,” said Jack.
Finally twilight came, and with the falling of night the repairs to the Dixie were completed. She seemed to be running better than in some time.
“Well, here we go!” remarked Walter, as the boys took their places in the swift craft. “We’ll let you girls know what happens—as soon as it happens.”
“You’d better!” laughed Cora. “We’ll be very anxious.”
She and her chums had come down to the dock to see the boys leave on their trip to save Denny from an unknown danger.
Then came more anxious waiting.
“Well, he hasn’t come back yet.”
“No. It’s sort of queer, too. I wonder where he can be keeping himself, all day?”
“Maybe those fellows have got to him after all.”
Jack Kimball and his chums, landing at the fisherman’s dock from the Dixie, thus commented when they paid another visit to Denny’s cabin, and found him still absent.
“No, I don’t imagine anything has happened,” said Jack. “You know he often goes off and stays a long time in his boat. He’s got a crazy sort of motor in it, that runs about as often as the one does in the Lassie. He may be stuck somewhere.”
“Or else waiting the turn of the tide,” suggested Ed.
“That’s right,” chimed in Dray. “I’ve heard him say that certain fish won’t bite when the tide’s running out, and that you can catch others only when it’s coming in. Maybe he is hanging around for that.”
“Then he ought to be back soon,” declared Jack, “for the tide turned a half-hour ago.”
“If he’s far out in the bay it will take him a long while to come in. His boat doesn’t make very good time,” observed Walter.
The boys walked around the cabin. It was closed and locked, and the warning note they had left for the fisherman was still pinned to the door.
“Which shows that those men haven’t been here,” said Jack. “That makes me fear that they may have gotten to him before us.”
“Why so?” asked Ed.
“Well, it’s evident that the men haven’t been here since the girls gave us the alarm. If they had they’d have torn up that note. Then, too, you’d think, if they were going to try to make Denny do what they wanted in the way of giving testimony, they’d be getting at it. He goes to bed early, as everybody around here knows, and locks up. If those fellows wanted to get at him without breaking in they’d come early. All of which makes me think that they may already have had a serious interview with him.”
“I hope not,” observed Walter. “I’m more inclined to believe that he’s out on the bay somewhere. If he is he’s all right.”
“Say, fellows, I’ve got an idea!” cried Jack.
“Hold fast to it—they’re scarce,” remarked Ed.
“No, but seriously. Suppose we cruise about a bit. We needn’t go far from the shore, and we can have an eye on the cabin. In case Denny is out on the water we may pick him up. Then we could tell him what was on, and warn him. We could do it even better than on shore here, for there’s no telling but what some of those fellows may be in hiding around here,” and Jack cast a look about. It was dark, but a full moon was coming up to make a light that revealed most objects.
“Then if there is a possibility that someone may be in ambush here,” said Walter, “we’d better keep a bit more mum. But I think Jack’s plan is a good one. Let’s cruise about a bit, but keep within sight of the cabin.”
No one had any objections so, after making a casual search about the cabin, and not finding anyone in hiding, the boys again got aboard the Dixie and started to cruise on the bay, that was now sparkling in the moonlight.
Jack and his chums kept a careful watch for Denny Shane’s boat. There were several motor craft out, for the night was one that invited trips on the water—calm and still, with a gentle breeze that had in it the tang of salt mingled with the sweet odors of Summer.
“I feel just like singing,” remarked Ed, after a pause during which the Dixie cruised about, not too far from the cabin.
“Have some regard for our feelings,” begged Jack. “Remember that we are under a great strain.”
“And Ed would be, too, if he sang,” said Walter. “At least I would feel constrained to remonstrate with him.”
“Huh! Think no one can sing but yourself!” retorted Ed.
“Moonlight always did have a queer effect on him,” remarked Jack.
Round about they cruised, and they were thinking of returning to make sure that Denny had not reached his cabin by some other route, unseen by them, when the motor of the Dixie gave a combined cough, groan and sneeze, and stopped short.
“There she goes!” exclaimed Ed.
“You mean there she doesn’t go!” corrected Walter.
“Get the talcum powder,” suggested Jack.
“I’m sure Dray didn’t use the tooth brush on her before we came out,” spoke Jack, accusingly.
The boys had a way of doing the most absurd things, from a mechanical standpoint, whenever their motors refused to mote. They would dust talcum powder on the cylinder tops, or tie a piece of baby-blue ribbon on the pet-cock when they had exhausted every other means of making a rebellious motor operate.
And the odd part of it was that, often, when they had done these seemingly silly things, the boat would start. So they were rather superstitious about it, and they did carry a tin of talcum powder with them, much to the amusement of the girls.
In turn the usual sources of trouble were looked for and eliminated one after the other.
No wires seemed to have broken, the current was good, the vibrator buzzed when the contact was made and there was plenty of gasoline in the tank.
“Put in a new spark plug,” suggested Jack.
“New ones went in to-day,” answered Dray. “They can’t have sooted already. It isn’t there.”
“Give her a little more air,” proposed Walter. “I think she’s getting too rich a gasoline mixture.”
“I’m not going to touch the carbureter!” declared the young owner of the Dixie. “It was trouble enough to get her fixed before. Hand me that talcum.” Gravely he dusted some on the pump rod.
Then another attempt was made to start the motor, but it only sighed dismally, and refused to do its duty.
“I say!” cried Jack, looking up from where he had been examining the carbureter with an electrical pocket flash, “we’re drifting out to sea!”
“So we are!” agreed Ed. “Say, can’t you get her going?”
“Can’t seem to,” replied Drayton. “I’ll sell this boat and get another as soon as I can. She’s a nuisance!”
“Well, we sure are broken down,” sighed Jack, “and how we are going to get back to the cabin is more than I can figure out.”
“Let’s whistle for help,” suggested Walter.
“Look!” exclaimed Jack, pointing in the direction of shore. “There’s a light in Denny’s cabin!”
They all looked, and saw a flickering gleam of fire near the shack that had been deserted all day.
“Something’s doing!” cried Ed. “And we’re stuck out here!”
“Girls,” declared Cora Kimball, “I can’t stand it any longer! I’ve got to do something—or have nervous prostration.”
“And that’s just the way I feel!” said Bess. “Waiting is the most nervous thing in the world.”
“Have another chocolate,” suggested Lottie, helping herself from the box on a table near her.
“How dare you suggest such a thing?” demanded Bess. “As if I wasn’t trying to do all I could to reduce.”
“Oh, well, I was thinking of your nerves,” observed Lottie.
“But what is it you want to do, Cora, dear?” asked Marita.
“I want to go to Denny’s cabin, and see what has happened,” was the answer.
“What!” cried Belle, with an exclamation of surprise and alarm. “Tramp through the woods at this hour of night?”
“It isn’t any such great, or late, hour of night,” replied Cora, calmly, “and the woods are not dark. There’s a lovely moon. But I don’t propose to go through the woods. What is the Chelton for if we can’t use her?”
“Cora Kimball, do you mean to say that you’d go out on the bay, and over to Denny’s cabin, after dark, with the prospect that some desperate men are going to attack him?” asked Bess.
“The boys are going to be there,” answered Cora, still refusing to become excited. “Besides, they may need our help. We could take a prisoner or two in our boat.”
There was a chorus of screams.
“Cora Kimball—how dare you?” demanded Belle.
“Oh, I meant if he was tied hand and foot,” went on the leader of the motor girls. “Villains are always tied hand and foot, you know. They can’t move. They’re gagged, too. I think I should insist on having our villain gagged. It might happen to be that young man who raced with us to-day, and he might get sarcastic if he could talk. Yes, I think he must be gagged.”
“Oh, Cora, you’re hopeless,” sighed Lottie. “What would my mother say if she could see me now.”
“She’d tell you to stop eating chocolates and come with me,” returned Cora, firmly. “I’m going to the cabin.”
“I—I’ll go with you,” volunteered Marita, and then she blushed at the attention she attracted.
“Well, if Marita isn’t afraid to go, I’m not,” announced Lottie, with spirit. “Come on, Cora.”
“Oh!” gasped Bess.
“Oh, dear!” echoed Belle. “Do we have to stay here all alone?”
“Either that, or come with us,” invited Cora. “I’m going over to the cabin in our boat.”
There was a step at the door of the living room, and Mrs. Lewis looked in.
“Did I hear you girls say you were going out?” she inquired.
“Just for a little trip on the water,” replied Cora, signing to her chums to keep silent. “It is so lovely with the moon, and we won’t go far.”
It was not a great way to Denny’s cabin.
“Well, don’t be gone too long,” cautioned the widow. “You must remember that I am, in a way, responsible for you girls.”
“Oh, we’ll be careful,” Cora promised. “We’d take Freda with us, but perhaps she had better stay with you.”
“Yes, I think so. Besides, she is so nervous after what nearly happened last night, that I’d rather she wouldn’t go out. Oh, if only things were settled! If only we were sure we could get that property back, and not have to worry about it being taken away from us!”
“Have they been annoying you of late?” asked Cora, thinking perhaps there had been some developments of which she was unaware.
“No, nothing special, since that horrid woman. But it is a constant worry to me.”
“It must be,” returned Cora, sympathetically. “Well, we will hope for the best.”
Cora did not say so—even to her chums, but she had great hopes that something might develop from the events of this night. If the unscrupulous men could only be caught in some wrong-doing a hold might be obtained over them that would enable them to be defeated in court. Thus their claim to the property—which claim Cora felt sure was a false one—might be disproved.
That there were papers in existence which would show the widow and her daughter to be the rightful owners Cora did not doubt. Freda’s grandfather, from all accounts, was a careful business man, if eccentric in some ways. He would not have come into possession of property without having the papers to prove his claim. And he was not a man to put them in some safe deposit vault and leave no memorandum as to finding the key.
Perhaps they were concealed in some nook or cranny in the widow’s home. Cora made up her mind to have a search made after this night was over.
Then, too, Denny might be able to come upon them. Eccentric in some ways, as Freda’s grandfather had been, he might have hidden the papers in Denny’s cabin.
That was a new thought. Perhaps the scheming men knew this, and that is why they wanted to attack the old fisherman.
“We simply must go to his cabin,” decided Cora, “and find out what has happened. I can’t wait any longer.”
Wraps were quickly donned, and down to the dock went the girls. The Chelton was in running order, and soon they were out on the moonlit waters of the bay.
“There’s a light in his cabin,” said Cora, as they came out from behind a point, and had a view of the little cove where nestled Denny’s cottage.
“I hope the boys are there,” remarked Bess, “and that they have the villains all tied up and ready for delivery.”
“Ugh!” exclaimed Belle. “If they have I wish they’d send them by parcel post instead of asking us to take charge of them.”
“They’ll be harmless,” guaranteed Cora. “Besides, the Dixie can’t hold more than the boys; our boat is larger.”
“We could let the boys run this one, after the men are tied in her,” suggested Lottie, “and we could come home in the Dixie.”
“Never!” exclaimed Cora. “You can’t rely on her. I’ll stick to the Chelton.”
But if the girls had only known that, at that moment, far out on Crystal Bay, was the ill-fated Dixie, drifting to sea, while the boys tooted hopelessly for aid on the compressed air whistles!
The Chelton made a quick and uneventful trip to the fisherman’s cabin. From it a light peacefully glowed.
“There’s no one here,” announced Bess. “Not even the boys.”
“Be careful,” warned Cora. “It may be a trap. Let us go up softly.”
“But what about those men?” asked Belle. “Maybe they have taken Denny away with them, and the boys, too.”
“Don’t be silly,” advised Cora. “Let’s go up and look in.”
As they peered in the cabin window they saw Denny seated in an easy chair. He was alone, and across his knees was the red oar of which he seemed so fond.