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.
“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.