There had been three delightful days at Camp Cozy. Cora managed most of the delight, with the able assistance of Belle and Bess, while Hazel did much toward discovering things that she declared all the girls ought to know, for Hazel's happiness was ever in obtaining knowledge.
The boys had almost lost hope of getting back their canoe. They had searched the lake from shore to shore, offered rewards and had gone through the rest of the lost formula, but the boat was not returned.
Cora kept to herself her suspicions about Jim Peters. She also said nothing of the ring that was in the purse when it left her hands, but not in it when the purse was returned to her.
It was a splendid morning for a trip on Cedar Lake, and although Belle and Hazel had planned a trip to the woods, Cora and Bess were going out in the Petrel.
Passing Center Landing, Cora called a pleasant good morning to Ben, who sat on the end string piece, his feet aiming at the water and his broad brimmed hat caught on halo fashion at the back of his neck.
"Oh, I must ask him something," said Cora, suddenly turning her boat toward the wharf. She drew near enough to speak quietly.
"Ben," she said, "where is that shanty you told me about—JimPeter's place?"
"Lands sake miss! you ain't goin' there?" asked the man in some alarm.
"Why not?" demanded Cora. "Can't I take care of myself in broad daylight?"
"But you don't know how ugly that feller can be," insisted Ben. "I tell you miss, I'd give him plenty of room, if I war you."
"Don't go," urged Bess.
"But, Ben," argued Cora, "I am afraid you have all let Jim Peters bully you. I am going to try him another way. Where does he live?"
"Well a hour ago he went up the lake. He goes up there every mornin' regular. Like as if he had some important business on the island. When I asked him about it he said there was a fellow who had some dangerous disease, and was campin' out there, and Jim allowed that he had to fetch him things."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Cora. "That's a queer story for a man like Peters. But I'm going to his shack first, even if he is not at home. It would suit me just as well to find him out on my first visit."
"But that young feller who lives with him? He's just as sassy as Jim, when he's around the shack. Of course he don't stay there always, as Jim does."
"Who is he?" questioned Cora. "I hadn't heard of such a person."
"Oh, he gives the name of Jones but it don't fit him fer a cent. I wouldn't be surprised if his real name was Macaroni or even Noodles. He's foreign, sure."
Cora laughed. "And he's young, you say?"
"A lot younger than Jim, but he could be that and yet not be very young, fer I guess Jim has lost track of time," replied Ben. "Yes, Jones is a swell, all right."
"But the shack? Where is it? I must be off," insisted Cora.
"It's quite a trip down the lake. Then you come to a point. Go to the left of the point, and when you come to a place where the willows dip into the lake, get off there. The shack is straight back in the deepest clump of buttonball trees."
"All right Ben, and thank you," said Cora as she started up the motor. "I feel like exploring this morning, and your directions sound interesting. I will come back this way to show you that I am safe and sound," and with that she sheered off.
"I hope it will be all right," faltered Bess. "Cora, are you never afraid to risk such things?"
"What is there to risk? The land is public, and we have as much right to follow that track as has Jim Peters or Mr. Jones. I wonder what Mr. Jones is like?"
"Maybe he would be very nice—a complete surprise," ventured Bess, at which remark Cora laughed merrily.
"You little romancer! Do you imagine that anyone very nice would chum in with Jim Peters? Isn't there something in your book about birds of the same quills?"
"It's aigrettes, in my book," retorted Bess. "But it all applies to the same sort of birds. Just the same, I am interested in Mr. Jones."
"I fancy perhaps that we are," said Cora. "But there is the pointBen spoke of. We are to turn to the left."
Gracefully as a human thing, the boat curved around and made its path through the narrow part of the lake.
"And there are the willows," announced Bess, as she saw the great green giants dipped into the water's surface.
"Yes. I thought it would be much farther on. But this is an ideal spot for hiding. One could scarcely be found here without a megaphone."
"Hear our voices echo," remarked Bess. "An echo always makes me feel desolate."
"Don't you like to hear your own voice?" asked Cora lightly. "I rather fancy listening to mine. An echo was always a delight to me."
"There's a man sitting under that tree!" almost gasped Bess.
"So there is, and I am glad of it. He will be able to direct us. I shouldn't be surprised if he were Mr. Jones," said Cora turning the Petrel to shore.
Under a big willow, in a sort of natural basket seat, formed by the uncovered roots of the big trees, a man sat, and as the boat grazed the shore, he looked up from some papers he held in his hands. Cora could see that he was very dark, and had that almost uncomfortable manner of affecting extreme politeness peculiar to foreigners of certain classes, for, as she spoke to him, he arose, slid the paper into his pocket, and bowed most profusely.
"I am looking for the cabin of Mr. Peters," said Cora, stepping ashore toward the tree. "Can you direct me to it?"
"The cabin of Mr. Peters?" and when the man spoke the foreign suspicion was confirmed. "Why, who might Mr. Peters be?"
"Jim Peters; don't you know him?" asked Cora determined not to be thrown off the track. "He lives just in here—I should think in that grove—"
"Oh, my dear miss no! You are mistaken. No one lives around here.I am simply a rustic, looking about. But Jim Peters?"
"Are you not Mr. Jones?" blurted out Cora.
In spite of himself the man started.
"Mr. Jones?" he repeated. "Well, that name will do as well as any other. But allow me to tie your boat. Then I will take pleasure in showing you one of the prettiest strips of land this side of Naples."
"Oh, thank you. I have secured it," said Cora. "But I would like to explore this island."
Bess tugged at Cora's elbow. "Don't go too far. I am afraid of that man," she said in a whisper.
"Were you drawing as we came up?" Cora asked the stranger. "This is an ideal spot for sketching."
"Yes, I was drawing," he replied.
"Couldn't we see your picture?" asked Cora. "I do so love an outline."
"Oh, indeed it is not worth looking at. I must show you something when I have what will be worth while. This is only a bare idea."
"Well," said Cora starting off through the wood, "I must look for a cabin, or something like it. I have particular business with Jim Peters."
"But you will only hurt your feet miss," objected the man. "Allow me to show you the island," and he bowed again. "Such wild swamp flowers I have never seen. It is the everglades, and well worth the short journey."
There was something about his insistent civility that betokened a set purpose, and since Ben (what a wonder Ben was) had told Cora that a man named Jones "hung out" with Jim Peters, Cora instantly guessed that this was the man, and that he was determined to keep her away from the shack. The situation gave zest to her purpose. Bess was fairly quaking as Cora could see, but what danger could there be in insisting upon finding that shack?
"I have only a short time to be out," objected Cora, "and perhaps some other time I will come to see your everglade. Come, Bess, I see a path this way, and I fancy if we follow it we will find an end to the path," she concluded.
"But may I not have the pleasure of your name?" the man called after her. "Perhaps we might meet—"
"Don't," whispered Bess. "Pretend you did not hear him."
"Oh, just see those flag lilies!" Cora called to Bess, covering the man's question without answering it. "Let us get some."
"Oh, aren't they beautiful!" replied Bess, in a strained voice. "I certainly must secure some of those."
They hurried away from the dark-browed man. He took his hand out of his pocket and upon the smallest finger his eyes rested. He sneered as he looked at a diamond ring that glittered on that slim brown finger.
"Foolish maid," he said aloud, and then the web of a strange force threw its invisible yet unbreakable chains over the summer life of Cora Kimball.
"Cora, dear, please do not go any farther. Somehow I am afraid that man will follow us."
"Why, Bess! I thought you were going to be interested in Mr. Jones," and Cora stooped to pick up a wonderful clump of flag lilies.
"Jones! How could he be a Jones? He's a Spaniard."
"I thought so myself, Bess. But we do not have to plant his family tree. Now don't be a baby, girlie," and Cora squeezed the plump hand that hung so close to her own. "Let us get to the shack, and see if the boys' boat is about there. I am determined to run down Jim Peters."
Bess sighed. When Cora was determined! But the man had left the water's edge.
"Cora, see!" said Bess. "He is getting into a boat!"
"Yes and the boat belongs to Peters. There! He is surely the one who helps Jim out in all his affairs. Now we may seek the shack in safety," said Cora, as she watched the man at the water's edge push off. "I know the shack is over there, for I smell smoke in that direction. But we will turn the other way until he has cleared off," finished Cora as she and Bess stepped lightly over the dainty ferns that nestled in the damp earth.
"He is quite a boatman," remarked Bess, watching the man ply his oars, and make rapid progress up the lake.
"Yes, he must have been brought up near the water," replied Cora. "They say such skill as that is not accomplished on dry land. Jack always declared he could tell a fellow at college who had ever been near the water when a lad. They take to it like a duck."
"You can easily see that he is a foreigner," went on Bess with her speculations. "He must either be an Italian or a Spaniard."
"Now we may turn up the path. Yes this is a path, for everything is trodden down on it," declared Cora. "I hope the hut will not be too deep in the wood."
"We won't go if it is," objected Bess. "I don't fancy being taken captive by any wild woods clan."
"There," exclaimed Cora. "I just caught sight—of—it's a woman's skirt!"
"Yes, and there is a woman in it," added Bess. "See, here she comes."
"No, I don't think she does. I think she is standing still. We must have frightened her."
"What a looking—woman!"
"Great proportions," described Cora. "I guess wherever she lives they must feed her well."
Cora led the way, and Bess timidly followed.
"Don't go too near," whispered the latter.
"Why, she cannot eat us," replied Cora, smiling over her shoulder to the timid one.
"Well, what do you want?" roared the woman, as soon as she could be heard by the young ladies.
"We are looking for Jim Peter's shack," replied Cora bravely. "I have been sent here to speak with him."
"Have, eh? Well go ahead. Speak with me. I'm Mrs. Jim Peters," said the woman with a sneer.
"My business is with him," again spoke Cora, not in the least frightened by the voice which she knew was made coarser just to scare her.
"Well, he don't have no business that ain't mine," said the woman, "'specially with young 'uns like you, so you kin just clear off here before I—"
"Come on Cora," begged Bess. "I am shaking from head to foot."
"All right, dear," replied Cora, in a voice for Bess alone. "But,Mrs. Peters, can you tell me when your husband will be about here?I have some work to do on a boat and I understand he does that sortof thing."
The woman's face changed. "If that's what you want I'll tell him. You see it is always best to let the woman know first, fer Jim does do some foolish things. But just now he's got one boat to do?"
"I wonder if he might have a canoe to sell?" interrupted Cora, as the thought of thus trapping the woman occurred to her.
"He will have one in a few days," the other 'answered. "But it has to be fixed up."
"Could I see it?" asked Cora. "I may not be able to get over here again."
"Well, the shack is locked and I couldn't show it to you, but whenJim comes I'll tell him. Who will I say?"
Cora hesitated. "I hardly think it will be worth while really to order it," she said, "as I must have my brother look it over. I have a motor boat."
"I heard it chuggin' and I thought that lazy Tony had got a new way of wastin' his time. Tony is all right at writin' letters but he's a lazy bones else ways."
"Who's Tony?" asked Cora as if indifferently.
"He's Jim's side partner. Say, girl, I'll just tell you. I came up here a few weeks ago from a newspaper advertisement. I never knowed Jim Peters before, but if them two fellers think I'm goin' to cook in that hut and never go no place off this dock they're foolin' themselves. They don't know all about Kate Simpson."
Both girls were utterly surprised by her change of manner. Cora was quick to take advantage of it.
"You are quite right," she said. "This is no place for a lone woman, and some day when I have my brother along I will fetch my boat, and show you the big islands about here. It would do you good to get out in the clear—away from these dense woods."
"That it would, and I'm obliged to you miss," said the woman while Bess fairly gasped. "I want to go to one island—Fern Island they call it. Have you ever been there?"
"I know where it is," replied Cora, wondering what the woman's interest in that place might be. "I have been all around it."
"They say it's haunted," and the woman laughed. "It's a great game to put a haunt on a place to keep others off."
"Well, some day when you can leave your work, I'll take you over there," and Cora meant it, for she had not the slightest fear, either of the woman or her rough ways.
Besides, she felt instinctively that the woman's help would be valuable in the possible recovery of her ring and of the lost canoe.
"I'll be goin' back to the shackt fer if Jim comes along held raise a row fer me talkin' to strangers. You'd think I was looney the way he watches me."
"And is he a stranger to you?"
"Well, to tell the truth my mother and Jim's was cousins, but I never knowed him to be such a poor character as he is, or I'd never have come up here. But I don't have to stay all summer,"' she finished significantly.
"Well, good-bye, and I'll see you soon again," said Cora turning toward her boat.
"Good-bye, miss, but say," and she half whispered, "is that girl dumb?"
Cora burst out laughing. Bess a mute!
"No indeed, but she always lets me do the talking," answered Cora with a sty look at the blushing Bess.
"She has good sense, fer you know how to do it," declared KateSimpson.
They could hear her bend the brush as she passed up the narrow way.
"What a queer creature," remarked Bess, when she felt that it was safe to try her voice.
"She is queer, but I think she knows a lot about things of interest to us. What did you think of her remark about Fern Island? To that pretty little spot we will make our next voyage," declared Cora, pulling on her thick gloves and taking her place in front of the motor. "Turn out into the open lake," she told Bess as they started off. "We will make a quick run and get back to the bungalow before the others have done the marketing. I am glad it is not our turn to get the lunch for I want to make a trip to Fern Island directly after we have had a bite. Seems to me," and she increased the speed of the engine a little, "it takes more time to get a meal at camp than it does at home. The simple life certainly has its own peculiar complications."
"Oh, there comes that man back! I am so glad we are away from that place," exclaimed Bess, as the boat of Jim Peters, with the smiling foreigner called "Jones" floated by.
The four motor girls started out in the Petrel. Never had the lake seemed so beautiful, nor had the sky appeared a deeper, truer blue. The pretty Placid lake was dotted all over with summer craft, the sound of the motor boat being almost constant in its echoing, "cut-a-cuta" against the wonderful green hills that banked shore and, island.
Hazel was steering, and of course Cora was running the engine. The pennant waved gaily from the bow of the boat, and of the many colors afloat it seemed that those chosen by the motor girls shone out most brilliantly on the glistening, silvery waters.
"I'm not a bit afraid now," admitted Belle, "I do think it is all a matter of getting used to the water. I thought I should never breathe again after that first day we went out."
"Yes," said Cora, "the water has a peculiar fascination when one is accustomed to it, and I am sure Belle will want to live on a houseboat before we break camp. There go the boys! What a fine motor boat!"
"Yes," said Hazel, "that's one from Paul's garage. Paul promised Jack he would speak to Mr. Breslin, the owner, about letting it out for the summer, as the Breslin family is not coming out here until later. It's the Peter-Pan, and the fastest boat on the lake."
"See them go! I guess they don't see us,"' remarked Belle.
"I am glad they do not," Cora said, "for I want to do some exploring, and if the boys came along they would be sure to have other plans for us. Now, Hazel, run in there. That is Fern Island."
"Oh, there's a canoe!" exclaimed Belle. "See! and a girl is paddling. What a queer looking girl!"
"Isn't she!" agreed Bess. "Why she has on a man's hat!"
"She sees that we are watching her. Look how she is hurrying off," remarked Cora. "I wonder how far this cove goes in?"
"We had better not try to find out," cautioned Belle. "I think we have had enough of happenings around here. This is where the boy's boat was stolen from; isn't it?"
"No, it was over there, but I guess we will put in at the front of the island, as there is no telling how deep the cove is," said Cora. "But see that girl go! Why she's actually gone! Where can she have disappeared to?"
"This ought to be called the 'disappearing' land," suggested Hazel. "I was sure that little canoe was directly in front of us, but now it is out of sight."
"Maybe that is the 'Haunt Girl of Fern Island,'" ventured Cora with a laugh. "I got a pretty good look at her, and I am willing to say she looked neither like a summer girl nor a winter girl—that is, one who might live here the year around. But just what sort of girl she might be I shouldn't like to speculate. Her hair got loose as she hurried, and she reminded me of some wild water bird."
"Be careful getting out," Belle cautioned Bess. "This new boat is new to slipperiness."
"Oh, I will get hold of a tree branch," Bess replied. "Then, if the boat drifts out, I can swing to safety."
All were ashore but Bess, and as such things often happen when they are looked for, the Petrel did careen from the waves of a passing launch, and just as Bess grasped an overhead willow branch, the boat swung out and she sprang in. Everybody laughed, but Bess lost her breath, a condition she disliked because it always added to the deep color of her plump cheeks.
"There!" cried Belle. "Didn't I tell you?"
"I wish that next time, Twin, you would leave me to guess!" exclaimed the other twin, rather pettishly.
"Isn't this perfectly delightful!" exclaimed Hazel, running over the soft earth where ferns were matted, and wild flowers grew tangled in their efforts for freedom. "I never saw such dainty little flowers! Oh! they are sabatial I have seen them in Massachusetts," and she fell to gathering the small pink blooms that rival the wild rose in shade and perfume.
"Here are the Maiden Hair ferns," called Cora. "No wonder they call this Fern Island."
"Let us see how many varieties of fern we can gather," suggested Belle. "I have ferns pressed since last year, and they look so pretty on picture mats."
At this the girls became interested in the number of ferns gatherable. Belle went one way, Bess another, and so on, until each had to call to make another hear her.
Cora ran along fearlessly. She was diving very deep into the ferny woods, and she was intent on coming out first, if it were only in a race to get ferns.
Suddenly she stopped!
What was that sound?
Surely it was some one running, and it was none of the girls!
Standing erect, listening with her nerves as well as with her ears, Cora waited. That running or rustling through the leaves was very close by. Should she call the girls?
But before she could answer herself, she saw something dart across a big rock that was caressed by a great maple tree that grew over it.
"Oh!" she screamed involuntarily. Then she saw what it was. A man, a wild looking man, with long hair and a bushy beard.
He had stopped just long enough to look in the direction of Cora.She saw him distinctly. Oh! if he should run toward Bess or Belle!Hazel would not be so easily alarmed but surely this was a wild manif ever there was such a creature.
"That is the ghost of Fern Island," Cora concluded. "I must get back to the girls."
She turned and hurried in the direction from which she had heard voices. "If they have not seen him," she reflected, "I will not say anything until we get back to camp."
"I have ten different kinds of ferns," suddenly called Belle, in a voice which plainly said that no wild man had crossed her path.
"I've got eight," said Hazel. "How many have you, Cora?"
Cora glanced at her empty hands. She had dropped her ferns.
"I have tossed away mine. I was afraid of black spiders," she said evasively.
"Isn't that too bad," wailed Bess, "and none of us picked any maiden hair because we thought you had it. Let us go and get some."
"Oh, I think we had best not this time," said Cora quickly. "I really want to get to the post office landing before the mail goes out. We can come another time when I have something to kill spiders with. I never saw such huge black fellows as there are around here." This was no shading of the truth, for indeed the spiders around Cedar Lake did grow like 'turtles', Jack had declared.
"Oh, all right," agreed Belle. "But this is the most delightful island and I am coming out here again. I hope the boys will come along, for there are such great bushes of huckleberries over there that we simply couldn't climb to them alone."'
"We will invite them next time," said Cora, and when she turned over the fly wheel of her boat her hands that had held the ferns were still trembling. She looked uneasily at the shore as they darted off.
"What's the matter, Cora?" asked Hazel. "You look as if you had seen the ghost of Fern Island."
"I have," said Cora, but the girls thought she had only agreed withHazel to avoid disagreeing.
"What boat is that?" asked Bess a moment later, looking at a small rowing craft just leaving the other side of the island.
"It's Jim Peters'" replied Cora, "we were lucky to get back into ours before he saw it. I wouldn't wonder but what he might like to take a motor boat ride in the Petrel."
"Do you suppose he really would steal a boat?" exclaimed Belle.
"He might like to try a motor, I said," replied Cora. "They say that Jim Peters tries everything on Cedar Lake, even to running a shooting gallery. But see! He is reading a letter! Where ever did he get a letter on this barren island?"
"Maybe he carries the mail for the ghost," said Hazel, with a laugh.
"Cora, where is your ring?"
The sister looked at her finger. "Oh Jack," she replied, "I will get it—but not just now. Why?"
"I thought you always wore that ring when you put on your frills, and I haven't seen you so dressed up since you came to camp. Somehow, Cora, I feared you might have lost it."
"I did," she said simply.
"Your new diamond!"
"Yes, but I feel sure of finding it. Now, Jackie dear, please don't cross question me. I shouldn't have taken it off, but I did, so and that is how I came to lose it. But I want to tell you something while we are alone. I saw the ghost of Fern Island to-day."
"Nonsense! A ghost?" sneered Jack. "Why, Cora, if the other girls said that I should laugh at them."
"Well I want to tell you. We were on the island-the girls and I—and I got a little away from them when suddenly the wildest looking man rushed across the path. He had a beard like Rip Van Winkle and looked a lot like him too."
"Rip might be summering out this way, though I rather thought he had taken a trip in an airship," said Jack. "But honestly, Cora, what was the man like? Paul had a story of that sort. He declares he, too, saw this famous ghost."
"Do you suppose he might have taken the canoe? The wild man I mean. We saw a strange looking girl in a canoe and somehow she vanished. We could see her boat and then we couldn't, although we could not make out where she went to. It was the queerest thing. There must be some strange curves on those islands."
"Oh there are, lots of them. They are as curvy as a ball-twirler's best pitch. But the ghost. That is what interests me, since—ahem—since he has a daughter. Was she pretty?"
"I should say she was rather pretty," replied Cora, quite seriously, "but she did have a wild look too. I do believe she is a daughter to the wild man, whoever he may be."
"Well, everyone around here declares that is land is haunted, but fisher-folk are always so superstitious. Yet we must hunt it up. I will go out with you the next time you go. Did the other girls see him?" went on the brother.
"No, and I decided not to tell them. You know how timid Bess and Belle are, and if they thought there was such a creature about the island I would never get them to put foot on shore there again, and I do so want to investigate that matter. I believe Jim Peters has something to do with it for I saw him coming away from there with a letter. Now what would he be doing with a letter out on a barren island?"
"Oh Jim is a foxy one. I wouldn't trust him as far as the end of my nose. But here come the others. Will you go over to the Casino this evening."
"Yes, we had planned to go. That is why I am dressed up. Hazel may have to go to town to-morrow, and I want her to see something before she goes," replied Cora, just as the girls, and Walter, Ed and Paul strode up to the bungalow.
"Oh! we have had the greatest time," blurted out Bess. "Cora, you should have been with us. Ben got angry with Jim Peters, and he and Dan threatened to throw Jim overboard, and—"
"Jim seems to have a hankering after fights," put in Ed. "I haven't settled with him yet."
"Ed, you promised me you would call that off," Cora reminded him. "You know it was all about me, and you have given me your promise not to take it up again. That Jim Peters is an ugly man."
"All the same we heard that you were not afraid of him," said Walter with a tug at Cora's elbow. "Didn't you beard the lion in his den?"
"Who said I did?" asked Cora flushing.
"I promised—crossed my heart not to tell," said Walter. "But all the same the folks at the landing are talking about the pretty girl who went all the way up the cove, and stopped at the place where Peters and his pal land. I would advise you to be careful. They say that tribe is not of the best social standing," went on Walter quite seriously.
"I won't go there again," put in Bess.
"What! Were you along?" demanded Jack. "Then you must have been the pretty girl referred to at the landing."
"I was a pretty scared girl," declared Bess. "I tell you, I don't want to meet any more Peters or Joneses or Kates," she finished.
"But what was the trouble between Jim and Ben?" asked Cora.
"Let me tell it," Belle exclaimed. "We were just standing by the boathouse, watching some men fish, when Jim Peters, came along. He stopped and took a paper out of his pocket. The wind suddenly blew up—"
"And took the paper out of his hand," interrupted Hazel. "It blew across to where Dan was standing, and what was more natural than that Dan should pick it up?"
"And did Jim get angry at that?" inquired Cora.
"Angry! He fairly fell upon poor Dan," put in Walter, "and when Ben saw him—I tell you Ben may stand a lot of trouble on his own account, but, when it comes to anyone trying to do Dan, Ben is right there to fight for him. Didn't he almost put Jim over the rail?"
"There must have been quite a lively time," said Jack. "Sorry I missed it. There is so little excitement around here that we need all we can get. And what was the answer?"
"Jim took his old letter and slunk off," finished Belle. "And Dan said he couldn't have read even the name on the out side if he had tried. He said it must have been written in Greek," and Belle laughed at the idea of the classics getting mixed up in any such small affair.
"Seems to me," said Cora thoughtfully, "that Jim had some very important reason for fearing that one might see that letter."
"Yes," declared Hazel, "that struck me right away. I shouldn't be surprised if it had been addressed to—the ghost!"
"Well, if you young ladies intend to see what is going on at theCasino this evening," Ed reminded them, "we had better make a start.This is amateur night, I believe."
"And the Blake girls are going to sing," announced Jack. "Then I shall have a chance to clap my hands at pretty Mabel," and he went, through one of those inimitable boys' pranks, neither funny nor tragic, but just descriptive.
"I think it is awfully nice of the Blake girls to take part," said Cora, "for in this little summer colony everyone ought to be agreeable."
"But I notice you are not taking part," Ed said with a laugh. "Just fancy Cora Kimball on the Casino platform."
"Don't fancy anything of the kind," objected Bess. "We are willing to be sociable but we have no ambition to shine."
"Come along," called Jack, who was on ahead with Hazel, "and mind, if anything brushes up against you, it is apt to be a coon, not a cat, as Belle thought the other night."
They started off for the path that led to the public pavilion on the lake shore. Cora was with Ed, Walter had Belle on one side and Bess on the other, because he declared that the twins should always go together to "balance" him. Jack and Hazel led the way.
At the pavilion the seats were almost all occupied, for campers from all sides of the lake flocked there on the entertainment evenings. A band was dreaming over some tune, each musician evidently being his own leader.
The elder Miss Blake, Jeannette, who sat on an end seat, arose as they entered and made room for the Chelton folks to sit beside her, meanwhile gushing over the prospect of the evening's good time, and the good luck of "meeting girls from home."
Walter allowed Bess and Belle to pass to the chairs beyond Miss Blake and thus placed himself beside the not any too desirable spinster.
He made a wry face aside to Jack. He liked girls but the elder MissBlake!
"Mabel is going to sing 'Dreams,'" she said sweetly. "I do loveMabel's voice in 'Dreams.'"
"Yes, I think I should too," said Walter, but the joke was lost onJeannette. "Who is that dark man over there?" he asked.
"Oh that's a foreigner. They call him Jones, but that's because his name is so unpronounceable. Isn't he handsome?" asked the lady.
"Rather odd looking I should say," returned Walter, "but it seems to me he is attracted in this direction. Why should he stare over this way so?"
"He knows me," replied Miss Blake, bowing vigorously to "Jones" who was almost turned around in his chair in his determination to see the Chelton party.
"He's mighty rude, I think," Walter complained again, leaning over to speak to Cora who was just beyond Bess. "Do you feel the draft from that window, Cora?" he asked.
"Oh I—" then she stopped. Something in Walter's voice told her that it was not the window draft he was referring to. She glanced across the room, and her eyes fell upon the man she had met at Jim Peter's landing place.
"I think those seats over there—up near the stage are much pleasanter," said Jack, who also saw that something was wrong. "Suppose we change?"
"All right" assented Cora, taking the cue. "There are just four."
"I will stay here with Hazel, while you and Wallie go over there with the girls," suggested Jack. "And say Wallie," he whispered, "if I catch you fanning that young lady in the row ahead I'll—duck you on the way home."
Walter apologized profusely for leaving Miss Blake. She evidently was sorry that the window had been open for she was "so enjoying talking of dear old Chelton." The place had only been thus mentioned by herself.
"Who is that dark man?" Hazel inquired of Jack, for, as if his eyes were magnets, every girl in the group felt they were riveted upon her.
"I don't know," replied Jack, "but he seems to be very much interested in someone here. There, he is watching Cora. I wonder who the fellow is?"
The curtain rising interrupted the speculation. A man cushioned like a cozy corner laughed at himself while waiting for his audience to do so. Then he gave a yell and started to sing a ridiculous song about the milkmaid and the summer boarder. When he had finished one verse he took another "fit" of laughter, but somehow the audience did not see it his way, and when he tried it again, he broke off with an explanation. He felt sure that the people did not quite understand the joke, and he tried to tell them how very funny it was. To relieve the situation another person came on. One side of the figure was draped in the evening garb of a lady, while the other wore the full dress suit of a gentleman. The illusion was not at all bad, especially when the "person" waltzed with himself, with his arms around the other side of the evening dress the effect was really funny.
"That's Spencer," declared Jack to Hazel. "He did that at college.Isn't it great?"
"Very funny," admitted Hazel, while the man made in halves bowed on one side first, then on the other, to his applause.
"Mabel is going to sing now," announced Miss Blake getting a firmer hold on her chair. "I just love to hear Mabel sing."
Jack said he did also, then outside the dropped curtain steppedMabel.
She was pretty, a little thing with brown eyes and brown hair. She wore the most babyish dress made in empire, and it was evident she knew something about making up for good effect on the stage.
Applause instantly greeted Mabel, and Jack was not the one who first tired of clapping his hands. This pleased Miss Jeannette immensely, and she did not fail to express her pleasure to those about her.
The dark man in the seat across the aisle glanced first at the stage and then at the seat where the elderly lady sat. Jack was watching him, and noted his peculiar glances. Presently Mabel started to sing. Her voice was sweet, and her stage manners attractive.
"Isn't she lovely!" exclaimed Bess to Ed. "I do believe she is studying for the stage."
"Shouldn't wonder," replied the young man under his breath. Then the girl finished the song and bowed with such pretty piquancy that everybody demanded more of her talent.
Jack was still watching the dark man. As the girl left the platform the latter left his seat and went outside of the pavilion.
Presently a messenger tapped Miss Blake on the shoulder, "Your niece wishes to speak to you," the boy said, and at that Jeanette Blake also left her seat and the room.
"Something mysterious about that," said Jack to Hazel, "and I propose seeing it out if I can. I will take you over to the others, and run outside."
Just as he said that, a boy appeared on the platform and announced that owing to an important message Miss Blake was obliged to leave the hall and could not accommodate with her second number, but that some one else would try to fill her place.
A murmur of dissent arose from the audience.
"How could she get an important message here," Cora asked Ed."Where in the world could it come from?"
Jack pushed a chair for Hazel in line with the others.
"I am going outside for a moment," he said. "Take care of the girls until I come back."
"All right," agreed the other young men.
"But don't run after Mabel," put in Walter with a laugh.
But that was exactly what Jack Kimball did.
Cora, healthy though she was, did not sleep well that night. Jack did not return to the hall, and had left word with the doorkeeper that he could not get back in time to see his sister but would run up from his bungalow early the next morning. It was early now, and next morning, but Jack had not kept his word.
No one but Cora and Hazel had any idea that this might mean anything important.
"It was so strange, the way that man acted," said Hazel to Cora, as the two made their way to the spring for fresh water. "First he watched you, then when Mabel Blake appeared he kept his eye on her. And such eyes! I believe he could hypnotize any one."
"I hope he did not hypnotize Mabel," replied Cora.
"Or Jack," added Hazel.
"No fear of the latter," declared the sister. "Jack is too level-headed to take any cue in that direction."
"That's just the way I feel about Paul," spoke Hazel. "Isn't it lovely to have such splendid brothers?"
"Nothing could be more satisfactory," declared Cora, "unless it would be having a sister besides. I have often wondered what I should have done if I had not had such splendid girl friends. Do you feel as if a sister would have made your life more complete?"
"I have never thought of it," said Hazel.
"But Cora! Look at that woman!"
Almost creeping through the tall grass the form of a woman could be distinguished. She had evidently come from a boat that was lying along shore—a rowboat. Seeing the girls, the woman stood up.
"It's Kate Simpson!" exclaimed Cora, "and she seems to be looking for our camp!"
"Miss!" called the woman, her voice shaking. "Wait, wait for poorKate! Oh! I'm droppin' down!"
"What is it, Kate?" asked Cora kindly. "You seem exhausted."
"Oh, indeed I am that," replied the woman, brushing the straggling hair from her forehead. "I am all but dead!"
"What has happened?" asked Cora further.
"I can't tell you here. They might find me, and they'd know the boat."
"We can hide the boat in the bushes, and you may come up to the camp," suggested Cora. "That boat is not hard to lift."
"If you only could, but I'm too done up to help," faltered the woman.
Cora and Hazel easily shifted the light canoe up into the deep grass. Kate got on her feet again, and, following the girls, all made their way to a spot entirely closed in with heavy hemlock trees.
"We may talk here," suggested Cora. "This is what we call our annex—the annex to our camp."
"It's better than the shack I've been living in," murmured the woman. "I'm done with that. Here," and she slipped her hand in her dress, carefully taking from a patched place in her skirt a small article. "This is yours—I know it!"
"My ring!"
Cora's eyes sparkled akin to the gem at which she was gazing. Hazel looked on dumbfounded.
"Yes, it's your ring, but don't ask me how I got it," said Kate, "though I'm pretty sure you can guess."
"I knew who had it, and I felt I would get it back," Cora replied, "but I never dreamed how I might recover it. Mother gave it to me on my last birthday."
"Well I'll tell you this much, miss," and Kate Simpson glanced furtively around her, to make sure that no one might be approaching. "If there ever was two bigger villains than Jim Peters and Tony whatever-his-other-name-is-if-he's-got one, then I never heard tell of them. They're up to some new trick every day and another new one every night. But the worst—"
She seemed afraid to go on. Evidently even a woman so used to hardship as this one could be frightened.
"The worst?" asked Cora.
"Is the one that goes on at Fern Island," almost whispered the strange creature.
"Goes on?" exclaimed Hazel, who had hitherto been silent, too interested to interrupt.
"Yes, miss, it goes on, and it will go on I'm afraid while them villains live."
There was a shout from the camp. The others were looking for Hazel and Cora. The familiar yodel was sent back, then Cora told Hazel:
"You run over, Hazel, and do something to interest them, while I take Kate up the back way. I want to get her some of those things the last maid left, and I want to refresh her a little."
"But I couldn't wait, dear," sighed Kate. "If I don't get a train or boat away from this place soon, they'll be sure to catch me."
"But you have done nothing wrong! Why shouldn't you go or come as you want to?" asked Cora.
"I can't tell you, miss, but them men seem to have some power and I want to get away from it. Where might I find a train or a boat?"
"If you have to go, I'll take you to the landing in my motor boat," replied Cora. "It has a canopy and you will not be seen on the water."
"If you could. I'd be very thankful. You see I'm not much used to the water, and rowing over from the shack nearly did me up."
"But I want to give you something for getting me my ring," insistedCora. "It is quite valuable, you know."
"I heard them say so, and now that the other girl is gone I'll tell you this much. Never you go over to that shack again," and the woman raised a warning finger. "It was a good thing you met me instead of Jim Peters the day you did go over. They'll be like tigers when they find I've got the ring. It was last night that gave me the chance. They had been out very late, and Tony didn't have any letters to copy so he fell asleep and—and I slipped away with it. I slept a bit under a tree, but indeed I was glad to see daylight."
"And you have been out all night? You must not think of taking a journey without first having something to eat. If you are afraid to come up to camp I'll have something put in the boat for you," declared Cora. "But let me ask you, did you overhear anything about a girl named Miss Blake? I saw Jones leave a hall where she was singing last night, and I suspect he met her as she went out. My brother followed, but I have not seen him since. He stops at the boys' camp," Cora explained.
"Blake? So that was the pretty girl who sang. Well, she had better be careful that she doesn't join the ghosts at Fern Island," said the woman, mysteriously.
"I know the girl. She's from my home place. And that is why my brother went to see that nothing happened to her," Cora said.
"Well, you are good people, one can see that," declared Kate. "But wait. I can't read much, but I picked this up to wrap the ring in."
She handed Cora a soiled and crumpled telegram blank. Upon it was made out, in message form, these words:
"Can place your friend at twenty-five week. Answer at once."BENEDICT.
Cora pondered for a moment. "Who could have sent Jones such a message?" she asked.
"Sent it?" repeated Kate. "He sends his own messages. He can copy any handwriting. I heard him say the trick worked," she finished.
The truth flashed into Cora's mind. That man somehow knew the Blakes. He was pretending to place little vain Mabel with some theatrical company. When he left the Casino it was to show her the bogus message. And Jack must have been somewhere around within hearing distance. Surely things were getting complicated and mysterious in the summer colony. But Cora had her ring back, and for the rest she felt certain that the "ghost" of Fern Island, also the wild looking girl of whom they had gotten a glimpse, were in some way being wronged by Jim Peters and his associate, the handwriting expert.
"Of course we will enter," declared Cora. "I know my boat and I think it is as good as any little motor craft on the water."
"But suppose we should get stuck away out in the lake," objectedBess. "Then what would we do?"
The girls and boys were talking together a few days after Cora had helped mysterious Kate to get away, and had entered the water contest.
"There would be plenty of boats to give us a tow," replied Cora, "but I have not the slightest idea of getting stuck. My engine works splendidly."
She found an opportunity to whisper to her brother: "What about MissBlake?"
"I'll tell you later, sis," he whispered back. "It isn't very important. Don't ask me now," and then he went on fussing over the engine and oil cups.
"If we only had our canoe," wailed Jack.
"That was different from any boat I have seen here. It was builton racing lines. Funny what became of it."
"Funny?" repeated Ed. "Tragic I think!" and he gave his sleeves another upward turn just to be doing something.
"Deplorable," added Walter. "I think I looked just sweet in that canoe. Don't you, Hazel?"
"Well, when I saw you—you did," she admitted, "but three boys in a canoe are not quite as attractive—"
"As one girl and one boy," he put in. "Well, that is my own opinion, but Jack and Ed are so inartistic. I never can get them to see things my way."
"We will race in the Peter Pan," Ed announced. "Of course she cannot be beaten. But it is not half as much fun to depend upon an engine as to rely upon muscle. The canoe for me."
"But the glory!" exclaimed Belle. "That boat is beautiful."
"The boat is! Look at us," and Jack stood almost on his head."Boats are all right, but in the beauty class we come first."
"What time do they start?" Cora inquired. "I've forgotten."
"Motors at three, smaller craft earlier. I am going over to the Point to see the hand-boats," said Jack. "Of course everybody is interested in them."
"Then girls," advised Cora, "get ready. We will have an early lunch, and go out for the afternoon. Perhaps we will bring the cup back."
"Lucky if you bring your boat back," Jack cautioned. "Don't you want me to look the engine over, Cora?"
"No, indeed. That would be a dangerous thing to do, for I now have every part clear. I have put on a bigger oil cup, have had the water circulation increased so the engine can not heat so, I have had a throttle control put up at the steering wheel so that I can slow down from there, and I tell you, Jackie, I have worked out the secrets of that engine until there are no more."
"I should say you had, sis. I never knew there were so many attachments. Well, I know I can depend upon you to keep up the honor of the Kimball family. Come along fellows. Let's see that the Peter Pan is not done by the 'Peter Petrel.' I noticed she was puffing out a lot of oil this morning as we came over."
"Then," said Cora, "you want to be careful. Your oil will run out and the best engine made will stop short if that happens."
"Whew!" exclaimed Ed. "Suppose we get Cora to look over our boat?She seems to know."
"Better have Paul do it," suggested Cora. "That boat is worth three thousand dollars, and I wonder they ever allowed you boys to rent it."
"They would not if Paul had not vouched for them," Hazel explained."They have a great regard for Paul's skill."
"And is he not going in the races?" asked Bess.
"I haven't heard him say," replied the sister.
"Bet he'll be a dark horse," suggested Ed. "Well, we can't wish Paul any too much good luck, but I do wish he would not stick so dose to his boats and tools. We scarcely see anything of him."
"Nor do I," agreed Hazel with a sigh. "I miss him dreadfully."
"Poor child," and Walter affected to put his big brown arm around the girl. "Let me make up for Paul. Does he kiss you very often?" and he brushed her cheek.
"Walter Pennington!" gasped the circumspect Hazel, "Do have sense!"
"That's what Cora taught me—to help the needy," he floundered.
"Come now, no more nonsense," ordered Cora. "If we are to race we have to get ready." A few hours later Cedar Lake was alive with craft. The rowboats and canoes were lined up first and our friends from Chelton, the girls in the Petrel and the boys in the Peter Pan, kept a sharp look out for the lost canoe. Of course they knew it would be repainted, but the lines being different from those of other boats they hoped to be able to distinguish it, should it appear for the races.
The judges had taken their places. The platform at the Point was gaily decorated for the occasion, and all sorts of banners were flying. The course was to cover one mile, and it ran clear out into the open lake so that the delightful view was unobstructed.
Of all the canoes a bright red craft with a girl in Indian garb attracted most attention. The girl had her hair flying and was indeed a striking figure in the brilliant bark.
There were many green boats, all having Indian names, and there were those of wood in the natural color. Girls vied with boys in point of numbers, and had it all their own way in point of attractiveness.
"They are all ready," Cora told her friends, as the man on the bench who held the pistol allowed it to glimmer in the sunlight. The next moment a crack rent the air and the boats shot off.
For some moments no one spoke. All attention was riveted on the graceful canoes that so motionlessly covered the deep blue lake. The dip of the paddles was the only sign of movement although the dainty boats were making good time in covering the courses. Suddenly when all others had left and were off a light canoe shot out from some place, and a girl with her hair flying, and dressed most peculiarly, started off after them all.
"She gave them a handicap," said Cora, then something occurred to her. The same thought came to the others for each held her breath.
"The ghost girl!" whispered Belle, finally. "However did she get in?"
"It surely is! See her go! And there—there is that man fromPeters'," exclaimed Bess to Cora, "and he, too, is in the race."
"They can beat anything on the lake," declared Hazel. "See her go!"
"See him go!"
In a few seconds those who had so mysteriously entered, the race were far up in the line with those who had first started. The girl was wonderfully graceful, and the man showed marked skill at the paddle. He was trying to keep close to her, that was evident, but at a cheer from the shore and from the outlying boats the girl shot ahead and was soon out of hearing of the man, who evidently was her companion.
"She will beat him—she will beat them all!" declared Cora, and this was the opinion of most of the thousands of spectators.
"But if she does," faltered Belle, "do you suppose she will go to the stand dressed like that to receive the prize?"
"We shall see," said Cora. "At any rate this combination is far more interesting than the real race."
A red canoe was alongside the girl in the light one. For a few moments it seemed she would be outdone. Then, with a clever light dip of her paddle, that scarcely seemed to touch the water, the Fern Island girl was again ahead.
The first course had been covered and the boats were turned back for the final run.
"The man has dropped out," said Belle, "See there he is just floating along."
"He wouldn't be beaten, I suppose," Cora surmised, "Any one could see that the girl would come in first."
"They are coming back and she has not started," said Belle, who had the marine glasses.
"But she will," declared Cora.
"Yes, there she comes! Oh isn't it exciting! To have the queer girl beat all those who pride themselves on their skill. I wonder who or what she can be?" queried Hazel.
"Here come our boys," said Belle, as the beautiful golden Peter Pan motored over to the smaller Petrel.
"What do you think of that?" called Jack. "Look at the Wild Duck!"
"Isn't she a—bird!" confirmed the voice of Ed.
"A Sea Gull," added the more polite Walter. "I say, girls, do you happen to know her?"
"Yes," called back Cora, "We have met her."
Then there was an exchange of words understandable only to those expressing them, and to those for whom they were expressed, but any one might have guessed that the boys in the Peter Pan were asking the girls in the Petrel to let them "meet" the wild bird of the light canoe.
"They are almost in," said Bess, breathlessly. "Oh I hope she does not back out."
"No danger," said Cora. "One can see that she is making for the finish line."
"There are two boys who have been saving themselves," Hazel remarked. "I shouldn't wonder if they could beat our friend."
"Oh, I hope not," exclaimed Belle. "I should be so disappointed."
"And it would be impolite of them," added the innocent Bess, whereat every one laughed.
The boys had been saving their strength. Now they paddled off and their craft, one of brown and one green, seemed equal to any of the others.
"Hello there!" called Jack. "Did you notice?"
"What?" asked Cora.
"The canoe—the Gerkin?"
"He means it has lines like the lost boat," said Cora. "I have not seen it enough to know," she finished, but at the same time she took the glasses to look at the new rival of the wild girl.
"Yes it has, I remember," said Bess. "I had a good look at it the afternoon that they lost it. I was waiting for you to fix up your boat Cora, and I saw the boys' canoe."
"Well, I suppose they could never be certain, as there must be more than one boat built even on those lines," said Cora. "My! See how close they are—the girl and the boys!"
"She's ahead!" exclaimed Belle, clapping her hands. "How I hope she wins!"
"We all do!" declared Hazel.
Then they were silent. The first canoe was almost in, and it was the one called the Gerkin, paddled by the boys.
"Go it girl!" screamed the boys from the Peter Pan.
"Beat them, girlie!" called the girls from the Petrel.
For one brief second the wild-looking girl turned in the direction from which the voices had come. Hats were waved to her, handkerchiefs flaunted and then she paddled—paddled straight ahead and came into the finish first!
"Hurrah! Hurrah!" went up shout after shout.
"I knew it!" cried Cora joyously. "Now let us watch her."
"There's that dark man!" Bess told them. "Oh! I just wish he would keep away from her."
But he did not. The girl in the light canoe turned from the spectators as if she had been deaf and dumb. And it was the dark man—the fellow called Tony Jones—who went up to the judges to get their verdict.