"We have no time now," Jack told Cora, "but as soon as the races are over I will ask what that fellow told the judges. Certainly he must have said that he had a right to, the girl's prize, or they would not have given it to him."
"But how the poor thing hurried off! Why, she hardly had a chance to know that she won," replied the sister. "I think it a shame that the creature should be treated like something really wild," and she turned to watch the foamy wake that the little canoe was tracing, as the girl from Fern Island hurried to hide herself again where ever she might go. The signal precluded the possibility of further interest just then in the strange case, but indeed Cora's mind was not so readily shifted. She wanted to know about that girl.
The speed boats were next to be tried out. What a splendid showing! Who would have dreamed that such handsome craft were on the waters of Cedar Lake? Of course they were all private boats, and their flags flaunted proudly before the spellbound spectators.
The Peter Pan was among the very finest. In this were our boy friends from Chelton, and as they lined up the admiration expressed was unstinted. The Sprint was another splendid speed boat, built with torpedo stern and a queer spray hood at the bow. This was being run by a girl—a young lady noted for her skill at any sort of motor.
"Oh, I hope our boys win," exclaimed Bess, as if that hope needed to be made known.
"They have a good chance," argued Cora. "Of course so many things may happen that there is absolutely no surety of any machinery on the water." She looked to see that the oil cup levers of the Petrel were down to prevent the lubricant flowing before it was needed and also gave a critical survey of the little wire that connected on the cylinder. It emitted a clear "fat" spark as she touched it to the metal, and this seemed to satisfy her.
"I guess ours is all right; isn't it?" asked Hazel. "Wouldn't it be fine if we won something!"
"I fully intend to," declared Cora.
"That means that we will," responded Belle. "If Cora intends!"
"They're off!" called out Hazel, "look at Jack!"
He was standing over the engine evidently making sure that even at the start he should not loose a single atom of the power that twirled the propeller. Ed was at the steering wheel. Walter was at the side, and with him was Paul Hastings.
"There's Paul!" exclaimed Bess, when they could make out that the fourth figure in the boat was that of the boy's friend. "I thought he would run another boat."
"He wouldn't want any other to beat the Peter Pan," explained Hazel, "and at the same time he would not take the glory of it from the boys who have it for the season. That's Paul," she finished proudly.
The first "leg" of the course had been covered, and the three best boats, the Peter Pan, the Sprint, and the Lady B. were all in line. A dozen others were trailing, and while they showed less speed it was not safe to say that they could not catch up with the three stars. From buoy to buoy over the triangular course the boats fairly shot, and a beautiful sight they made on the green-hilled basin of Cedar Lake.
The course was covered once and then the second round was started by the boats that had qualified. These were only five in number, one of them being a very queer looking craft, built high on the sides like a huge box and showing at the bow a double point, like a pair of slippers. This of course attracted considerable attention, and it shot past the Sprint, which was run by the young lady who had hoped to meet with no rival such as a home-made boat, to say the least.
"Can't that go? Look at it!" the spectators were exclaiming.
"See, Paul is at the Peter Pan's engine!" said Cora, as the color of that boy's cap made it plain that he had taken Jack's place. "I hope Jack has not strained his wrist, or done anything like that."
"Very likely Paul is just seeing if everything is right," saidHazel. "See, there, Jack has his place again."
During the second and third trials all interest was centered on the Peter Pan, the Hague, (the home-made boat), and the Sprint. Now this would be ahead, and now that, until it seemed that there could be but little difference in the merits of any of the three. Of course most of the sympathy was with the Sprint, because a girl was striving to outdo the boys. At the same time, the Hague, being such an oddity, and the lake folks knowing that this had been built by the boys who were running it, came in for its share of applause.
"There is not a boat on the lake that can fairly beat the Peter Pan," Hazel declared almost feverishly, for the others were threatening to do so. "I have heard Paul say so."
"He ought to know," said Cora with a sly wink, "but that big tub, the Hague, is something new. Perhaps it has the power of a destroyer."
"It is big and clumsy enough to have any sort of power," remarkedBelle. "I should just be sick if it did win."
"All's fair, in a fair race," remarked Cora. "See the Hague is ahead!"
One more course was to be made, and every eye and every mind was centered on this, the final test.
The Peter Pan shot out bravely and safely. The Sprint made a splendid second! Then the Hague! Something seemed wrong. It was "missing." That could plainly be heard from the girl's boat. Away they flew, yard after yard being made in wonderfully short time. The Sprint was doing well with the Peter Pan. The Hague suddenly shot forward, passed every thing—passed the Sprint—passed the Peter Pan and won!
"Hurrah for the tub!" yelled the crowd. "Hurrah for home talent!" shouted the throng. But the young lady in the Sprint throttled down and her boat drifted over to the boys.
"How was that?" she asked breathlessly.
"I don't know," replied Paul "but I'm going to find out. We were second and you made a splendid run—but I'm going to look into the glories of the Tub!"
So keen was the disappointment of the girls in the Petrel that they seem to have lost heart for their own race, which came next. But when Ed and Jack called out to them, and Paul waved his cap in his own quiet way, the encouragement dispelled their lost of interest.
Cora spun the flywheel, and the boat took its place. She looked every inch a girl to win, while Hazel kept close to the steering wheel and the twins did their part in just looking pretty. The motor girls' boat was the cynosure of every eye, as it happened to be the only boat in that class run by girls.
The signal was given and they started off.
"Steady!" Jack called. "Go it, sis!"
He should hardly have done this, but his boyish love for the girls and their boat could not be restrained. Then they waved, and the maroon and white flag stood out tense and defiant like some animate thing.
Not a word was spoken by the girls. It seemed so important to pay all attention to the machine upon which depended the loss or gain of a victory—if we may say that a victory can be lost.
"Look out!" called Hazel suddenly and a boat crossed their path so closely that Cora was obliged to throttle down, and Hazel had to run straight for a buoy to avoid a collision, and the craft hit the course marker. Then the Petrel stopped short! It simply wouldn't move!
"Oh!" sighed Belle and Bess in one voice, but Cora jumped up and tried for a spark. None came!
She looked at the connections. They seemed all right.
"Maybe it's in the gas," she said nervously, while the other boats were passing them by.
She yanked down the bulkhead board that hid the gasoline tank. Then she saw the cause of the trouble.
"Short circuited!" she exclaimed. "That happened when we struck the buoy. It jarred the battery wires together," and the next instant she had adjusted the difficulty and the engine, glad to be off again, seemed to try to make up for the lost seconds.
Every one in the Petrel breathed a sigh of relief. The anxiety had been intense.
"I was certainly afraid we would have to row to shore," Belle said, taking a more comfortable position.
"We will make up for it," declared Cora, throwing on full speed and directing Hazel as to the best way to hold the wheel exactly straight and in doing so to get all possible distance out of each explosion of the engine.
They finished in a tie over the first course. This was encouraging, for the little Mischief, their closest opponent, was acknowledged a fine boat.
Two more courses were to finish the race, unless there was another tie. The girls scarcely noticed the frantic efforts of the boys in the Peter Pan who were encouraging and directing at the top of their lungs. The young men in the Mischief were anxious. They could never stand it to be beaten by a couple of country girls! But, on the second trial Cora's boat won, and then came the final test.
Up the lake they went again! Now the Petrel was ahead and now theMischief until the closeness of the two became absorbing.
"The best race of the day!" the judges were declaring. "Neither has it all her own way!"
"Plucky girls," said another of the men at the stand. "Whatever happened when they stopped they must have been well able to handle, from the way they caught up again. I thought they were out of it that time!"
"We all did," put in some one else, "but I have seen that little girl on the lake before. She knows something about a motor boat."
"Here they come!" Jack yelled. "Just look at Cora! Isn't she fine!"
"And Hazel!" put in Paul with a smile.
"How about Bess and Belle?" asked the fickle Walter. "I think they look just sweet!"
Only two more "legs," and the Petrel was still ahead!
One was covered, with the Mischief so close that only those in the best position could tell which one led.
"Steady, Hazel!" cautioned Cora. Straight as an arrow she directed the wheel.
Then there was a splash from a nearby motor boat. A shout and screams!
"Overboard!" yelled the frantic onlookers. "A child overboard!"
It was just at the side of the Petrel!
"Hazel! The engine! Bess, the wheel!" shouted Cora, and before any one knew what she was about, she had jumped into the water and was making for the spot were the child had gone under.
The boys in the Mischief did not stop. Hazel took the engine andBess the wheel, realizing that Cora meant for them to finish.
Presently she came up with the child in her arms!
"Go it, girls!" she called, "Win! Win!"
The Mischief was close alongside. Cora was clinging to the side of the boat from which the child had dropped, while the almost fainting mother was recovering her little one. The others assisted Cora in, and forgot all about her race.
But Cora stood spellbound in the cockpit, dripping wet. She stood there ignoring the thanks poured out on her.
"Steady, Hazel!" she called. "Win—win for me!"
That was enough. The motor girls, those in the Petrel, realizing that their leader was safe, now determined to "win for her."
The Mischief had gained in the time that Cora swung overboard, and now was just abreast of the Petrel. The slight change of course also told in the last few yards, but now Hazel and Bess forgot everything but the call of Cora to win, and their boat, like a flash, sprang up to its opponent and passed it by the closest record made in any of the races.
"Hurrah! Hurrah!" rang out in their ears.
"A double victory!" shouted one of the judges. Then the Petrel was turned back to get Cora who was in the other motor boat.
The boys in the Peter Pan had not seen Cora dive over for the child, but as quickly as they heard the report, that was now being spread about, they made for the boat from which the accident occurred.
Back with them went the boat of the accident crew, and when Cora finally returned to her own craft she had an escort of honor to the judges stand.
"First prize for the Petrel!" announced the head judge. "And the honor medal for life-saving to Miss Cora Kimball, the leader of our brave little crew of motor girls."
"Wasn't it exciting!" Belle was saying to the little party that had gathered around Cora as she received their praise and congratulations after it was all over. "I never dreamed that boat races could furnish so many kinds of excitement."
"I don't call it all delightful," objected Bess putting her arms around the still wet form of the girl who had made the rescue, "and I don't want to see Cora jump overboard that way again. I shall never forget it."
"A good way to find out how much folks think of me" replied Cora. "I really didn't mind it a bit, once I knew that I could get the child before she got under a boat. That was all that worried me."
"Your cup is a beauty though, sis," said Jack, who was examining the trophy. "I think it's prettier than the one we lost. Paul is not satisfied that we lost fairly though, and he's up there now disputing it."
"What good can that do now?" asked Belle.
"No telling. Paul knows what he is about," replied Jack. "But say, did you know that the wild girl in the canoe is deaf and dumb?"
"No!" exclaimed all the girls in one voice.
"Yes that's what the dark fellow who was trailing her told the judges, and that is why, I guess, she scampered off so. Too bad! She is pretty too."
"And did the man take her prize?" asked Cora.
"Sure thing," replied the brother. "He said he was her guardian."
Cora thought for a moment. "Seems to me," she said finally, "that she turned towards us when we shouted to her."
"Sometimes deaf people know such things by instinct," Jack offered as an explanation. "I thought too, that she gave us a knowing glance."
"Pure conceit," said Ed. "Wallie claimed the glance, but I saw her hair float in my direction."
"She's a star canoeist," declared Jack, "and I should like to be better acquainted with her."
"Can you talk with your fingers?" asked Belle. "I know a little of the sign language, but I would not be too sure that I could carry on a conversation."
"But you could introduce one," insisted Jack, "and once she knew I wanted to know her—I might depend upon—true love to make known all the rest."
"Here! Here! Jackie!" cautioned Cora, "you are not to talk of love—until mother comes home. You have promised to look after me."
"As if Ed and Walter couldn't do that ten times better than I can.But hello! Here comes Paul—the Paul."
"It's ours," called Paul, before he was dose enough to talk in the regulation tones. "Come on up! The judges want to see the crew of the Peter Pan!"
"Ours!" echoed Jack, Ed and Walter.
"It certainly is ours. Those fellows had the gasoline doped?"
"What's that?" asked Ed.
"They had camphor and some other stuff in their gas," went on Paul, "and the engine nearly kicked out of the boat."
"Did they admit it?" inquired Ed.
"Not until I charged them with it," replied Paul. "I knew there was something up when they got ahead on that jump. Then I asked if I might take a look at that freak engine, and they allowed me to do so. I smelled camphor the minute I stepped aboard. They even had not sense enough to hide the bottle, and it's against the present racing rules on this lake to doctor gas. So I taxed them with it, and they finally admitted it and we went together to the judges. They were pretty decent chaps and did not seem to mind, very much, relinquishing the prize. You know what it is, don't you?"
"Certainly, it's a dandy canoe," said Jack, "And you really mean that it is to be ours?"
"If you don't hurry along some one else may claim it," said Paul."It isn't mine, it's yours."
"And to think that we and our boys both got prizes!" exclaimedHazel. "Isn't it too good to be true?"
"And too good to be false," answered Paul. "Now, boys, let's run along. I have something to do before evening."
"And I had better make for camp," said Cora. "These togs are wet."
"Of course," said Belle with sympathy in her voice. "But when do you get your medal, Cora?"
"I believe it comes from Philadelphia. Some wealthy man has it stored there waiting to be claimed."
"It's a wonder the mother of that little girl didn't want to adopt you, Cora," said Jack, as the boys started off with Paul. "I thought from the way she hung on to you she had intentions. Well, so long. We will give you first ride in our new canoe, and let us hope we will have better luck with this one than we had with the other," and then the boys went off for the prize.
"I can't get over that girl being deaf and dumb," said Hazel, as the girls made their way to the camp. "I can scarcely believe it."
"Well, now we have a double interest on Fern Island," Cora answered. "If there is really such an unfortunate creature hid or hiding there she ought to be rescued. I cannot understand, either, how that foreigner can be her guardian."
"That Jones?" asked Bess, as innocently as if she had not seen the girl race and heard about the man claiming her prize.
"Why, yes, of course," replied Cora. "And he says she is deaf and dumb. Who's calling? Didn't you hear some one?"
"Yes, there's Mabel Blake hurrying after us," said Belle. "She looks excited."
The girl who was running along the path did indeed "look excited."The motor girls waited.
"Oh, I thought I would never catch up to you!" Mabel panted. "You do walk at such a pace!"
"Why, how are you, Mabel?" asked Cora graciously. "I heard you had gone back to Chelton."
"We did intend to—but we haven't," she faltered. "Jeannette has been ill."
"Ill!" exclaimed more than one voice.
"Yes, that's what I want to see you about. I don't know what to do," and Mabel's pretty brown eyes filled to the lashes.
"Can we help you?" Cora asked.
"I would like to speak with you alone, Cora," she said. "But I know what you did this afternoon, and I see you have still to change your clothing."
"They are almost dry now," Cora replied. "Yet if you could wait five minutes I could easily change in that time. Here we are. Home again. And there! Nettie has heard all about our victories; haven't you Nettie?"
"Indeed yes, Miss Cora. But I was afraid for you," replied the maid. "The child's father sent a message up here to ask when he might see you?"
"Oh, they make too much fuss over a trifle," replied Cora. "Sit here on the porch with the girls, Mabel. I will be out soon."
Finally Mabel pressed her handkerchief to her eyes and murmuring some sort of unintelligible excuse she rushed indoors.
She was met in the hall by Cora.
"Why, what is it, Mabel?" she asked, putting her arms about the sobbing one.
"Oh, I cannot stand it," wailed Mabel. "The disgrace!"
"What disgrace?"
"The—that—man!" she stammered. "But I must go back to Jeannette.I am afraid she is losing her mind. Of course, you could not gowith me, Cora. It would be too much after your hard afternoon. ButJeannette got your letter."
"Yes? I hope she understood it."
Mabel tried to dry her eyes. "I suppose she did if any one could understand such a thing," she replied. "But to think it is in the Chelton paper!"
"When was it in?" Cora asked.
"It will be out to-morrow!" replied the tearful one.
"To-morrow," Cora repeated thoughtfully. "Perhaps Jack could stop it. He is well acquainted with the editor."
"Oh, if he only could," and Mabel brightened up. "That's what makesJeannette feel so dreadfully."
"It was very unfortunate," Cora said. "He is a dangerous man."
"Dangerous! I think he should be put in jail," declared Mabel hotly.
"But it is so difficult to catch such people," Cora remarked. "You could scarcely name your charge against him?"
"Name it? Never!" exclaimed the girl.
"There you are. One woman who might put him in jail flies off to New York. You could at least accuse him of fraud and you refuse. I myself know of one wrong doing that affected me and I prefer to keep quiet—for the present at least. You see what cowards we all are where our pride is concerned.
"You are not a coward, Cora Kimball," exclaimed Mabel, "and I know perfectly well you would denounce him if you thought that safest."
"At any rate, Mabel, I think it will all come out right," Cora assured her. "Just wait until I have a glass of milk and I will go over and see Jeannette."
"I can never tell how it all happened," sighed Mabel, "I really think he had me hypnotized."
"He is a clever rogue," agreed Cora, and she knew now more about his roguery than she cared to sum up even to herself.
The interview with Miss Jeannette Blake was not altogether satisfactory, but Cora was too careful of the sick one's feelings to ask deliberate questions. She could not really find out how far the Blakes had gone with Tony Jones in the matter of paying him for the alleged placement of Mabel with a theatrical company, but she guessed they had either actually paid a large sum, or had given a note that might be equally compelling.
Also the notices that had been prepared for the press announcing her coming "debut" were very embarrassing.
It was the day after the races, and Cora sat with her brother on the porch of their bungalow. She had told him of Mabel's plight and was asking him to help her clear up some of the shades and shadows.
"Tell me, Jack," she asked, "what happened the night you followed Mabel out of the pavilion—the night that man gave her the false message?" Jack thrust his hands deep into his pockets, and looked very serious—for him. "To tell the truth, Cora," he began, "I had to make love to Mabel to get her out of his clutches."
"Make love to her, Jack!"
"Nothing smaller would do but you know, sis, the love was only a sort of sample, the kind a fellow might safely give away to any girl."
Cora laughed. "You funny boy," she said, "to flatter a girl to save her from—flattery."
"But didn't you ask me to? Didn't you say to watch Mabel that time you whispered as I was leaving? You are the funny one. It was you that put the wicked plot in my fair young head," and he sighed in mock sincerity.
"But honestly, did you see that man give her the telegram? It seems to me you might be a witness should there be trouble."
Jack jumped up. "Oh, no, you don't, sis!" he declared. "You don't get me in any further mischief. Mabel is too fond of me now."
"Jack, don't be silly! I want you to wire the editor of the Chelton paper that, owing to the sudden illness of Miss Jeannette Blake, her niece, Miss Mabel Blake, has been compelled to stop her musical studies, and postpone her debut as a singer. That is all true and if the other notice does appear you can arrange to have this given as the latest."
"Foxy!" declared jack. "'Not a word of fib and not a grain of truth. Well, you would beat Jones if you went at his game, but I do think it a good idea to wire Nat Phillips. I'll go and do so at once," he added, feeling in his pocket to make sure he had with him change enough to pay for the message.
"And Jack," Cora went on, "since you have been so good, don't you think it would be lovely for you to sort of keep track of Mabel for a day or two? That man, I am afraid, has her under some sort of influence, and there is no telling what he might not try to do to get some Blake money."
"Make more love to her? Suppose she takes me up?"
"I really cannot explain it all, Jack," said Cora gravely, "but the man has frightened more than Mabel. The woman who kept house for him and Peters was so afraid that he would find out she was leaving, that I could scarcely persuade her to wait while I changed the batteries in my boat. She kept saying she wanted to get out of his power. And now Mabel declares he had her hypnotized. Then that sort of queer girl who won the canoe race—surely he has her somehow in his power, as they express it."
"Powerful man," answered Jack, "but how is it, Cora, that you talked with him and he did not hoodoo you?"
"Oh I'm immune I suppose," and she smiled with her handsome face turning up in becoming hauteur.
"Guess Ed thinks that, too," said the brother mischievously. "He has been growling to me about it."
"Ed is a dear, nice boy," she said simply.
"That's the sort of compliment a girl always pays the fellow she is going to turn down," Jack declared.
"I think, brother, making love to Mabel has gone to your head. But hurry along to the station and send off the message."
Cora sat there silent for a few moments. There was no one about the camp but herself, and she would soon go down to the lake for a run in her boat. She was thinking that of all the peculiar cases of other people's troubles in which she felt she had a right to interfere that of the girl who was said to be deaf and dumb and who was probably hidden somewhere on Fern Island was the case most urgent. If only she could really find her, and find that poor demented old man who had so strangely crossed her path. Cora had not the least fear of either of them and suddenly she resolved to go alone to Fern Island and try to find them.
Ten minutes later, when she had left a note dangling from the hanging lamp in the dining room, saying to the girls that she would be back by supper time, Cora was gliding up Cedar Lake in the Petrel.
She was glad that she did not meet any of her friends who would, of course, ask where she was going. And now she was too far away to meet any boats of summer fisher folks or pleasure seekers.
"I am beginning to believe in the psychic," she mused, "for I have a feeling that a cry for help comes from that perfectly silent island."
Her heart beat quickly as she throttled down her engine, stopped it, and finally stepped ashore. Her landing was made on a different side of the island than before and she saw instantly that feet had been treading down the ferns from shore to inland. This path served to guide her along. Then she noticed particles of food.
"Hardly picnic folks along here," she thought. "Perhaps the canoe girl is somewhere about—"
But what was her terror when she faced the shore at a dear spot in the woods and against it saw the boat of the man Peters.
"Oh!" she gasped. "He must be on the island!"
Then she listened. Yes, there was a step! She sank down behind a clump of thick bushes and while hiding there she saw, not Peters, but Jones saunter down to the water's edge!
How she trembled! A half-fainting sensation overcame her. From a crouching attitude she sank flat on the ground and felt too weak to attempt to raise herself.
Meanwhile the man had reached his rowboat and pushed off. He glanced along and saw the motor boat.
"That girl!" he muttered. "She is interfering with my plans again. This would be an ideal place for a—" Then he stopped. "Bah! I'll just give her a chance to think over her courage."
Cora was still under the bush, and did not hear the gentle purr of her engine as the man started down Cedar Lake in her own precious motor boat, dragging his rowboat behind.
"He's gone!" Cora murmured, as creeping out from her hiding place, she could see that the rowboat had left the shore. "Well, I am safe again, for I have not the slightest fear of any one who may be on this island—now."
Cora glanced about her in a dazed way. Then she noticed that the bent grass and fern led toward a hill in a deep part of the wood.
"Strange," she was thinking. "I feel so absolutely certain that the young girl is about here, and that she needs help."
The path was so faintly outlined that Cora could scarcely trace it, but she knew if any one was in hiding the place of concealment must be at the end of the path.
Several times she looked back of her to make sure that the man Jones was not following. Then suddenly she thought she heard a faint moan!
She listened. Yes, that was a sob and in a girl's weak voice. Cora quickened her steps, and forgetting now to watch the path she was covering, forgetting all except that a human creature must be in pain, and that she could probably help that person. Cora Kimball almost ran until she reached the hill, where she saw a sort of screen made from the broken branches of trees.
Another moan! It was behind that screen! Quick as a flash Cora jerked down the branches, thrust her head into a cave and there beheld the one who was sobbing and moaning.
It was the canoe girl! She lay on a bed of pine needles her pretty face as pale as death, and her lovely hair tangled in the pine pallet.
As Cora pushed her way into the queer cave, the girl turned, and seeing her, screamed—such a scream as one might expect from the insane. At the same moment the brush was again pushed from the door and there stood the wild man! His white hair and his white beard showed Cora that he was the same person who had so strangely crossed her path in the woods the day she was fern-gathering.
"I want to help you," Cora spoke timidly, while the girl on the ground moaned pitifully.
"Help?" whispered the man, and his voice was as gentle and soft as a woman's. "They have killed my girl," and he knelt down beside the prostrate figure. He kissed her passionately. Then she opened her eyes.
"Father, dear," she murmured, "You must go—quick!"
He kissed her again; then he turned to Cora.
"Young woman," he said gravely, "you must not harm my darling. She is innocent." Then he left the cave.
What could she do? What should she do? This girl was neither deaf nor dumb, and for that Cora was grateful, but if that dangerous man, who had said she was both, should return, and find Cora with her!
"Dear," said Cora gently, "try to trust me. Tell me what I can do for you?"
"Oh, if I could but die!" the girl sobbed, "but there is father!"
Then Cora saw that she was becoming unconscious. Feeling about the half-dark cave place Cora came upon a pail of water. Beside it was a tin cup and this she filled and carried to the sick girl's lips.
"Try to drink," she whispered. "Then if you can stand I will take you to my house in my boat."
The girl did sip some of the water. Again she opened those wonderful eyes and looked at Cora.
"You are kind," she said. "He did not send you?"
"No one sent me, dear, and I promise never to betray you."
"At last," she murmured, "a friend!"
"Yes, a friend," Cora assured her, "and I am going to prove it to you. I saw you one day as we—some girls and myself came to this island. Then I saw you win that splendid race, and since then I have been determined to find you."
"'He made me do it, he made me go in the race," said the girl, "and now he brings this letter."
"What has shocked you so?" Cora asked. "Was it the letter?"
"Yes, he says they are coming for father!"
"Who?" Cora asked, but the girl's face went so white that again she pressed the tin cup to her lips.
"There," Cora went on, "we will talk of nothing now but of what we shall do to make you well again. Could you walk ever so little a distance? To my motor boat?"
"If I could, what then?" asked the girl.
"Then loving hands would bring back the color into your checks, and then the best boys in the world would come to help your father."
"Help father!" she repeated. "But that can never be done. Father is—an outcast!"
"But he has no disease," Cora said, remembering what Kate, had told her was Tony's excuse for going to see a victim of some dreadful disease, who was on Fern Island.
"No, thank God, his body is well, but his soul is sick—so very sick."
"Let me see if you can sit up?" asked Cora. "It will soon be night and we must try to get away."
"It will, be much better to leave him, and return, soon, well and strong enough to comfort him again," Cora said, "than to stay here, and perhaps die."
"You are right," said the stranger getting up on her elbow. "Oh, what it means to speak with a girl again. Heaven must have sent you."
"There, you are up now," spoke Cora quickly, realizing the importance of urging the girl to get up while she felt so inclined. "See, you can stand! There, now you can walk."
"But I must say good-bye to father. Oh! should I leave him?" she sobbed.
"Just for a little while, dear," Cora again assured her. Then the girl put her finger to her mouth and gave a queer whistle.
"I will be outside so he will know that I am better," said the girl."Father has been so frightened."
The next moment the man appeared again.
"Father," said the girl, "I am going with this friend some place to get well. Should I go?"
"Friend? Yes, she is all of that. Daughter go!" and the man pressed her to his breast.
"And you will be all right? No one will come for you?"
A look of horror swept over his face. "They shall not find me," he faltered, releasing his daughter from the embrace.
"Let me tell you, sir," ventured Cora, "that the man I just saw leave this island is a villain. Don't believe one word he says."
"Villain? Yes! He is that, for he would have carried off myLaurel!"
"Hush father, you showed him that you had more strength than a coward can have. I feel so much better. I am almost cured since this girl has taken my hand."
"My name is Cora Kimball," said our heroine, "and I have a camp at the lower end of the lake. It is there I am taking Laurel."
"And she may come to see me?" almost sobbed the aged man. "My little wild Laurel."
"Yes, indeed, and some day I feel that we may take you, too, away from this island. There, I do not mean anything to harm you. Come, dear, it is growing dark."
"I will leave a branch of laurel to guide you back to me," the man said to his daughter. "When you come, look for it as I shall place it fresh every day."
"Go now, before I go," his daughter urged. "Then I shall feel that you are safe."
He turned, and the girls stood to watch the last of that queer form as it disappeared over the hill. He was going to one of his many woodland haunts.
"Now we may go," said the lonely one. "Poor, dear father!"
"Be brave," urged Cora, as she led her toward the shore. "I am so glad I found you."
"If you had not I feel I should have gone insane. That man was always terrible, but today he wanted to take me away!"
"Once in my little boat and you will almost forget all those terrible things," said Cora. "I left—it—here!"
Then she stopped in dismay, as she saw that the boat was gone!
"The boat is gone!" Cora almost gasped. Then the girl, the sick frail creature, did a remarkable thing—she came to the rescue of the stronger one.
"No matter," she said calmly. "I feel so much better with a girl to speak to, that if you will put up with my strange life for a night, perhaps it will be all right in the morning. There," as Cora showed by her change of color that she felt it would be a risk, "lots of people think sleeping, out of doors is the very best sort of life. Don't you want to try it?"' and her arm stole around Cora's waist.
"Why, of course we can only try, but I am afraid that you will suffer, Laurel. You are very weak," said Cora.
"No, I was only frightened," and she made an effort to show that she did really feel better. "Now, when we go back we must not let father know that we are still on the island."
Cora did not question this. That the girl had a good reason for keeping her presence a secret from her father she felt certain. But to turn back to those woods! And night so near!
"I suppose there is absolutely no way of getting a boat?" Cora questioned.
"Even my canoe is gone. That awful man is to blame," replied the girl.
"Did he take it?" asked Cora.
"When I refused to go with him, he said I might die here," replied Laurel. "That was to get more money from father. Oh, you cannot know how I have wished to speak with some one!" and her big, brown eyes filled with tears.
"And I am so glad I did come," Cora assured her, "even if our first night must be a lonely one. I am used to queer experiences."
"Then I will have no fear in showing you how I have lived here. Of course, it was for father."
They retraced their steps, and in spite of all the assurances that each pledged to the other it was surely lonely.
"Shall we go to your little pine cave?" Cora asked.
"I think it would be better not to," replied Laurel, "for indeed, one never knows what that man might do. He might come back just to frighten me."
"And he saw how ill you were?"
"Oh, most men think girls get ill to order. Very likely he thoughtI was acting," and the strange girl almost laughed.
"Our folks will be frightened about me," Cora said. "Are there no means of getting away from here?"
"There is not a person on this island that I know of," repliedLaurel. "Of course, Brentano took your boat."
"Brentano?" Cora repeated.
"Yes. Did you not know his name?"
"He seems to have a collection of names. One calls him Tony, another Jones, and now it is Brentano."
"But we knew him abroad. That is his name."
Cora wondered, but did not feel inclined to ask further questions then. It was almost dark, and under the pine trees shadows fell in gloomy foreboding.
"Hark!" exclaimed Cora. "I thought I heard an engine!"
They listened. "Yes it is an engine," replied Laurel, "but I am afraid it is over at Far Island."
"Couldn't we shout?"
"I would rather not. You see father wants to stay here," she said hesitatingly.
"You mean if any one came for us they would know we were not alone here?"
"They might suspect. Or they might just happen to see father."
Cora was sorry. She wanted so much to call to the possible passerby, but she saw that the other girl had some very strong motive in wishing to leave the island secretly.
"Do you never go away from here?" she asked.
"Only when I am forced to, as I was the day of the race. He made me race, threatening to expose father if I did not."
"And then he said that you were deaf and dumb," added Cora indignantly.
"I did not mind that at all. In fact it was the easiest way for me to get out of meeting people." Laurel sighed heavily. "I do wonder when our lives will change," she said finally.
"Let us hope very soon," Cora said. "I, of course, do not know your story, but I feel that in some way that man is wronging you."
"Yes, he has been our evil genius ever since he crossed our path. You see father's mind is not entirely clear, and I do not myself know what to believe."
In the distance they could now see the lights of several boats, and behind the great hill that made Far Island look like some strange mountain place, the sun was all but lost in the forest blackness.
"Oh," sighed Laurel suddenly. "I feel faint again."
She sank down before Cora could support her. And they were away from the little hut where the water was! Away from every thing but the pitiless night!
"Oh, how dreadful," moaned Cora. "What shall I do?"
For a long time Laurel lay there so still that Cora feared she might really die. Then at last, she managed to sit up and grasp Cora's hand.
"I have never been ill in my life," she said. "It was all from that shock the day he compelled me to go in the race."
"Then you have every chance of getting perfectly well again," Cora assured her. "If that dreadful man had only left my boat."
"Perhaps in the morning we may be able to go," Laurel said. "Now that I have made up my mind I feel it will be better for father as well as for me, for if anything happened to me I fear he would die."
A light in the distance for a time gave them hope that a boat might be coming to the island, but, like a number of others, it turned toward the pleasure end of the lake.
"I guess we will have to make the best of it for to-night," Cora sighed. "Shall I try to find the hut and get you some food?"
"And you have not eaten! In my misery I forgot you. Of course—there now—I am better, and we will have to make our way to the pine hut. But if that man comes back!" and she shuddered.
"Why does he hold such power over you?" asked Cora, as she put her arm protectingly around her companion. "Does he supply you with your things out here?"
"We supply him," replied the girl bitterly. "He is never satisfied but always demanding more, until father will soon have nothing left."
Cora was mystified but this was no time for the strange story. She must help the girl to the pine hut.
"I believe you are more weak for want of food than from illness,"Cora said. "I hope we find something to eat."
"Oh, yes, he brought things, but he should have done so before. I am weak for food."
It was difficult to find the way back now in the darkness, but the two lonely, frightened girls trudged on. At last Laurel was able to feel the stone on the path that gave the clue to her little hut.
"Does Brentano know you?" she asked Cora suddenly.
"I know him. I have been to his shack, and I have heard a lot about him from a housekeeper who left Peters. Do you know he is a handwriting expert?"
"A hand-writing expert!" gasped the girl. "Does that mean he could copy a signature?"
"Perfectly," replied Cora, "but how you tremble? What is it now?"
"Girl! girl!" she gasped. "What that may mean to us! Oh, I must find father! He will know. I must signal to him."
"Please do not to-night," begged Cora, fearing a new collapse from the excitement. "Wait until daylight. Here, now we shall get our food."
They were within the pine hut and had lighted a lantern. A loaf of bread and some salt meat were easy to find in the rudely-made box that served for a closet.
"I am actually starved," Cora remarked, with an effort to be pleasant. "I guess your pine trees make one hungry."
"Hark!" breathed Laurel. "I heard a step!"
The next moment Cora stood at the entrance to the hut, and waited. The step was coming closer and closer! And it was plainly that of a man!
"Oh, what can it be?" gasped Laurel. "Or who is it?"
"I—I don't know," whispered Cora, her voice trembling in spite of herself. "But we must be brave, Laurel, brave."
"Oh, yes, I will be! Oh I how glad I am that some one is with me—that you are here!"
Cora felt the other's frail body trembling as she put her own strong arms around the shrinking girl. Then Cora peered from the door of the hut. Still that stealthy footstep till the approach of that unknown. Cora felt as if she must scream, yet she held her fears in check—not so much for her own sake as for the other.
Suddenly there was a crash in the underbrush, the crackling of brushes, the breaking of twigs.
"He—he's fallen!" gasped Laurel.
"Tripped over something," added Cora. "Oh, maybe he will turn back now."
Them was silence for a moment and then, to the relief of the girls, they heard footsteps in retreat. Their unwelcome visitor was going away.
"Oh, he's gone! He's gone!" gasped Laurel in delight.
"Maybe it wasn't a man at all," suggested the practical Cora. "It might have been a bear—or—er some animal."
"There are no bears on this island," replied her companion with a wan smile—"no animals bigger than coons, and they couldn't make so much a noise. Besides, I heard him grunt, or moan, as he fell. So it must have been a man."
"Well, he's gone," rejoined Cora, "and, now that he's left us alone I'm going to hope that he didn't hurt himself. He interrupted our supper and now it's time we finished it," and in the dim light of the lantern they ate the coarse food and waited—waited for what would happen next.
"I know something has happened to Cora," Hazel was lamenting, "and I am afraid we have lost good time in not going with the boys. Let us get ready at once. Here Bess and Belle, you take these lanterns, Nettie carry matches—and take a strong mountain stick, and—"
"Oh, mercy!" exclaimed Belle, in terror, "why should we need a strong stick!"
"To make our way with," replied the practical Hazel. "It is not easy to get about in woods on a dark night like this," and she gave a look at the lights to make sure they were all right. "The boys were to send word here, or to leave word with Ben if they found her. Now let's hurry."
It was a sad little party that started off from Camp Cozy. When, that evening, according to the note Cora had left on the hanging lamp, she did not appear, for some little time, there was scarcely any anxiety. Cora was so reliable, and of course they could conjecture a dozen things that might have detained her. But when an hour passed, and she then was not to be found, Jack jumped up, Ed and Walter followed, and as they hurried off, left the word that through Ben, or by message to camp, they would report to the girls.
Now another whole hour had passed, and there was no message.
"Which way shall we go—?" asked tenderhearted Bess.
"To the landing first," Hazel replied. She was always leader inCora's absence.
This was but a short way from the camp. At the landing stood Ben with his faithful lantern.
"They've got her boat," he blurted out.
"Where?" asked the girls in chorus.
"Just in the cove. But nothin' could hev hurt her there. She ain't drownded in that cove."
"But how could her boat get there?" demanded Hazel.
"No way but to be run in there," answered Ben. "I tell you, girls, this is some trick. 'Taint her fault of course, but she's all right somewhere."
The thought of the man Jones flashed through Hazel's mind. And he had threatened Cora. She had interfered in taking away Kate, the house keeper, she had found out about the man and girl on Fern Island, and she had saved little Mabel Blake! Now all that—
"Trick!" repeated Bess. "That could not be called a trick."
"For want of a better word," said Ben, with apology in his voice. "But when the boys found the boat they started off in her and left word you were not to follow."
"But we must," insisted Hazel. "We might find her and they might not. But how can we go?"
"I could get you another boat if you're set on it," offered Ben, "but I wouldn't like to displease the young men."
"Oh, we will answer for that," Hazel assured him, "just get the boat. We will go up the lake."
"Yes, you've got it right. Up the lake, fer I saw Tony comin' down the lake."
Only Hazel understood him. He, too, suspected the man of many names.
It was not more than five minutes later that Dan brought the small motor boat from the dock, and scarcely more than another five minutes passed before the girls were off.
There were many small boats dotted about the water, and the girls looked keenly for the flag of the Petrel which they could have distinguished even in the darkness for the white head-light always showed up its maroon and white, but old Ben took no heed of the craft in the lower end of the cove. He headed straight for either Far or Fern Island—the twin spots of land far away.
Out in the broadest part of the water they suddenly came upon a rowboat without a light.
"Look out there!" shouted Ben. "Where's your light?"
There was no answer. Ben turned as far out of his course as it was possible to do at the rate his own boat was running.
"There is no one in that boat," declared Hazel. "See, it is just drifting."
"Might be," said Ben, throttling down his gasoline so that he might turn nearer the other craft for inspection.
"There does not seem to, be any one in it," declared Bess, who also looked over the edge of the smaller boat.
Ben did not reply. He had recognized the other craft as that belonging to Jim Peters, and guessed that the man might be up to some trick. When he had almost stopped his motor he jumped up and peered into the rowboat.
"'Low there!" he called "Sleepin—?"
There was no answer.
"Hum," he sniffed, "thought so. It's Jim. Say there Jim, you're not over friendly."
Thus taunted the man in the other boat moved to the low seat. He growled rather than spoke, but Ben was not the sort to take offence at a fellow like Jim.
"Joy riding?" persisted Ben.
"Say, you smart 'un," spoke Peters, "when you want to be funny better try it on some 'un else. Leave me alone," and he picked up the oars and sculled off.
"What do you suppose he was hiding for?" asked Belle.
"Oh he always has somethin' up his sleeve," replied Ben with a light laugh, "and the best we can do is to follow him."
"But then we cannot look farther for Cora," Objected Hazel.
"The best way to find her is to make sure that he does not find her first," said Ben. "She's all right so long as we keep her away from her enemies," and he turned the boat down the lake toward the landing.
From the finding of Cora's boat to the landing at Fern Island the boys lost little time. Somehow Jack felt the night's work had to do with the hermit and his daughter; also he feared that the man Jones might know of it, so that he lost no time in hurrying to the far end of the lake in hope of there finding his sister.
Few words were spoken by the three boys as they landed, took the lanterns from the motor boat, and after detaching the batteries, to make sure no one would run off with the craft, they sought a path in the wilderness.
Good fortune, or kind fate, led them in the right direction. They could see that the way had been beaten down. They walked on, one ahead of the other, when Jack, who was in the lead, stopped.
"What's this?" he exclaimed, stooping to pick up a white thing from the ground. "A letter," he finished, holding out a square envelope.
The other young men drew nearer to Jack, to examine what might prove to be an unexpected clew.
"What do you make of it?" asked Ed.
"It's—er—" Jack paused suddenly. On the envelope he had caught, in the light of a slanting ray from a lantern a girl's name—"Laurel." He had been on the point of taking the missive from its cover, but the glimpse of that name prevented him. Somehow he felt that it might have to do with the disappearance of Cora—she was always getting mixed up with girls, he reflected. And it might not be just the best thing to publish broadcast what this was Jack dissimulated.
"I guess it's some shooting license a hunter has dropped," he completed his half-finished sentence. "I'll just stick it in my pocket until we get to a place where I can look at it better. I might lose something from the envelope in the woods. Come on, boys."
"I think we're on the right trail," spoke Walter.
"But where in the world can Cora be?" asked Jack. He was beginning to be very much disturbed and was under a great mental strain.
"Let's yell!" suggested Ed. "If Cora is within hearing distance she'll hear us."
"Good!" cried Jack. "All together now!"
They raised their voices in a shrill cry that carried far.
As the echoes died away there seemed to come, from a distance, an echo of an echo. They all started as they heard it.
"Hark!" commanded Jack, standing at attention.
"It's a voice all right—an answer," declared Walter.
"Yes," agreed Cora's brother. "It was over this way. Come on, boys!"
Together they dashed through the bushes, trampling the underbrush beneath their feet. The lanterns they carried gave but poor light and more than once they crashed into trees. But they kept on, stopping now and then to call again and listen for the answer.
"Look! A light!" suddenly cried Jack, pointing off to the left.
"Come on!" shouted Ed, and they changed their course. Five minutes more of difficult going, for they had gotten off the path, brought them to the pine hut. In the doorway stood two girls with their arms about each other.
"Cora!" gasped Walter and Ed in one voice. "And the other may be—Laurel," murmured Jack, and then he too cried: "Cora!"
The next instant he had his sister in his arms, and there arose a confused clamor of joyful voices, each person trying to talk above the others.
"And—and you are really alive!" cried Jack, holding his sister off at arm's length and gazing fondly at her.
"Yes, Jack," was the glad response. "You see, Jack dear, it takes a good deal to do away with me."
"But—but something surely happened!" he insisted.
"Of course it did, but I'm not going to tell you about it now."
"Yes, make her, Jack!" insisted Walter and Ed.
"And your friend," added Cora's brother in a low voice.
"Oh, I almost forgot," she replied. "Boys, this is Laurel—Wild Laurel if you like. Laurel, these are the boys, including my brother. You can easily tell who he is," she added dryly. "More formal introductions can wait."
"Tell us what happened," demanded Jack, and then Cora briefly related what had taken place since she came to the island, how she had discovered the loss of her boat and had found Laurel and the old hermit. She told of their parting from Laurel's father and how she and her companion had returned to the hut.
"And then—then some one came toward the hut after we got here," she finished. "And, oh, how frightened we were! But whoever it was went away again and didn't bother us. Then we ate something and—and well, you know the rest."
"It's all right," Ed soothed, realizing that both girls had been terribly frightened. "We just came from the lake by your path. It's splendid to find you Cora," and he went over to press her hand. "And I am sure you and your friend are glad to be found."
Cora looked up, and in the dim lantern light she could be seen to smile. "It was all because someone took my boat," she said in a braver voice. "Laurel and I were just going to the main land."
"As soon as you feel able we will take you to the boat," suggested Jack. "It must have been very bad here for you, and with some one else loose in the woods."
"Oh, it was," said Cora. "Jack, I have been in many dreadful places, but on an island with an enemy prowling about seems to be the most fearful."
"An enemy?" repeated Walter.
"Yes, that man Tony, or Jones, took my boat," declared Cora, indignantly, "and this time I will not try to make the laws myself. I am sure he took your canoe, and now my boat!"
"Well, we have you anyway," said Jack giving his sister a great warm embrace, "and now we are going to take you both back to civilization. Walter, can you care for Miss Laurel?"
And then Jack, seeing a good chance, slipped into Laurel's hand the envelope he had picked up in the woods. The girl started, stared at him for a moment, and then hid the missive from sight. She did not speak, but looked her thanks to Jack.
So happy were the girls to get away and to be in such safe company, that the shock and exhaustion following it were almost forgotten. Cora felt much stronger, and so did Laurel. They looked like two very much tossed and tousled girls, but the boys were not thinking of their looks just then.
"Are we going in my own boat?" asked Cora, showing how the ownership of that boat had been so dear to her.
"In the Pet!" replied Ed, "Jack, let me help Cora; you take the light."
Walter, waited for Laurel. She seemed to have things to take with her from the hut. "A queer camp, isn't it?" she asked, "but it's a great little place on a warm clay."
"Or a dark night," dared Walter, whereat Ed threatened to take both girls and so leave the wily Walter alone—for punishment.
The girls laughed. "Walter is our champion," explained Cora. "I shouldn't wonder if it were he who found us."
"Never," contradicted Jack. "I—found you."
"That's a good, dear, old Jackie," replied Cora assuming something of her old-time lightheartedness. "Of course, Jack, you knew!"
Laurel was fumbling in her blouse. The others noticed the movement. "Just a picture I want to take," she explained. "You see, this is quite an old camp."
They saw but they did not understand. Then they started out in the darkness.
"Did you ever see such a black night?" asked Cora, "I had no ideaCedar lake was so—so threatening!"
"Never!" replied Ed.
"But the water is just as friendly as ever," declared Jack. "Now let us try it." He untied the boat, and the party stepped in. Cora pressed Laurel's hand in silent encouragement for she saw her turning her eyes toward Fern Island.
"A lovely boat," Laurel remarked too quietly for the young men to hear her.
"Shall I speed her?" asked Jack opening the gas valve.
"Oh, yes, let us get home," begged Cora. "The girls must be frightened to death."
"They are," Walter assured her. "Belle was smelling kerosene to keep up, when we left," he went on superciliously.
"And Hazel was looking for a club," Jack announced.
"What about Bess, Ed?" asked Cora.
"Bess—oh Bess, she was puffing—for breath. Bess had the puffs," he volunteered in a weak attempt at nonsense.
They were running down the lake. It seemed as if the boat knew exactly where to go, and also that her own mistress was aboard.
"Why, there's the landing!" exclaimed Cora, "how quickly we got here."
"And there is a crowd around. I'll wager they are there to welcome us," said Jack happily.
For a few moments all waited to see how the crowd would take the news of the finding of Cora.