"There are a lot of lights," remarked Ed in puzzled tones.
"And boats," added Walter.
They were looking intently at the center of the crowd on the water.
"What's going on over there?" asked Jack, looking up from the engine which he was slowing down.
"Something must have happened," answered Cora. "Hark! There's a lot of excited talk."
Across the water floated the murmur of voices, some of them raised high in discussion.
"What's going on?" called Jack to a man who slipped past the side of the Petrel in a rowboat.
"Fight!" was the quick answer. "Jim Peters and a fellow they call Tony. They had a quarrel about some papers and a girl, and I don't know what not."
"A girl?" gasped Cora, wondering if she could be involved in the unpleasantness.
"Well, that's what some say. I don't rightly know. Guess it didn't amount to much. Anyhow they've got Peters over there in his boat. They're bringing him to a doctor. It seems Tony whacked him with a boat hook, and then, thinking he'd done serious damage, he leaped overboard and swam for it. They can't find him."
"And I don't believe they ever will," put in another voice, and as a second boat came up Cora recognized old Ben. "Ah, it's Miss Kimball and her friends," he added as he saw Cora and those in the Petrel. "Now here's a chance for you to use your brains, Miss Cora. Can't you find Tony for us?"
"No, why should I," she answered somewhat coolly.
She did not quite like this familiarity.
"Oh, I didn't know," laughed Ben genially. "I just thought you always like to be doing things."
"Not that kind," put in Jack.
"Is Peters much hurt?" asked Ed.
"It's hard to say," answered Ben. "He's pretty tough and I guess it's hard to do him much damage. I'm going over to see about it."
He rowed over toward where the other boats were congregated and the Petrel with the slow progress of which he had been keeping pace, swung on to the dock. Cora and the others could see the return of the little flotilla about the boat in which was Jim Peters.
It takes but a small happening to furnish excitement for a small place, and the fact that Jim and Tony had quarreled, and that near the landing, created quite a buzz. Of course, much disliked as Jim was, he was one of the regular fishermen, while Tony was a comparative stranger. This caused the latter to disappear when he saw that he had knocked Jim down and had perhaps seriously injured him.
The landing of Cora and the meeting with her friends was almost unnoticed. It was the fight, and the possible hope of more of it, that occupied the morbid crowd.
"Cora! Cora!" the girls were exclaiming, each evidently trying to be the most exclamatory.
"Where have you been?" asked the ever-wise Hazel.
"Why, just getting Laurel," replied Cora as Belle loosed her hold on Cora's neck. "Belle dear, be careful," she begged, "my neck is awfully sunburned."
"We were scared to death," declared Bess, fanning herself with her handkerchief. "We thought you had been kidnapped."
"No, it was the boat that was kidnapped," replied Cora, "A boat is more useful than—"
"Now, Cora," interrupted Ed, "just be careful. Didn't we go after you? And didn't we carry you off?"
Laurel had taken Jack's advice and was resting on an old beam that lay alongside the dock. She was very pale, as one could see even in the uncertain light. Yet her sudden restoration to something like strength might be accounted for by the fact that she had eaten some food in the hut, the previous fast having weakened her greatly. Or was it the letter Jack gave her?
"It's wonderful to be back again," remarked Cora. "You have no idea how far away Fern Island is at night."
"Oh, dreadful!" exclaimed Belle. "I would have died."
"Poor place for dying," put in Ed. "'Twould be like the babes in the wood, and the birdies and the leaves and all that sort of thing. Even to die, Belle, one may do it up in style."
"I don't think you should make a joke of death," objected Belle, pouting.
"Oh, I didn't," declared Ed. "I was only trying to make a joke out of the idea of you being able to die—any place. You never will, Belle. You will go on being nice forever, like the brook."
The crowd had now scattered, so that the girls might make their way along to camp without brushing through the throng. They had left their boat at the landing, in order to see the girls, who, Jack declared, were waiting there. They could now go aboard again and finish the journey.
"Say folks," said Ed in a merry voice, "I propose that we make for the camp. We are starved, every one of us.
"And Laurel must be actually weak," added Cora, "for all sorts of adventures interfered with our supper."
Seeing the canoe girl, the others drew up to her. Whispered remarks were politely passed, but Jack kept winking and making queer signs toward Walter. Cora joined in the mirth as well as she could but was still nervous. As Cora's boat was setting out, Ben leaned over and whispered:
"Don't listen to word from any one, and what's more, if you know anything about the cause for this fight keep it close-to yourself. I told your brother the rest," and he covered her small white hand with his own brown rough palm.
"Thank you, Ben, and yes, I will remember," said Cora, with more stress in her voice than in her words. Then the Petrel puffed up to Camp Cozy.
There all attention was bestowed upon Laurel. The girl had gone from shock to shock until she was really in need of rest and nourishment. Of course Cora made light of her own predicament. She admitted she had been frightened when she found the boat gone, and Laurel sick, but tried to laugh and call it just one more experience, that would add to her general knowledge. But her face was white, and even Belle and Bess who had risen from prostration to over-joy could not be deceived.
"It's about that man Peters," Bess whispered to Belle. "You know she had some interest in him because she felt he knew about the hermit and the girl. But the girl is here now," she finished, unable further to explain Cora's agitation.
It was Jack who made the opportunity for Cora to talk privately with him, and the sister was not averse to seizing it.
Jack called her to the side porch directly after she had had some refreshments.
"What's worrying you, sis?" he asked kindly, putting his arm around her.
"Oh, Jack, I don't know. If you hadn't come!" and she shivered as she thought of that dire possibility.
"Oh, but we did come. We found you much sooner than we thought we would, and I must say you weren't half so frightened as you had a right to be under the circumstances. You are one of the bravest girls I ever saw—that's right and so is that Wild Laurel."
"Oh, I just love her Jack," said Cora warmly, "and if only this other thing about her father comes right, I shall not in the least regret the experience that brought us together. It is a great story, Jack. You know we have still to rescue her father."
"The hermit?" he asked.
"Yes, an outcast, for some mysterious reason. But we shall soon clear that up when Laurel is strong enough to be questioned. I feel so much better," and she kissed him as if he and she were just the babies they felt themselves to be on such occasions.
"Jack," she whispered, a little later, "I am just going to think it is all right. You can count on me. I am not going to have nervous prostration from so small a thing as to-night's happenings."
"Good, sis," and his second kiss was applause for her own. "Of course, you are the brickiest kind of brick. And so is Laurel, a Russet brick. Isn't she that?"
"Exactly that," and Cora started toward the room. "She will be a perfectly dear girl when she gets back to civilized ways. Hush, here she comes?"
"Cora," breathed Laurel, who now had on a robe that Belle insisted had been made for her, though her own mother had ordered it for Belle, "Cora, who was the man in the boat that was hurt?"
Wondering how the girl could have escaped overhearing the namePeters, Cora replied:
"A fisherman I believe, but he may not have been much hurt. Folks in such places as these cling to every sensation, and fix it up to suit themselves."
"But how will they find his assailant?" asked the girl, interested for some unknown reason.
Cora glanced at Jack. "They will look for him of course," Jack replied for his sister.
"Where was he hurt?" Laurel persisted.
"We have no reason to think he was hurt at all," said Jack decidedly. "It's only rumor, and if you don't mind my dictation, I should suggest that this be a forbidden subject. It is about the worst thing either of you can think of."
"Right brother, always right!" said Cora. "Now let us go in and try to make the girls happy with a little part of our story. You can trust me, Laurel," she said aside. "I know just what they want to know."
"Oh," breathed Bess, as Cora and Laurel entered the pretty, bright, little sitting room, "is it possible that our troubles are over for one night?"
"No, I see more kinds of trouble ahead," and of course she looked at the irresistible and irrisisting Walter. "Don't they match?" aside to Belle, whose ideas of color schemes and whose regard for the beautiful were blamed for the inflection of nerves.
"They do," she agreed. "Her hair is just russet-brown, and her eyes hazel. Oh, I have always loved that sort of face when it goes with the olive skin."
"How did you know that I had named her Russet?" asked Jack, touching with mock concern one stray yellow curl that threatened Belle's sight.
"I did not," she replied, "but I think it suits her exactly. AndWalter is all of a shade."
"Oh, Belle. I am going to tell him? Wallie shady!"
"You know perfectly well, Jack Kimball, I said shade—in color."
"Oh, yes. Color blind. Poor, afflicted Wallie. I have often wondered about his neckties. But doesn't Laurel take to him? And isn't she a beaut in that bag?"
"Bag! My best kimono! Look what teeth she has when she laughs."
"And you not jealous? Belle I think, after all, I shall have to return to my first love," and he slipped his arm all the way back of her steamer chair, for Jack dearly loved to tease either Bess or Belle, declaring what happened to one twin would react on the other.
"Hazel cannot take her eyes off of Cora. I might be jealous there," reported the blonde twin.
"You may 'jell' all you like on that score," Jack consented. "But hello! Here's Paul!"
The tall, dark boy, Paul Hastings, Hazel's brother, had just entered the door. Instantly he was overcome with the welcome, for while the boys fell to kissing him and smoothing his hair in the most approved lover-like way, the girls crowded around and offered him empty plates and glasses of flowers, to say nothing of Bess, with the Japanese parasol, who stood over his chair while Cora fanned him.
Laurel looked on like one who enjoys a play. There seemed in her eyes something to indicate that such a scene was not entirely new to her, but was for some time forgotten. Presently Cora remembered that Laurel had not met Paul before, and so introduced them. She merely said Laurel in mentioning names, but the omission of anything so unimportant as a last title would never be noticed among these young folks.
"Say now, let a fellow breathe" begged Paul, "and also let him puff out a little. There! I feel better! And I just want to remark that I have found the lost canoe!"
At the words "lost canoe" Laurel started. Cora saw her, and slipped over to her side.
"You need not worry, dear. Everything is safe with us," whisperedCora, pressing the other's hand.
"Our old original! You don't mean it?" exclaimed Ed.
"None other," declared Paul. "And I wonder you did not find it before."
"Where was it?" asked Walter.
"Tied up to your own dock. I just spied it as I landed."
"Oh, you go on," threatened Jack. "Do you think we are teething?"
"No, jollying," vowed Paul. "I just this minute guessed it."
Without more comment the entire party hurried out the door, and made for the dock. Jack won first place and so held the lantern.
"She's red," he declared. "While ours was green."
"Just a matter of time," said Paul in his delightfully easy way."Most girls are green when they come up here, and—"
Ed's hand was over Paul's mouth so he could not complete the joke. Jack was looking for the tell-tale piece of wood that had been inserted in the end of the canoe to mend a slight break.
"Yep, sure it's her," he declared.
"SHE!"' yelled the girls. "Jack!" Cora's voice came, "how can you so shock our English?"
"Pardon me, ladies," he murmured. "But this is it."
"Painted red," Belle was trying to realize out loud.
"Yes, and it's right becoming," agreed Ed, "but where did she get the sun-burn?"
"The Mystery of her Complexion, or, the Shade of Her Pretty Nose," quoth Jack. "Well, I don't mind. But I would like to get hold of The Silent Artist of Cedar Lake," he finished, in crude eloquence.
Paul was looking carefully inside the canoe. Presently he stood up straight, and held a note in his hand. "Let's have the light Jack?" he asked. "I have something."
Jack held the lantern so that it's gleam fell on the paper. "MissCora Kimball," they both read, then they handed the paper to Cora.
It was enclosed in an envelope of very fine linen; Cora saw this instantly, for she felt, as well as saw, the texture. Just as she was about to tear open the missive a thought occurred to her.
"I had best wait until I get indoors," she said. "I might drop something out of it here and break the charm."
A murmur of disapproval followed this remark. But Cora won out, and with much apprehension carried the strange letter inside. Under the light she looked first at the signature. It was Brentano!
"What is it? What is it?" demanded the girls in chorus.
Cora made light of her actions as she hid the note, but in reality she had no idea of reading it before any one. What might it not contain?
"I get so few love letters," she remarked, "that I want a chance to enjoy them."
"Then as that's the case," said Ed, "it's us for the Bungle. Come on, boys," and he pretended offence, "Us is hurt."
"Now Ed, I said letters—not lovers," corrected Cora.
"The pen and ink!" demanded Ed. "I will to thee a letter indite," and he opened the small desk in the darkest corner of the room.
This was a signal for every boy to pretend to write a love letter to every girl. Jack could get nothing better than a feather from the Indian headpiece that hung on the wall. This he dipped in Belle's shoe dressing, and wrote a note on the back of Cora's best piece of sheet music. Walter sat on the floor poking his whittled stick into the dead embers in the fire-place, and managed to scratch something on a fan—it belonged to Bess. Paul did not much care for nonsense, but appropriately made Indian characters on the wooden bowl with his pen knife. The whole turned out more fun than was expected.
Walter proffered his love letter to Laurel, and she surprised them all by reading this:
"My Mountain Laurel:
Meet me when the buds come and we will wait for the blossoms.
Your Bending Bough."
The cue that Laurel furnished was taken up by the others and whenJack offered his "note" to Hazel she read.
"My Dear Burr:
Be patient and you will loose the green, Hazelnuts are never soft!
Yours,
The Fellow Who Fell Down Hill with Jill."
Cora read what Ed did not write:
"My Reef:
When stranded I know what to grab—Your larder is ever my rock of refuge.
Yours, Co-Ed."
Belle and Bess both partook of Paul's note, and as Paul was acknowledged the artist of them all the double missive was gladly accepted by the twins—as doubles.
Belle pretended to read:
"Two to one, or two in one,
Double the wish and double the fun."
The merry making that followed this little farce was of too varied a character to describe. Some of the boys insisted on standing on their heads while others took up a low mournful dirge that might have done credit to the days of the red men and wigwams.
Finally, Cora insisted that it was late—disgracefully late—for campers to have lights burning, and the boys were obliged to leave for their own quarters. Going out, Jack whispered to Cora:
"Ben told Paul to say to you that under no circumstances were you to go down to the landing to-morrow. I know he has some good reason for the warning. The row between Peters and Brentano may not have ended there," and he kissed her good night. "We have had a jolly time and to-morrow when I come you must let me see the mysterious love letter."
Cora promised, and then the lights were turned out.
Making sure that all, even Laurel, were sleeping Cora slipped out into the sitting room, relighted the lamp and unfolded the note that had been found in the canoe.
She felt her heart quicken. Why did she fear and yet long to know what that man had to tell her? She read:
When you receive this I shall be too far away to further meet your daring, baffling challenge of my plans. What I intend to do I can not even tell myself, for everything seemed so easy of evil until you crossed my path. So easy was it that there was even no victory in the spoils. But first you came boldly to the den of poor Peters. Then you deliberately took from us that simple-minded, harmless old woman, Kate; next you did not call out when she gave you back your ring—not call out against us. All this to me was incomprehensible. Why should a young girl not fear us? Why should she not denounce us? Then you saved that little doll, Mabel Blake, until finally I began to wonder why I, a talented high-born Italian, should pretend to love crime when a mere girl could be a noble defender?
The difference made me feel like a coward, and I decided finally to go away. Before I left I had trouble with Peters. This hurried me and I have not time to write more now. I know you got back from the island—boys of your kin do not wait long to find their sisters. By to-morrow noon, if all goes well with me on the journey, I shall be able to write that to poor little Laurel which will release her from her bondage. I will send the letter care of you. Thank the boys for use of their canoe.
For some moments Cora sat looking blankly at that fine foreign paper. What a splendid hand! What direct diction!
And her conduct had influenced him to turn away from his evil ways. She had done nothing more than others, except perhaps she had more courage, born of better and more complete experience. She sighed a sigh of satisfaction as she again hid the paper in her gown. Then with one great heart-beat of prayerful thanksgiving, she, too, sought "tired nature's sweet restorer."
It was the sound of dishes and the tinkle of pans that awoke Cora next morning. Day so soon! And all the others up!
"Now, we have fooled you," said Belle with a light laugh. "You have slept longest!"
Cora had been dreaming very heavily, and her sleep seemed but a reflection of the previous day's troubles. Now she was awake and instantly she remembered it all about Ben telling her not to go near the landing; then about the letter.
"Is Laurel up?" she asked.
"No, we let her sleep to keep you company," said Hazel, "and we are going to give you such a surprise for breakfast! Don't tell, girls."
Cora slipped into a robe and stepped across the room to peer into the little corner where Laurel had gone to her rest.
"Laurel is up," she declared. "She is not here!"
"Not there! Not in bed! Laurel—she has not gotten up yet," declared Belle, who with frying pan in hand had hurried from the kitchen when Cora spoke.
"She certainly is not in bed," again declared Cora. "You may see for yourselves."
"Laurel gone!" exclaimed more than one of the astonished girls.
"She may have gone out," suggested Hazel. "I thought I heard someone about very early."
Following this thought the girls looked around called, and again returned to the empty room.
"What is this?" asked Bess, seeing a piece of ribbon-tied paper floating from the night lamp.
Hazel was first to handle it. She saw that it was a note addressed to Cora.
"It's for you, Cora," she said as she snapped the fragile ribbon from its fastening.
Cora read aloud:
"Forgive me for going this way but I could not wait longer to know about my father. I will return before dark and bring with me the canoe I have borrowed. You may, trust me and need not be anxious.
Gratefully,
"Gone in the canoe!"
"I know why, girls," Cora admitted, "and if you will all come in here together I will tell you as much, as I myself know. The real story I have not yet been able to learn, but must do so very soon."
Then she told of the first discovery of the man on Fern Island, following with the account of her second and third visits there, and finally of how she found poor Laurel in such distress the night of her own exile. The loss of her boat they all knew about, and that part was a certain kind of clear mystery.
"Laurel has gone back to see about her father," she finished. "It is only natural, and I should have thought it strange had she not done so."
"Of course," added Bess, brushing away a tear. "Poor little wild Laurel had to go back, it was almost as cruel to keep her as to pen up a brown bunny."
In spite of the seriousness of the moment every one smiled. FirstLaurel was russet, now compared to a little brown rabbit.
"We had just gotten acquainted with her," murmured Belle. "I thought her so romantic."
"And I thought her so intelligent," put in the ever-studious Hazel."Even Paul took the trouble to notice her."
"Well, we will have her back again," promised Cora. "I am positive she will keep her word. I think her a splendid girl. All she needs is the chance to get over the state of chronic fright she has been living in. Then she will be just as normal as any of us."
"Then, that being the case," said Hazel, with a jump, "I propose we keep normal by eating our breakfast. I am famished, and those boys almost emptied the ice-box."
"Nettie had to go away into town for eggs," Bess orated, "and therefore we had to do all the cooking."
"It smells all right," Cora said, as they pulled the chairs to the table. "Let us hope we will get through one meal without interruption. My appetite is positively canned."
"And I took the trouble to gather those morning glories," Belle announced. "I thought Laurel would like them."
"They are beautiful, Belle," said Cora, looking with admiration at the dainty green vines with their freshly-blown, colored bells that trailed from the glass bowl in the center of the table. "Nothing could be more artistic, and we enjoy them even if Laurel has missed them," Cora finished.
"But the food," demanded Hazel. "It is of that we sing. Food, food! Isn't it good; a girl is a loon who can't eat what she could," sang Hazel, with more mirth than English.
"Eggs, eggs, bacon and eggs."
"She eats all she can, then sits up and begs," sang Cora helping herself to that portion of the fare, and keeping time with the humming toast.
Bess was taking her third slice of bread. That inspired Belle.
"Bread, bread, Nettie's good bread—"
"When Bess took the loaf, we nearly fell dead," sang out Belle, rescuing the much-worn loaf from which Bess was trying to get a slice.
"The toasts are very well as far as they go," commented Cora, "but I notice that the food stuffs go farther."
"And the boys are coming at ten," remarked Hazel. "I'm glad I cooked. I don't have to wash the dishes."
"But the boys were going out in the canoe and now it's gone," Belle reminded them. "They were going to take the prize canoe, and the red one, and we would all then have a chance to float out together. Now, of course, we won't be able to go."
"We can go in our own boat," Cora said, "and really the lake is quite rough for canoeing this morning. When Laurel comes back she will likely bring her own boat and then we will have three in our fleet."
"Why couldn't you, and she come home in her canoe when you found your boat gone, Cora?" asked Bess suddenly.
"Hers was not at the dock—someone had borrowed it," Cora explained without explaining.
They had about finished their meal. Belle was already snatching the dishes, in spite of protests that there was some perfectly good eating which had not yet been eaten.
"There come the boys now," announced Hazel. "They look sort of-gloomy."
Cora glanced out of the window and saw Ed, Jack and Walter strolling along the path. She, too, thought they looked "gloomy," but it was not her practice to anticipate trouble.
The "hellos" were exchanged before the young men had time to enter the camp. Then Belle asked:
"Aren't we going canoeing?"
"Guess not to-day," replied Ed, his handsome black hair almost sparkling in the sunshine as he tossed his head in nonchalance. "We are still too cramped up. Had to sleep on the roof last night."
"Why?" demanded Cora.
"Choosin' that. My little joke," he replied, "Girls, I'm cuttin' up," and he tried to hide a serious air with a ridiculous remark. "But we'll do something. We'll go fishin"' he declared.
"We thought it best to keep out in the cove this morning," Jack was explaining to Cora. "There is so much going on around the landing."
"What is going on?" she asked rather nervously.
"Oh, that Peter's affair," replied her brother with assumed indifference. "They are looking him over to-day to see how much he's hurt."
"Oh!" said Cora vaguely. Then she went indoors from the porch to prepare for the fishing trip.
"It is strange Laurel does not come back," remarked Bess, as the girls sat on the porch after a most unsuccessful fishing trip (as far as fish were concerned), "Somehow I feel she would if she could."
"That's it exactly," Cora corroborated. "If she could get back here this afternoon, we would have seen her. But then her father may have been too lonely without her, or any of many other things may have detained her."
Cora jumped up suddenly, and skipped down the path to where her motor boat was fastened. She would look over the engine. The wire connections had slipped, and she would tighten them, and make some other minor adjustments.
Cora found more to do on her boat than she had expected. The boys had had the craft out latest and had neglected to put down the oil cup levers. This caused the cylinder to be flooded with lubricant, and if there was one thing Cora disliked more than another it was to run an oil puffing boat, and "inhale the fumes."
She pulled on her heavy gloves and got to work to drain out the oil through the base cock. Bending over her task she did not see, neither did she hear, an approaching person. It was Ben.
"Busy, eh?" he said in his splendid, candid way. Cora was so glad it was only Ben.
"Oh yes," she replied, "the boys never seem to know how to leave a boat. This is thoroughly oil-soaked."
"They're careless that way," admitted Ben, stepping into the boat to see what the trouble was. "If I were you I would make some rules and tack 'em down by the license card."
"They would never read them," Cora declared. "There—just look at that oil," as she collected some in a funnel. "This would have made the muffler smoke like a locomotive."
Ben looked at the oil cups. "There isn't any thing meaner than running a boat that throws out soft coal smoke," he admitted. "Those boys left the plungers up. But I say, girl, where's your new friend?"
"Laurel?" asked Cora as she put the wrench in the tool box.
"Yes. I thought she had come down here to stay."
"Well, we thought so too, but then she could not be expected to leave the island—all at once," and Cora wondered if she were saying too much.
"It's queer to me," went on Ben. "Them fellows have something to do with that," and he nodded his head toward the landing.
"You mean—Peters and Tony?"
"Yes. And what I want to say, Miss, is this. You had best keep clear of them. The row at the landing isn't exactly fixed up. I think it had to do with something at Fern Island."
"About Laurel?"
"Yes. I have suspected for a long time that the little runs that Peters makes up there must have paid him pretty well. Now that he has fallen out with Tony, likely it'll all come to Jim. Best thing we can do, miss, is to keep a sharp look out for the girl. If you can get her to come to camp with you I fancy all the rest will soon straighten itself."
Cora wondered just how much Ben knew of the mystery of that island. She felt obliged to withhold Laurel's secret, yet she felt, too, that Ben would do everything to help her get the girl and the hermit away from their place of exile.
"I'll tell you, Ben," she said finally. "I'll come to you for advice just as soon as I find it is time to act. Depend upon it we are not going to leave Cedar Lake until the mystery of Fern Island is cleared up."
This seemed to satisfy Ben, for beneath the deep brown of his cheeks there showed the glow of color that came with pleasure.
"All right, little girl," he said, "if you want me before I come again, just let me know. Ben will be only too glad to stick by you and all the rest of them," meaning the campers at Camp Cozy and those who bungalowed at the Bungle.
He went off, shambling along with his face turned toward the sky and his feet taking care of themselves. Cora looked after him.
"Dear old Ben," Cora mused, "everything seems worth while when it takes 'everything' to make such a friend as you can be." Then she went back to her engine. She must tighten the wires, and leave the craft in readiness for a quick run.
"Oh, Cora!" came the voice of Bess suddenly, "you've missed it. We have had the most glorious time."
Bess approached, her cheeks as red as the sumac she carried, and her eyes as bright as the very ragged sailors that hung rather dangerously from her belt. "Hasn't Laurel come yet?"
"No, not yet," replied Cora, intent upon her task at the wires. "I am afraid she will hardly come to-night."
"Then we have got to go after her," declared Bess. "Jack said so.He said she could not stay alone on that island all night."
"Oh, did he?" Cora replied in an absent-minded way. "I have had such—a time—with this boat," and she pulled on the wires to make them taut, breaking one and necessitating a splice.
"Can't we take the boat to look for Laurel?" persisted Bess, with more concern than she usually showed.
"Why, of course, I suppose so," said Cora. "There, I guess that will do," and she straightened up with a sigh, for the use of the pliers made her hands ache.
"Why, Cora!" exclaimed Bess, "you look actually pale. You must be awfully tired."
"Me pale," and she laughed. "Now, Bess, don't get romantic. Just fancy me being pale!"
"Well, you are, and I insist that you come back to camp at once and get a drink of warm milk. Cora Kimball, you—look—scared!"
"Oh, I am. Think what it would mean if the boys had knocked my engine out. And it did seem for a time that there was no 'if' in it." Cora jumped lightly out of the boat and was ready to greet the other girls. Soon a discussion of color and its causes was in progress, Cora maintaining that her cause of anxiety had been that awful engine and its troubles.
Ed, Walter and Jack had joined the others.
"I say," began Ed, "where do we, go to look for the wild Olive or was it the mountain Laurel? Jack is in a fit, and Walter can't be held. What do you say if we all start out in a searching party? No one has been lost for twenty-four hours, and this state of affairs is getting monotonous."
Without waiting for an answer the girls and boys clambered into the Petrel while Bess went to the camp with Cora who insisted upon washing her hands before making the trip.
"Did anything happen, Cora, while we were away?" asked Bess kindly.
"Not a thing, Bess. I only wish something real would happen; we have so many imitations of excitement."
"I want to find her this time," insisted Jack. "Cora, please let me? I promise not to frighten her, and not even to speak to her if you object, but I do so want to find her."
"Seems to me you found her last time," objected Walter who was looking particularly well to-night, for his suit of Khaki and his brown skin seemed all of a piece. "You nearly knocked me down in your haste to find the hut first."
"But," Cora said seriously, "Laurel may not want you boys to find her. She may not even want me to do so. I am just taking chances. Suppose you allow Bess and me or Hazel or any two of us to go up to the hut first? Please do be reasonable, and not silly," Cora finished in a voice she seldom assumed.
"You may come along as dose as you like, until we are just up to the hut," Bess consented, with marked good sense, "as the woods are so thick and black, but when we get to the hut—"
"We can 'hut' it I suppose," snapped Jack. "All right, girls; all I can say is I hope a couple of Brownies, or a mountain lion pay their respects to you both for being so daring."
The boat was running beautifully. The cleaning out that Cora gave the base, and the regulating of the oil cups together with adjusting the wires, helped to make the mechanism run more smoothly, and she glided along without "missing," which means, of course that every explosion was in perfect rhythm to every other explosion. There was a "hot fat" spark as Cora explained.
"There's a big steamer," remarked Hazel, as a large boat glided along.
Cora swung so that the red light of the Petrel showed she was going to the right. The steamer gave two whistles indicating a left course. Cora answered with one blast which meant right. The steamer insisted on left and gave one more signal.
"What's the matter with them?" Jack demanded, taking the steering wheel from Cora. "They seem to own the lake."
No sooner had he said this than the big boat came so close to the smaller craft that a huge wave swept over the small forward deck and instantly the colored lights went out, being drenched. For a moment every one seemed stunned! The shock to the Petrel was as if she had been suddenly dipped into the depths of the lake. But as quickly as it happened just as quickly was it righted, and the offending boat steamed off majestically, as if it had merely bowed to an old acquaintance.
"What do you think of that!" exclaimed Walter, indignantly.
"I think a lot of it," replied Ed, "but the captain of that steamer would not likely want to see my thoughts."
"Small trick," declared Jack, "Even if he had the right to pass us so close, common lake manners obliged him to give in to the smaller boat."
"The lights are both out," Cora said anxiously.
"Well, we are almost to shore," Jack replied, "and it won't be worth while to stop here. We can light up again when we get in."
This seemed reasonable enough and so they sailed along.
"Hello!" exclaimed Walter, "is this another boat trying the same trick?"
A launch was steering very dose to the Petrel. The lights were conspicuously bright, and the engine ran almost noiselessly.
"What is it?" asked Jack, seeing that the captain wanted to speak with some one.
"I want you," replied a voice of authority. "You have no lights."
"Oh, you're the inspector," said Jack candidly. "Well, that steamer that just passed doused our lights, and we are going to land here to relight."
"Sorry, but that's against the law," replied the officer. "You fellows always have an excuse ready, and I can't accept it. You will have to come along with me."
"Arrested!" exclaimed Belle aghast.
"That's about what it amounts to," replied the man coolly. "Can you get in here?"
"Who?" asked Jack.
"The captain," replied the officer grimly.
"Where does he go?" Jack further questioned.
"See here, young man," spoke the inspector rather sharply. "Do you think I've got all night to bother with you?"
"I don't know as I do," replied Jack in the same voice, "but if you will just explain what you want us to do we will give you no further trouble." Jack knew one thing—to refuse to comply with the request of an officer is about the last thing to do if one values either money or liberty.
"That's the way to talk," replied the inspector. "So just suppose you take this rope and I'll tow, you along. I fancy the party would, rather come than let one go alone."
"Of course we would," declared Cora. "In fact I am the captain of this boat."
Jack gave her a meaning bump on the arm—it meant, "let me do the talking," and Cora understood perfectly.
"But where are we going?" wailed Belle, as the man threw the towline to Ed.
"Not far," answered the man. "I just have to take you in, and then you have to do the rest."
"What's the rest?" inquired Walter.
"Oh, pay a fine," said the man carelessly.
"How much?" inquired Ed.
"From five to twenty-five; as the judge sees fit. There, are you fast?"
"Guess so," growled Jack, to whom the arrest seemed like a case of"Captain Kidding."
"And we can't go to Laurel?" Hazel inquired with a sigh.
"Shame," commented Walter under his breath, "but Jack knows the best thing to do with the law is to jolly it."
"Law nothing," muttered Ed, as he took the steering wheel, Jack being busy with the towing line.
"Never mind," Cora suggested. "It will give us a new experience. I had the fool-hardiness to wish for some real excitement this very afternoon."
"But to be arrested!" gasped Bess with a frightened look.
"A distinctly new sensation," said Hazel with an attempt to laugh."Just think of going before a real, live judge!"
But evidently the other girls did not want to think of it. They would rather have thought of anything else just then.
"Which way are you going?" Jack asked the man in the official boat."I thought your judge lived on the East side?"
"He does, but we may take some other fellows in yet to-night. This is only one catch," and the inspector laughed unpleasantly.
"They are actually going to tour the lake with us," declared Ed."If that isn't nerve!"
"Don't complain," cautioned Cora, "perhaps the longer the run the lighter the fine. And we are just waiting for our next allowance."
"And, being a pretty motor-boat, they will make it a pretty fine," mused Walter. "I would like to dip that fellow."
"Yes, they are going to let us tour the lake hitched on to the police boat! The situation is most unpleasant. But there is no way out of it," said Ed, sullenly.
"Suppose they won't take a fine, and want to lock us up?" askedBelle.
"If it were only one night in jail, I'd take it just to fool the man who wants the money, but I am afraid it might be ten days and that would be inconvenient," Jack remarked, as the police boat steamed off with the Petrel trailing. "They call this law. It may be the law but not its intention. We were almost landed, and just about to light up. I tell you they just need the money."
When they reached the bungalow, where judge Brown held his court, the three young men entered with the inspector, and when the judge had satisfied himself that he could not ask more than five dollars and costs for this "first offence" the fine was paid and the matter settled. Belle and Bess were greatly relieved when the culprits came back to the Petrel. They had a hidden fear that something else disgraceful might happen; perhaps the judge would detain the boys, or perhaps the girls would have to go in to testify. Cora's mind was pre-occupied however, and when the Petrel started off, and Jack asked her where to, she said back to Fern Island.
It was too late now for Cora to think of making her way to the pine hut without the boys, too dark, too late and too uncertain, so she agreed to allow Ed and Jack to go with her while Walter and the girls followed at some distance.
"There's a light," announced Jack, when they had covered the first hill.
"Yes, that's in the hut," Cora said.
Hurrying before her brother, Cora reached the thatched doorway. She pushed back the screen and saw Laurel leaning over the bed on the floor. As she entered Laurel motioned her not to speak. Then Cora saw that the girl was bending over her father.
"They shall not take me," he murmured. "I am innocent!"
"Hush, father dear," his daughter soothed. "'There is no one here, just your own Laurel," and she bathed his head with her wet handkerchief.
Cora instantly withdrew. She whispered to Jack, and he turned to meet the others, to prevent them coming nearer. Laurel followed her to the open air.
"Father is so changed!" she said under her breath, "while he seems worse, his mind is clearer, and I almost hope he will soon remember everything of the past."
"If his mind is clearer there is every hope for him," Cora replied."I do hope, Laurel dear, that your exile and his will soon end."
Laurel put her hand to her head as if to check its throbbing. Yes, if it only would soon end!
"What happened?" asked Cora.
"He fell and struck his head on a rock," answered Laurel. "It was that night we were in the hut. It was he who came walking along in the darkness, and we thought it was some one else. He came to look for me after I signaled that time. It was my father!"
"He slipped and fell," she resumed in a moment. "We heard him, you remember, and then—then he went away—my poor father!"
Cora gasped in surprise. "Is he badly hurt?" she managed to ask.
"No, hardly at all. It was only a slight cut on his head, but the shock of it brought him to him self—restored his reason that was tottering. When he got up and staggered off his mind was nearly clear, but he did not dare come to the hut where we were for fear it might contain some of his enemies. He went looking for me, but I had gone with you.
"Since then he has talked of matters he has not mentioned in years and years. But he is not altogether better. Oh, Cora, if his mind would only become strong again, so he could clear up all the mystery!"
'The girls clung lovingly to each other. Then a moan from the hut suddenly called Laurel away, Cora knew Jack was waiting for her in the woods, and she hastened to him.
One whispered sentence to her brother was enough to explain it all to him.
"We must arrange to get him away from here—Laurel's father," he said, as he put his arms about Cora. "Do you think he is strong enough to be moved?"
"I'll ask Laurel," replied Cora joyfully. If only now both the hermit and his daughter could leave that awful island. The other girls stepped to the door in answer to Cora's signal.
"Oh, I am afraid he is too weak for that now," Laurel whispered. "But when he is able I will have him taken to a hospital. That man kept us in terror. Now he is gone and I feel almost free."
"You have heard that he is gone?" questioned Cora.
"I had a letter," replied the other simply, and this answer only served to make a new matter of query for Cora. But she could not ask it now.
"He is sleeping," said Laurel. "Look!"
Cora went over to the pallet and looked down at the man who lay there. Yes, he was noble looking in spite of the growth of his hair and beard, and Cora could see wherein his daughter resembled him. There seemed something like a benediction in that hut, and as the thought stole over her, Cora breathed a prayer that it should not come in the shape of death.
"He's lovely," Cora said to Laurel. "Let us go out and not disturb him."
Jack and the others were waiting silently outside. Cora spoke to her brother. He understood.
"You girls had better go back," he said, "Ed and I will stay here to help Laurel."
"Oh, no, I must stay too. Perhaps in the morning we can take him away," insisted Cora.
Bess and Belle clung together. They had a fear of "the wild man" and it had not yet been dispelled. Hazel tried to induce Laurel to go back to camp and allow her and Cora to care for the father, but of course such an appeal was useless. Laurel would not think of leaving the sick man. It was finally arranged that Cora and Jack should remain, and then reluctantly the others started off with the promise of returning very early the next morning.
"I have some things to eat," Laurel told them. "I thought poor father would like a change, and I got them when I was at the Point."
"Oh, you save them," Jack said. "We had a good supper, and will make out all right until morning. But now tell me where I can get you fresh water."
Cora knew, and she took the extra lantern and started off with her brother. They talked of many things as they stumbled on through the woods.
"There's the spring. Look out! Don't fall in. My isn't that water clear even in the lantern light!" exclaimed Cora suddenly.
Jack filled the pail easily and then they turned back.
"But Jack," Cora began again, "you know there is some mystery about Mr. Starr. That must be his name, for Laurel signed hers so in the note she left."
"Whatever the mystery is, I feet certain it is nothing disgraceful," Jack assured her. "Very likely it was some plot to injure them, concocted by that fellow Jones."
The unfailing reason of this astonished Cora. How could Jack have guessed so near the facts?
"At any rate I think the poor man will be able to be moved in the morning," she finished, as they made their way up the hill. "It will be a wonderful thing if, after all, it comes out all right; that he is a free man, and that his slight injury may restore his scattered faculties."
"Let us hope so," said Jack fervently.
Cora wanted to tell him about the letter from Jones otherwise Brentano, but there was not time to do so before they reached the hut, so she reasoned it would be best to postpone it.
Laurel was sitting, holding her father's injured head when they entered the hut. He was awake now, and looking with such great, hungry eyes into his daughter's face.
"Now we have fresh water, father," she said. "Do you know my friends?"
"The girl, yes," he said 'feebly. "But the boy?"
"Her brother," said Laurel quickly, delight showing in her voice."Isn't it good to have friends, father?"
"Good, very good," he said. Then he dosed his eyes again, and neither Cora nor Jack ventured to speak.
"It does not seem possible that he can talk so rationally," Laurel whispered. "Oh, I have now such hopes that he will get well."
"Of course he will," Jack assured her. "But you girls had better get some rest. I will sit up and watch."
Cora added her entreaties to those of her brother, and Laurel finally agreed to throw herself down on the straw bed in the far corner of the hut. Cora found room at the other end of the same bed, and presently their young natures gave in to the urgent demands of rest. Jack sat alone watching the white faced man who tossed and turned, muttering incoherent words.
"I did not do it," he would say. "I never saw the note."
"There, you want a drink," said Jack kindly, pressing the tin cup to the trembling lips.
"But Breslin knows! Oh, if I could only find Breslin!"
"Breslin," Jack repeated, astonished.
"Yes, Brendon Breslin. He knows!"
"Brendon Breslin!" Jack said again. This was the name of the wealthy man for whom Paul Hastings ran the fast steam launch.
"Oh, my head!" moaned the man, closing his eyes in pain.
Jack realized that this remark about the millionaire might mean a sudden return of memory, and he resolved to test it further, even at the risk of giving the aching head more pain. For if the memory lapsed again it might never be awakened.
"What does Breslin know?" he asked, leaning very dose to the sick man.
To his surprise the hermit sat bolt upright. "He knows that I never forged the note. It was that sneaking office boy."
That was the story! This man had been made to believe he had forged a note. His exile on the island was because of the supposed crime!
"Of course he knows," Jack soothed. "And to-morrow he will come to see you."
But the sick man was either unconscious, or sleeping. He did not reply.
"I heard a boat," Cora whispered to Jack, as on the following morning, he rubbed his eyes endeavoring to put sight into them.
"Well, what of it?" he asked.
"It seemed to stop at this landing," replied the sister.
"The girls most likely," and he got to his feet. "How is the old gentleman?"
"Much stronger, and his mind, Laurel thinks, is clearing."
"I think so too. It is an outrage that he has been allowed to suffer here without help. That scoundrel Jones must have fixed this up."
"Did you sleep any, Jack dear?" Cora asked. "I'm afraid you had a lonely vigil."
"Oh, I got a wink or two, and my patient was no trouble. Is thatLaurel talking to him?"
"Yes, she seems overjoyed that he can talk rationally to her. But listen Jack! There are voices."
Brother and sister hurried to the door. Strangers were approaching—two men.
"Is—er—Miss Cora Kimball here?" asked one of them, in rather a hesitating voice.
"Yes, what is it?" asked Jack, suspiciously for somehow he did not like the appearance of the strangers.
"We'll do business with her," put in the taller of the two men.
Cora gave a gasp. Somehow she felt as if something unpleasant was about to happen.
"No, you won't do any business with her!" exclaimed Jack, "that is, not until you tell me first. What is it? Out with it!"
"Say, you're quite high and mighty for a young fellow," sneered the short man. "Who be you, anyhow, a lawyer? Because if you are you ought to have sense enough to know that we're detectives, after information, and if we can't get it peaceable we'll get it otherwise. How about that?"
"It doesn't worry me a particle," declared Jack easily. "Now, Cora, leave this to me," for he saw that his sister was much affected. "I'm her brother," he went on, turning to the men, "and not a lawyer, but I guess I can do just as well in this case. Now, what do you want?"
"Well, it's this way," began the tall one. "We heard that Miss Kimball might know something about the quarrel between Peters and Tony, or whatever his name was, and she might be able to put us on his track. Peters is hurt worse than we thought he was at first, and we want Tony. Does she know where he is?"
"No, she doesn't!" exclaimed Jack, before his sister could speak.
"Well, we have a tip about her and another girl being in a hut on Fern Island and being scared by a man," persisted the tall man. "No offense you know, only we thought she could help us out. The man who scared her and her friend may have been Tony."
"I—I didn't see any one—it was dark," explained Cora, before Jack could speak. "Some one approached, fell down and went away again."
"That may have been Tom!" excitedly said the short detective.
"'No, it was—" began Cora.
"Wait a minute," cried Jack. "Before she answers I want to know if you really have a right to the information. How do I know but you may be some one seeking to get evidence for a civil suit for Peters or Tony, and will drag us in as witnesses?"
"Oh, we're not," said the tall man hastily.
"Here's my court-house badge," and he displayed it. "This has nothing to do with a lawsuit. We just want to find Tony. If that wasn't him on the island who scared the girls, who was it? Surely she can't object to telling; it can't hurt her. Who was it?"
Before Cora could answer there was a sound at the door of the hut and a voice exclaimed:
"It was my father!"
There stood Laurel, and the officers shifted their gaze from Cora to her. They started eagerly forward, hoping to get the information they sought from the new witness.
"Tell us about it," urged the short man.
"No, let me, Laurel dear," interrupted Cora. "I can explain, Jack, and have it all over with. Really it's very simple."
Then, without at all going into the details of the mystery of the hermit, which information Cora felt the detectives had no right to possess, she told how she and Laurel had been in the hut and how the unknown man who so frightened, them had turned out to be Laurel's father, and that even now he was under care because of the injury he received.
"And he lived on Fern Island all this while?" asked one of the officers. "Why did he do that?"
"For his health I guess," said Jack sharply. "That doesn't concern your case against Tony, or whatever his name was, and this Peters. You've found out that my sister doesn't know anything to help you in your hunt, and you might as well skip out. This is private ground, you know."
"That doesn't make any difference to the law," growled the short man.
"Oh, yes it does," said Jack sweetly. "You're trespassers as much as any one else if you haven't a warrant, and I don't believe you have."
"No, I guess you're right," admitted the tall man, with as good grace as possible. "Come on," this to his companion, "we can't learn anything here. Let's go see old Ben."
Cora and Laurel had gone into the house. Jack did not want them annoyed again, and he wondered how the men had come to think that Cora might know something of the quarrel between Peters and Tony.
"It was probably just a guess," decided Jack. "There is certainly something like a mystery about the hermit, and—"
He interrupted his thoughts as he saw one of the men coming back.
"Hang it all! I wonder what he wants now?" thought Jack. The man soon informed him.
"I say, do you think the hermit, as you call him, would be well enough to testify in court about this case?" the detective asked.
"What case?" inquired Jack, wondering if the man suspected the reason for the hermit's exile.
"The Peters case."
"No, I don't think he would," was the young man's answer, and once more the man went to his boat.
As he and his companion started off, Jack saw the Petrel containing Bess, Hazel, Walter and Ed swinging up to the small dock. The young, folks looked closely at the two detectives.
"He may have to testify whether he wants to or not!" called the short officer back to Jack who was still watching them. "The law gets what it wants you know. This isn't the only case against Tony. He is an old offender."
"All right, have your own way about it," responded Jack easily, andhe noted that the occupants of the Petrel seemed rather alarmed.Then they hastened to disembark as the police boat chugged away, andJack ran down to meet them.