The Outdoor Girls found the boys waiting for them, and evidently as eager as the girls to begin the race.
"Well, it didn't take you very long," Frank remarked; for the boys had never ceased to marvel that girls could be on time.
"What point do you start from?" asked Conway, as they started off together. "How long is the race, anyway?" he added.
"Well," said Allen, electing himself spokesman, "we decided on a starting point about a quarter of a mile from here. You see, from a sharp turn there, there is, for about three-quarters of a mile, a course almost straight. So, you see, that makes a fairly good course."
"I should say so," Conway commented. "Why didn't you say something about it to the folks over at the hotel—you'd have had considerable of a crowd for an audience."
"Oh, we didn't want it," cried Amy, shrinkingfrom the very mention of such a thing. "I couldn't swim at all if I thought anybody was looking at me."
"Don't you make any exceptions?" asked Anita, twinkling. "Con and I don't feel like going home just yet, and Mrs. Irving has elected to be audience instead of actor."
"Oh, of course I didn't mean you!" Amy exclaimed, embarrassed at the slip. "I don't mean one or two——"
"Of course you don't," said Anita remorsefully. "I only wish I could go in with you."
They soon reached the bend of the river which Allen had indicated, the girls growing more nervous with every step.
"I tell you what you can do," said Allen, struck by a sudden thought. "You and your sister can be the judges. In case there are any ties—although, of course such a thing is improbable"—the girls refused to become indignant at this shot—"we'll need somebody to settle our dispute, and Mrs. Irving has flatly refused to interfere before this."
"All right, that will be fine—provided everybody agrees to abide by our decision. You see, we are absolutely neutral."
"Oh, we won't kick at anything you say," Frank promised. "There is not much I can sayfor this crowd. But one thing—we are good sports. All in favor of Allen's proposition say 'Aye.'"
The vote was carried unanimously, and the newly made judges were instructed by Will to "trot along to the finishing point" and wait till they saw him leading the van. Then they would know who had won the race. There was an ironic shout at this assertion and Conway's laugh came back to them as he and his sister started to obey orders.
"Well, now, is everybody ready?" Roy asked, surveying the group critically. "Suppose you girls get started. We won't jump in until one of you gets well past that jut in the shore—then it's our time to show a little speed."
"All right, we are ready," said Mollie. "Frank, when you say the word we'll start."
The girls lined up with beating hearts, waiting for the word that would relieve their taut muscles.
"One—two—three—go!" Frank counted, and the Outdoor Girls made a running dive into the water, which was deep at this point, and struck out strongly for the goal.
"Those girls sure can swim some," was Will's admiring comment.
"For girls," grunted Roy.
"Get ready now, fellows," commanded Allen. "They've almost reached the point."
"I think we gave them too big a handicap," said Frank doubtfully. "They swim like fish."
"You old croaker!" Will exclaimed. "Why, we ought to be able to beat them with twice that handicap."
"Look out, Mollie has reached the point, fellows!" Allen shouted. "Now's the time!"
Without more ado, the boys struck out bravely, determined to overtake the girls in the shortest time possible. They found it was not so easy, however, as might have been anticipated. The girls had had a big advantage and were still swimming strongly. Will and Roy began to agree with Frank that they had given them too long a handicap.
On the other hand, the girls were not so confident. The strain was beginning to tell even upon their tried young muscles. Their breath was becoming labored and the goal seemed terribly far away.
Mollie and Betty had fallen a short distance behind the other two. They had felt the tax the speed was making on their strength, and had decided wisely to save the rest of it until it was more needed then at the present.
Naturally Amy and Grace thought their friendswere giving up and marveled at it. How on earth could they have lost out so soon? Had they been more versed in races they could have answered that question themselves.
Meanwhile the boys, pulling hard, had managed to make up half the distance between them and the girls, and in sight of Betty's and Mollie's evident weariness their hopes soared high. Why, with these last two out of the running the race was as good as won.
On, on they came, hand over hand, stroke following stroke, rhythmic and strong and confident.
Betty looked at Mollie and Mollie looked at Betty, and each knew she had discovered the other's secret and at the same time recognized a rival.
Amy had come to the limit of her strength with the goal an eighth of a mile away. She knew that for her the race was over. The waters pushed her back, forced her back, seeming like some pitiless enemy bent upon her downfall.
And what of Grace? She would not acknowledge to herself that her strength was leaving her—why, she had swum as far as that many a time before—it was absurd that she should give up now. Besides, she was leading them all. With this thought she put the remainder of her waning strength into a few last desperate strokes.
Meanwhile, the boys had caught up with Mollie, and seeing this she quickened her stroke, forging ahead again. But Betty kept the same calm, steady stroke which had so deceived the boys—and the girls, too, for that matter, with the exception of Mollie.
On, on they came—almost abreast now. The boys, tired from the long chase, were resting, gathering strength for the last spurt.
The finish line had been very conveniently marked by a slender tree which had evidently been torn down in some terrific storm and now lay half on the shore and half upon the water. This, then, was their goal.
Conway was the first to see them coming. "Look, Nita!" he cried, seizing his sister's arm and drawing her to the edge of the water. "From the way they are all lined up I should judge this is nobody's race yet. That's the kind of a thing I enjoy—where there is occupation at the end. And look——"
"Look at Betty," cried Anita, interrupting him. "She can swim better than I can, and I thought I was pretty good." There was no conceit in this remark—it was simply a statement of fact.
Out on the water the girls and boys knew the time had come when they must show what was in them. Grace and Amy, with the discomfitedWill, had fallen to the rear, and the race lay between the other five. Allen was leading, and the two young judges on the bank had just decided that either he or Frank would be the winner. Then it happened! The two girls gathered all their energy, thatsplendidreserve strength they had kept so well in check—summoned every ounce of vitality they had and gave it full rein.
Their muscles, trained to outdoor life, gallantly responded to the call. They passed first Frank, then Allen, who stared after them stupidly. You see, the boys were not believers in miracles. However, they rallied their reserved strength and shot ahead until they were even with the girls again.
The goal was close before them. Now, if ever, must come the last desperate spurt. Could they make it? They must! they must! The thought kept hammering itself over and over in the girls' consciousness. They were so near now—they couldn't lose—oh, they couldn't!
And the girls were right. Anita almost fell into the water in her excitement as the four swept on, swimming as though they had just touched the water.
"Mollie! Betty!" she cried. "Go it—for the cause!"
Whether this encouragement reached the earsit was intended for is doubtful. Suffice it to say, the girls followed her instructions to the letter.
Conway stretched forward eagerly as the swimmers rushed on toward the mark. Four hands closed over the fallen tree trunk almost at the same instant—but not quite. Mollie reached the goal a fraction of a second ahead—the race was hers.
As the dripping contestants drew themselves up upon the bank, Anita and Conway rushed forward eagerly. "Mollie had it!" they cried together, and Nita added:
"I don't see how you ever did it—it was the closest thing I ever saw."
For a few seconds the swimmers were too spent even to congratulate the winner. But when they did recover sufficient breath, they fairly overwhelmed her with praises. As Roy had said, "they were nothing if not sports."
"It was lucky you did have a judge, or, I should say judges." Conway glanced apologetically toward his sister. "Otherwise I don't believe anybody would have known which of you got there first. It was as near a tie as anything I have ever seen."
As the four lagging participants in the race came up to them, rather sore and disgruntled, the young folks delicately forbore to look in theirdirection and Frank covered their coming with a remark. "I don't know how you girls ever accomplished it—I thought you were done almost at the beginning. Tell us the secret."
Mollie and Betty looked at each other significantly. "That's our secret," said Betty. Then, springing to her feet, she cried: "Let's give three cheers for the winner of the race, Miss Mollie Billette!"
The cheers were given with a will that awoke the answering echoes on the island.
Mollie flushed gratefully. "Thank you," she said. "It was only luck anyway that I happened to touch the tree a second before the rest of you."
"Don't be modest, Mollie," Roy entreated. "You beat us all fairly—especially me," he added ruefully. They laughed and Betty added whimsically: "I thought I had you up to the last, Mollie. It wasn't fair to lead me on like that."
"Well, you sure know how to swim—all of you," Conway commented admiringly. "You must do a lot of it."
"Oh, we are at it a good deal of the time," Frank agreed carelessly. "And the girls—well, they have formed a club for all sorts of outdoor stunts. You see the results."
"Oh, isn't that great!" exclaimed Anita withgenuine enthusiasm. "I love all those things, too. I wish I could belong to such a club."
"If you lived anywhere near Deepdale," said Betty warmly, "we should be very glad to have you join us."
Only too soon—for Anita and the Outdoor Girls had taken a great liking to one another—the former declared that it was time she and her big brother must be starting for home. "Dad and mother worry whenever I am out of their sight nowadays—even though Con is with me," she explained.
"Come again soon," Betty called after them.
"Will you have another race?" asked Anita.
"Yes, especially for your entertainment," laughed the Little Captain. "And we won't let Mollie win it either."
"All right, then, I'll come," Anita promised.
"Humph, we'll see about that," said Mollie, referring to Betty's last remark. "History often repeats itself, you know."
Allen sighed as they started homeward. "We won't be able to come anywhere near them now, fellows," he said. "They'll have suffrage banners hung all over the house."
The girls laughed, for after all theyhadwon through Mollie, and the taste of triumph was very sweet.
"Wasn't it grand!" cried Betty.
"The best ever!" returned Grace, as she popped a chocolate candy in her mouth.
"I'd like another such race," said Mollie, wistfully.
The week that followed the Outdoor Girls remembered as just one endless round of fun. With the exception of two days, the weather was perfect. They traveled over to town on the rickety ferryboat several times. They took the cars out of the garage for short spins about the country, and otherwise amused themselves.
Then, too, the fish in the unrivaled fishing pool proved just as agreeable as they had on that first day, and provided many delicious suppers for the young people. The only thing that served to mar their pleasure was the continued reluctance of the mysterious cave to come to light—it was as though the earth had opened and swallowed it up.
"I'm beginning to think it just never was," Grace remarked, as she contentedly munched some chocolates that Frank had laid on her altar. "Will is terribly worried about it. He thinks since he is in the secret service that he ought to investigate it."
"How can he if there isn't anything to investigate?" asked Betty. And in truth there seemed some reason in her query. "It makes me angry every time I think of it."
"Yes, the fellows say Will even talks in his sleep about the cave," Amy volunteered. "Probably they exaggerate, but I don't wonder he is all on edge about it."
"And we have to leave so soon, too," Mollie commented. "We haven't much more time to look for it."
"It doesn't seem possible we have to go back home in less than a week," sighed Amy. "I just hate to leave this place."
"To change the subject," said Betty, "I wonder what's keeping the boys. Let's get the lunch and go to meet them."
The girls agreed, and Betty ran in to get the luncheon and tell Mrs. Irving where they were going.
Before they had gone more than a hundred feet from the house they were met by the boys, who seemed in a great hurry.
"Oh, did we keep you waiting?" Roy inquired anxiously, evidently relieved to see them. "Old Will here disappeared and we had to go on a still hunt to find him."
"Yes, he still has that confounded cave in hishead. I'd given the thing up. Why worry about a thing you can't find?" Frank demanded.
"But we saw it," Will argued, relieving the girls of the basket. "And as long as we saw it, it's got to be on this island somewhere—that's a sure thing—and I'm going to find it."
"Well, I wish you luck," said Allen gloomily. "Blow a horn when you find it—we all want to be in at the death."
"If you are going to be so lazy I'll keep it all to myself," Will retorted. "That cave is somewhere on this island, and I intend to find where if I have to stay for another six months."
"Hear! hear!" cheered Roy. "That's the way I like to hear a fellow talk."
"Yes, you do," Will was beginning when Betty interrupted him.
"I'm on your side, Will," she said staunchly. "I'm not going to stop looking for the cave until we have to go home. Why, just think of the things we might find. There is probably loot in that place that is worth a great big lot of money, and in some cases they might be things that money couldn't replace. It's not a question of mere curiosity, it's a duty we owe to society."
"Speech! speech!" Roy cried again. "We have some little orator in our midst! But may I ask," he added, with exaggerated politeness, "howwe are to go about accomplishing this service to society?"
Betty's patience was at an end. "Ask something you can answer yourself!" she said shortly, and Roy was silenced.
They deposited the basket at what seemed to them an ideal spot and were about to examine the contents when a sharp cry from Mollie arrested their attention.
"Look! look!" she cried. "I've found it! Girls—boys, come here! Quick."
There was no need of urging, for they fairly flew in the direction of her voice. There she was down on her knees before an opening much lower and narrower than the one they had discovered before, but nevertheless unmistakably another entrance to the cave.
"I caught my foot in a twig," she explained, as they crowded around her, wild with excitement, "and I almost fell into the cave." So, as in the first place, the discovery had been made through an accident.
The cave seemed to have been formed in a rise of the ground—it could hardly be termed a hill—and as the young people looked inside, its black interior stretched as far as they could see.
"Who wants to go in first?" asked Amy, her tone low and awed in the presence of the unknown. "The boys will have to stoop to get in."
"I'll go," said Will, pushing his way past them, and in his tone was a ring of command. "Come on, anybody that wants to. I'm going to find what's in this place before it disappears again."
The place had a damp and earthy smell, and Amy drew back uncertainly. "The rest of you go first," she said. "I'll come—later."
Nothing loath, Mollie, Betty and even Grace pressed into the opening after Will, the boys standing aside—this last bit of self-control proving that chivalry was not all dead yet. The first temptation had been to run pell-mell after Will, regardless of girls or any other disturbing element that might be about.
However, as has been said, they allowed the girls to go in first and followed them as closely as they dared, Amy, however, going last of all.
After several feet of back-breaking progress the girls came out into another portion of the cave, where the roof was high enough to admit of an upright position. As they stood up, nerves aquiver with suppressed excitement, Will rushed back to them.
"There is another entrance at the other end," he cried. "That must be the one you and Allen found, Betty. Come over here where you canget more light," he added. "It filters through the leaves and twigs at the opening."
All this time he was leading the way to the spot that he was describing, the others following breathlessly. Once there, he grasped Allen's arm excitedly, crying in a tense voice: "Look here, old man, here is one of those bags they carried the other day—the place is full of them. Now I am going to open this one. You keep a good lookout."
"Hush!" cried Allen, and they listened, scarcely daring to breathe. From the mouth of the cave, soft but unmistakable, came the sound of voices—voices speaking in a tongue the boys had heard before. There could be no mistake—the gypsies were visiting their hiding place!
"Get back," breathed Will. "Back into the other mouth of the cave." He pushed the others before him with all his force and they obeyed without question.
They shrank back in the darkness and waited for what was to come. They might have fled, but curiosity held them chained to the spot.
Once Amy uttered a weak protest, saying: "Don't you think we had better go back?" when Will silenced her, none too gently. The moment was a critical one.
The little group of young people held their breath while the gypsies entered, silent now. In the dim light of the cave their features could not be seen, but there was something about the bent old figure of the foremost gypsy that proclaimed the leader of that other day. They were as velvet-footed as cats, and as the girls' eyes became more accustomed to the gloom they discovered that the gypsies were not hunch-backed, as had first appeared, but merely carried upon their backs packs like those others scattered about the cave. These they deposited on the floor without much ceremony and were gone before the girls and boys had fairly realized it.
The watchers stood motionless even after the footsteps had died away in the distance. It seemed as though a mystic spell had been woven about them, which, for the time, they were powerless to break.
It was Roy who first "came to life," as Mollie expressed it. "I say, what's the use of standing here?" he inquired. "Let's have a look."
"Oh, hush, please!" begged Grace, alarmed at the unrestraint of his tone. "They might come back."
"No, they won't," Will asserted, for he had suddenly acquired great dignity. "They have probably gone for another haul. In the meantime it is up to us to inform the authorities, and mighty quick, too."
"But we don't even know that itisloot, Will," Betty protested. "We ought to make sure first."
"That's easy enough," Allen commented. "Besides I've been anxious to examine the contents of that bag for a long time. Now, I'd like to see anybody keep me from it!" and he rushed over to the other side of the cave and was opening one of the bags even as he spoke.
The others crowded close beside him as he knelt on the ground, taking advantage of the meager light from the cave mouth to examine its contents. What they did see literally made them gasp. Gold and silver and strings upon strings of beads—some very valuable, others less so—and trinkets of all sorts and descriptions.
"Say, those gypsies are experts!" Frank exclaimed, awe in his tone. "I think I'll go into the business."
The girls didn't even pretend to be shocked at this—they were too taken up with their own emotions—too excited to notice such trivial remarks.
"Oh, aren't they wonderful?" cried Amy, down on her knees before the bag, and running her fingers through the brilliant mass delightedly. "How do they ever get such things?"
"That's a funny question to ask," Grace remarked. "They steal them, of course."
"But what are we going to do?" asked Betty practically. "If all the bags contain things like these, this cave is a mighty valuable place. Oh, and to think that we were the ones to discover it!"
"Well, you people can stay here and guard the loot if you want to," said Will. "But I'm going over to the mainland to hunt up a couple of ancient sheriffs—I suppose they are ancient," he added whimsically. "In stories, you wouldn't recognize a sheriff without his whiskers."
"Never mind the whiskers," said Mollie impatiently. "The thing is, somebody has to stay and guard the cave or it will disappear the way it did the other time, and you will bring the authorities over here for nothing."
"Well, of course you will have to stay until I get back," Will decided. "In the meantime, you can eat lunch. Good-bye, I'm off." And he led the way into the sunlight, which dazzled their eyes after the semi-gloom of the cave.
"But you will have to wait for the ferry," Allen called after him, "and it may not be along for some time."
"I'll take a chance," Will flung back. "I'll get there if I have to swim!"
"Maybe if you swim you can beat the ferry," suggested Allen, with a laugh.
"Say, that's a scheme! I guess I had better try it."
"Nonsense! You take the boat, old as it is."
"All right, Allen."
Somehow the lunch did not taste as good that day. Excitement had robbed the Outdoor Girls and their boy friends of appetite. They ate in a preoccupied way, eyes now on the cave so close at hand, now wandering in the direction from which the gypsies had come. If these latter should return before Will—well, then it would be time for a hurried exit on their part. They had no intention of being caught in the wolf's lair.
It was Will, however, who reached the place first, and those waiting for him could have danced with relief when they heard his voice. A moment later they caught sight of him, accompanied by two men from the town. Judging from their gesticulations, the latter were more than ordinarily excited. Incidentally, let it be recorded that neither of them, the sheriff nor his deputy, had a beard.
"Here they are!" Will cried, as he caught sightof his friends. "I thought I was on the right track. Any news since I left?"
"Not a thing," Frank answered. "The place has been absolutely deserted."
"Good," said Will, then, turning to the men beside him, added: "This is the entrance we found to-day—you see the bushes hide it completely. But there is another and a larger opening at the other end—that's the one we stumbled into in the first place."
The two men listened to his words attentively, and when he had finished set about little explorations of their own.
"You say there is another opening at the farther side?" one of them inquired, pausing in the act of pushing aside the bushes. "That probably is the main one."
"I think so," Will agreed, "but they both lead to the same place."
Satisfied on this point, the two continued their investigations. They disappeared within the cave and the young folks waited impatiently for their reappearance.
"Do you suppose they will bring the bags out here?" asked Mollie eagerly. "If they do, then we can really see what the things are like."
"I hope so," Amy stated. But Betty started to speak dreamily, saying:
"What will those poor old gypsies do when they come back and find the place cleared out?"
"They'll probably all go to the penitentiary," said Frank calmly. "The authorities will be on the lookout for them and they'll get caught all right when they do come back."
"Oh!" said Grace, horror in her tone; for so far that side of the question had not occurred to her. "It's terrible to think of sending those poor things to jail."
"Well, but they have earned it," Allen argued. "They must have been getting away with this thing for years."
"It's a wonder Aunt Elvira never suspected anything," said Mollie, frankly puzzled. "Why, she didn't even mention the gypsies."
"Probably thought the story too old to tell," Roy suggested. "We wouldn't have believed there was such a place on Pine Island ourselves if we hadn't seen it with our own eyes."
"I suppose not," Mollie admitted, and then the sheriff and his deputy emerged into the daylight once more and each brought with him a bag.
"Now we will find out how far their rascality has gone," one of the men, the elder of the two, asserted. "Perhaps you don't know it," he added, untying the fastenings of the first bag, "but you young people have done the communitya great service. People all over are complaining of stolen property, and, although we have suspected the gypsies for some time, so far we haven't been able to prove anything. However, this discovery of yours changes things considerably. Ah, what have we here?"
The sun struck full upon the brilliant mass, making it glow and sparkle like a jewel. There were other and real jewels, too, in the collection, which they were soon to discover.
"Oh," murmured Mollie, "if I could only find some trace of mother's silver service among those things!"
The detective looked up sharply. "Have you folks lost anything?" he asked.
"Oh, yes!" Mollie explained. "Mother lost her silver tea service that has been in the family for ever so many years, besides an expensive jet necklace. And, besides that, Miss Ford's father had his pet thoroughbred horse stolen."
"And one of the big stores in Deepdale was looted," Betty added. "Oh, there was tremendous excitement there for a time."
"Hum," said the spokesman, stroking his beardless chin thoughtfully. "It looks as if we might be able to trace a good many things." And he continued to explore the contents of the bag to the very bottom.
The other one was treated in like manner but nothing familiar met the watching eyes. Of course, all were disappointed, but Mr. Mendall, for such was the sheriff's name, warned the young people that it was not yet time to give up hope—there were plenty more bags where these had come from.
"But we haven't time to go through all of them now," he stated. "I simply wanted to assure myself that the things were valuable. Now that I am satisfied on that score, the best thing to do is to get the loot away as soon as possible and then set somebody to watch for those gypsies. I never saw anything like them when it comes to nerve," he added, waxing enthusiastic on the subject. "Why, I believe if you were crossing a chasm with only a board between you and eternity, and they happened to need that board for kindling wood they would pull it out from under you without the slightest compunction."
The girls laughed, but they could not help thinking that the statement was somewhat exaggerated.
"But you are not going to leave the cave unprotected until you get the loot away?" Mollie cried. "Suppose they should come back in the meantime?"
"Then they would fall into a very prettily laid trap," was the grim answer. "No, my dear young lady, we are not going to leave the cave unguarded. I'll have men watching day and night until we catch them red-handed. It is sure to come sooner or later."
The girls drew a relieved sigh. They had not liked the idea of being alone on this end of the island when the gypsies returned to find the cave empty.
Mr. Mendall rose to his feet, gripping a bag in each hand, but together they were all that he could carry. "Here, Trent, you take one of these," he ordered. "I'll take the other and, armed with proof like this, we ought to be able to convince even those skeptical people on shore." Then he added, turning to Will: "If you will keep watch for another hour we will be back with more men to relieve you."
Will readily promised, and once more the young folks were left alone.
"You people don't have to stay just because I do," said Will, meaning to be generous. "You can go home, or go in swimming, or anything else to amuse yourselves you wish, while I do the sentry act."
"Go home!" Mollie cried indignantly. "Why, how can you think of such a thing, Will, whenyou know how interested we all are? I, for one, can't do anything but wait."
"Nor I," said Grace. "They may be able to find your mother's silver, Mollie, but I'm afraid our poor dear Beauty is gone forever."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Betty argued cheerfully. "Just because they didn't sew him up in a bag and stick him in a gloomy old cave is no reason why we can't find him. We may come across him any time."
"Well, maybe," sighed Grace, and her tone was anything but optimistic.
The friendly sheriff had set an hour for the time of his absence, but long before the hour had sped he returned, bringing with him six other men and a small hand-cart.
"I don't see how you managed to get it through the woods," said Allen, referring to the hand-cart.
"Oh, we stuck to the shore most of the time," said Mr. Mendall, cheerily, "and the rest of the way there are pretty broad paths. Now for the clearing up," and he led his half dozen followers after him into the cave.
They made several trips until the crazy cart was heaped high with veritable treasure bags.
"Oh, aren't you going to let us see what is in them now?" Betty entreated, intense disappointment in her voice. "We are so anxious to know."
"Sorry," said the big man kindly, "but I'll feel safer when this loot is safely locked up on shore. We'll let you know exactly what's in them as soon as we know ourselves," he promised.
"Nothing could be fairer than that," said Allen cheerfully. "I guess since we've waited so long, we can afford to wait a little longer."
"It won't be much longer," Mr. Mendall responded. "We want you all to know how grateful we are for this assistance. Without it we would probably have been a long time getting to the bottom of things. As I said before, you have rendered a great service to the community."
And with this graceful little speech, Mr. Mendall and two of the men he had brought with him took their leave, carrying with them the precious bags, one of which Mollie so hoped would contain some, at least, if not the whole, of her mother's silver. The other four men were left behind to watch for the return of the gypsies.
"Oh, I don't know how I can wait till to-morrow," wailed Mollie, as they started homeward. "I'm simply dying to know. I think they might have opened the things while we were there.Horrid old things! The gypsies probably wouldn't be back for another two weeks, anyway, and there really wasn't any danger."
"But to think we had the luck to find it!" cried Betty, her eyes still glowing. "And after we had given it up, too. Goodness, I'm glad you had that tumble, Mollie."
"Thank you," sniffed Mollie. "Just the same," she added with a gleeful little laugh, "I'd give a great deal to see Aunt Elvira's face when she hears the story."
"I guess they will never come," said Mollie, gazing despairingly out over the water. "They must have been gone at least an hour."
"Goodness, Mollie!—an hour," echoed Betty, in imitation of Mollie's tragic tones. "Don't you know that it would take at least three hours for the boys to go over, find out what Mr. Mendall has to say to them and get back here? Remember they have to wait for the ferry," she added significantly.
"Well, I know, but if it is going to take that long, we won't get home to-day," Mollie grumbled. "Besides, I'vegotto hear the news."
It was early in the morning of the day on which the Outdoor Girls and the boys had decided to start for home. For days they had expected word from Mr. Mendall. The boys had haunted the town hoping to hear from him—but no word had come. Then suddenly Will had burst in upon the others with the great news thathe had almost run into Mr. Mendall turning a corner, and that genial man had expressed great pleasure at sight of him.
"Why, he said——" Will had reported excitedly, "he said that if he hadn't met me, he fully intended coming over to camp—that he had something to tell me that might be of great interest. And he wants us fellows to come over first thing in the morning," he had finished exultantly.
So it was that the girls were waiting impatiently for confirmation of their hopes.
"We don't really have to go home to-day," Amy was saying doubtfully. "I don't see why we couldn't have waited until to-morrow."
"It does seem a shame to leave this wonderful place," sighed Grace looking about her. "It seems to me it is more beautiful now than it ever was. September is the best time in the year, anyway."
"Why can't we stay over anyway—to-morrow is Saturday. I think we might as well finish out the week," cried Grace, seized with a bright idea. "Maybe Mrs. Irving will consent, since it is bound to be late when we do get home." She popped a chocolate in her mouth as she finished.
Betty regarded her chum pityingly.
"Thatisclever," she said. "Especially sincethe boys have taken down their tents, and we have everything packed up."
Grace looked rather crestfallen.
"Well, I suppose we couldn't," she admitted. "Just the same I would be glad of any excuse that would keep us on the island a few days longer. Oh, dear——" and she gazed about her longingly.
"Haven't we had a good time?" asked Betty, as she settled herself on the steps. "This last week has been great, too—even though we were so anxious to hear about Mollie's silver."
"Oh, and do you know what Anita said the other day?" Amy broke in suddenly. "She said she had some distant relatives in Deepdale, and that if she could fish around and get an invitation, she might see us there."
"Oh, wouldn't that be great!" said Mollie, with genuine enthusiasm.
"Yes, she's a fine girl," Betty echoed. "I only wish she lived in Deepdale, so we might invite her to join our happy little party."
"Yes, and the boys like her brother, too," said Grace. "Will says he is a fine fellow; and Will never says a thing like that unless he means it."
"Do my eyes deceive me?" cried Betty, springing up and pointing toward the mainland, "or is that the good old Pine Island dreadnaught steaming majestically from the harbor? Tell me some one—am I right?"
"You are!" cried Grace, dramatically. "That noble ship could be no other."
"Oh, do stop your nonsense," cried Mollie impatiently. "Are you sure that's the ferry?"
"Since it is the only apology for a boat that ever comes this way," Grace remarked lazily, "I guess it must be."
"Oh, Grace, don't tease," warned the Little Captain, in an aside. "Can't you see how worked up Mollie is? No wonder she is excited—the news may mean a lot to her."
Grace glanced at her chum and saw that Betty had spoken the truth. Mollie's hands were clenched tight to her side, crimson flamed in her face, and her foot tapped nervously on the ground.
"Oh, they'll never get here," she was saying over and over again. "Can't the old ferryboat get up any steam at all?"
"Perhaps we might help tow it in?" Betty suggested, striving to break the tension. "I think we could paddle lots faster in the canoes."
"Goodness, I would almost like to try it!" Mollie exclaimed. "I think they might get something modern on the lake—something real modern—around the eighteenth century."
"Oh, isn't she sarcastic," said Amy, putting an arm about her friend and patting her hand gently. "Never mind, Mollie, all things come in time."
Of course she was right, even Mollie had to admit it.
At the end of one of the longest half hours the girls had ever spent, the rickety little ferryboat scraped against the dock, and they ran down to meet the boys. The latter almost fell out of the boat, careless of what any one might think. At the first sight of them the girls were convinced their news was of the best.
"Oh, oh, hurry!" cried Mollie. "I thought you would never get here. Oh, you have something wonderful to tell us—I know it!"
"You bet we have!" cried Allen. "We have the very finest news you ever heard."
"Oh, what is it?" the girls cried in unison, and Mollie added pleadingly: "Don't keep us waiting any longer, boys, please."
"All right," Will agreed; for he was as anxious to tell as the girls were to hear. "Come to the house and we will tell you the whole story."
"But did you get them?" Mollie demanded. "I don't see why you have to wait till you get to the house to tell me that."
"You can see by their faces they have, Mollie," Betty assured her. "You had better not interfere—they will tell the story their own way, whatever you say."
By this time they had reached the house and called to Mrs. Irving to come and hear the news.
She joined them in a moment, and Will began.
"Well, you see," he said, "in the first place, Mr. Mendall didn't want to raise our hopes until he found out definitely whether anything there belonged to us."
"Yes," broke in Mollie quickly.
"Don't interrupt," Will warned her. "You might sidetrack me or something."
"Oh, Will, don't be a goose!" cried his sister. "Go on."
"I'm not a goose," he declared with dignity, "and I expect to go on if I am given half a chance."
He paused for a reply, but as none was forthcoming and as only threatening looks met him on every side, he continued hurriedly.
"Well, as I was saying," he went on, "Mr. Mendall did finally succeed in getting the information he wanted. Then yesterday afternoon I happened to meet him——"
"Yes, we know all about that," said Betty, dancing with mingled excitement and exasperation. "Please get to the point."
"Since you insist," Will answered gravely."The fact is, Mollie, that all your mother's silver is there—even down to the little sugar bowl."
"Oh!" gasped Mollie, and for a moment she could say no more.
Then the flood gates of speech opened, and her questions poured forth.
"Oh, Will! isn't that wonderful?" she cried. "I didn't dare really to believe till this very moment. Are you sure everything is there—not a thing missing? The creamer and teapot? And oh, Will!" she grasped his arm beseechingly, "did you find the necklace?"
Will looked evasive.
"Why, you see——" he was beginning, when Frank interrupted him.
"The necklace is probably gracing the swarthy neck of some fair gypsy damsel," remarked the latter, rather flippantly. "Here we offer you a whole silver service, and you're not satisfied."
Mollie looked from one to the other of her two tormentors in pathetic bewilderment.
"Please,please!" she begged. "Mother'll be wild when she hears about the silver. But oh, I do want that jet necklace almost more than anything in the world! Don't tease me any more, please."
At this appeal, Will's heart softened, and, witha quick movement, he drew his hand from behind him, disclosing to four pairs of incredulous eyes the precious jet necklace.
"Here it is," he announced triumphantly.
Mollie grasped the heirloom with a little cry of joy. Then she threw her arms about Betty's neck, and began to laugh hysterically.
"Don't mind me," she gasped, as the boys looked on mystified. "I—I can't help it! I'm just so—so happy!"
Betty patted her chum's shoulder, soothingly.
"Now, see what you've gone and done," she accused poor Will.
"I—I didn't know——" he was beginning, but he seemed destined not to finish his sentences that day.
Mollie, a creature of moods, withdrew herself from Betty's arms and favored the promising young detective with an ecstatic little hug that amazed and delighted that young gentleman immensely.
"I say, Mollie, do it again," he pleaded, while the other three boys hastened to demand their share of the reward.
But Mollie had caught Grace about the waist and they were engaged in what might be called a cross between a Virginia reel and an Indian war dance.
When they were forced to stop from sheer lack of breath, the volcanic Mollie flung herself upon the steps, and beamed upon them.
"And that's not all," Will said, and glanced instinctively toward his sister.
Grace started, and leaned forward beseechingly.
"Will?" she breathed.
"Yes," he continued, answering her unspoken question, "we found Beauty."
The girl's eyes opened wide at this new disclosure, and Grace grasped her brother's arm imploringly.
"Oh, Will, where?"
"He was found by one of the farmers near the town. Looked as though he'd broken away from whoever'd had him. The farmer saw he was a thoroughbred, and guessed at once that he had been stolen. Luckily for us he was an honest man."
"Darling old Beauty," murmured Grace, tearfully. "Oh, wait till dad hears!"
"I guess he'll get a welcome, all right," Will agreed gleefully. "Poor old Beauty! I saw him myself this morning."
"Mr. Mendall says," Allen volunteered, "there are traces of a good many other things from Deepdale. We'll probably have a triumphanthome coming. And they have captured the gypsies and put them in jail."
"Oh, oh, and to think we did it!" sighed Amy, contentedly.
So joyful were they at the outcome of their detective work, that the long journey to Deepdale was almost forgotten. It was Mrs. Irving who brought them to their senses.
"I'm afraid," she said, "that if we don't start pretty soon, Deepdale won't see us until to-morrow morning, and that will never do. Come, girls, get ready."
"Oh, I don't want to go home," wailed Amy, as they rose to follow instructions.
"But just think what we will have to tell them when we get there!" said Betty, and the thought lent wings to their feet.
Once more the Outdoor Girls and their comrades assembled on the wharf, waiting for the ridiculous little ferryboat that had been the butt of their jokes during the summer. Now that they were going away, however, the sound of the shrill little whistle, as it panted up to them, seemed somehow strangely typical of their life on the island, and they felt an unexpected throb of home-sickness.
"We'll have to come back to it some time," Betty said. "I love the place."
"I wonder if there are any more mysteries floating around loose," said Roy, pausing for one last backward glance over his shoulder. "If there are, I'm going back."
But Allen seized him and drew him aboard.
"Come on," he cried, "we're off!"
The four girls linked arms, as they gazed back at the familiar bungalow.
Suddenly Mollie chuckled irrepressibly.
"Oh, girls," she murmured softly, "I must be on the spot when Aunt Elvira hears the news."
The little ferryboat steamed away from the dock, carrying with it our happy Outdoor Girls, to whom we must once more wave a reluctant farewell.