The Motor Girls on the Coast: or, The Waif From the Sea

“Well, I like that!” cried Jack, sitting up. “As if we fellows could dress in a band-box.”

“Oh, your place is plenty big enough–you know it is!” retorted his sister. “And you know when you and I went down to look at them you said you liked the smaller one best, anyhow.”

“Did I?” inquired Jack, slightly bewildered.

“You certainly did!”

“Now will you be good?” laughed Walter.

“We girls need more room anyhow,” was the opinion of Bess, calmly given.

“Nothing more to say,” declared Ed, sententiously. “I know how many dresses each of you is going to take now. Slay on, Macbeth!” and he closed his eyes resignedly.

“Everything will be ready for us at the bungalows,” went on Cora. “Aunt Susan has promised to see to that.”

“How about–er–grub–not to put too fine a point upon it?” asked Jack.

“The refreshments will be there,” Cora answered, pointedly.

“Oh my! Listen to that!” mocked Ed.

“We’ll have to put on our glad rags for dinner every night, fellows–notice that–I said dinner! Ahem!”

“Please be quiet!” begged Cora. “Now we’re at the bungalows,” and she consulted her list.

“Come out for a swim” cried Walter, imitating a seal, and barking like one.

“I mean in imagination,” added Cora. “There, I think that is all. Our trunks and suit cases are nearly packed, Cousin Mary will be here later to-night, ready to start in the morning with us. Our route is all mapped out, and I guess we can count on a good time.”

“Are the bungalows near the beach?” asked Eline.

“Almost on it,” answered Cora. “At high tide and with the wind on shore the spray comes on the porches!”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Belle, apprehensively. “I know – ”

“You’re going to learn to swim, you promised!” cried Cora. “Can anyone think of anything else?”

They all could, and promptly proceeded to do so, a perfect babel of talk ensuing. Some forgotten points were jotted down and then, as it was getting late, the young people dispersed, promising to meet early in the morning. It had stopped raining when they went out, so there was no need to hunt up umbrellas.

“Cora,” said Jack, a bit solemnly, as he was helping her lock up for the night, “was there anything about that strange woman that you didn’t tell us?”

“Not a thing, Jack, except that I discovered her in the stairway that time I screamed, and I let you think it was a rat. Then I told her to hurry in the house without being seen. I saw she was in no condition to talk then. That was all.”

“Good for you, Sis. You managed it all right. But I would like to get at the bottom of her trouble.”

“So would I. Perhaps we may–later. Good-night,” and they separated.

The next day was all that could be wished for. The sun shone with revived and determined energy, as it always seems to after a rain, when it “has been deprived of its proper set the night before,” to quote Jack. The roads had dried up nicely, and everything pointed to a most delightful trip.

An investigation by Jack in the daytime proved that the fire had done very little damage to the barn. A close inspection seemed to indicate that spontaneous combustion of some gasoline carelessly left in an open can had caused it. Jack’s car was not enough scorched to be more than barely noticeable from the rear.

Cousin Mary had arrived on time, and helped Cora get ready. Jack ran the three cars out of the stable before his friends arrived, and had them ready for the passengers. Gasoline and oil tanks had been filled the day before, and the motors gone over to insure as perfect service as possible. Tires had also been looked after.

Jack and Ed were to go together in the former’s Get There, Cora, in her big maroon Whirlwind would have Eline as her passenger, the tonneau being taken up with luggage.

Norton Randolf, who owned a small, but powerful car, had invited Walter to go with him, Norton being included in the invitation to go “bungaloafing by the sea,” as Jack characterized it. He was really good company after one had become used to some of his mannerisms. The Robinson twins, of course, would use their own car. The girls, including Cora, were no longer amateur motorists, but could drive their machines with a skill equal to that of the boys.

Norton arrived soon after Walter and Ed, coming up in his car, which was kept in a public garage.

“Where is your cousin going to ride, Cora?” asked Belle, as they hurried the final preparations. “I don’t see how you can get her in your machine, with those trunks and things in the tonneau.”

“That’s so!” exclaimed Cora, with a tragic gesture. “I knew I had forgotten something. I had down on my notes ‘Cousin Mary–where?’ and I took it to mean where would I put her to sleep. I see now it was where should I put her to ride.”

“Let her come with us!” exclaimed Bess. “You can take one of our suit cases in your car, and that will leave plenty of room for your cousin.”

“I guess that’s all we can do now,” said Cora. “Oh, dear, I thought I had fixed everything!”

“Don’t fuss, my dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Fordam. “It will be all right. Your car is so big that I’m really afraid of it.”

So it was arranged, and when a few other forgotten matters had been settled, Cora gave the last instructions to the care-taker of the Kimball home, and blew a blast on her auto horn as a signal to start.

“At last we are off!” sighed Eline, as she sat beside Cora. “It seems as if time moves slowest of all at the end.”

“It really does,” agreed Cora. “I’m glad we are able to start. When I saw that blaze in the garage–Oh, my dear, you’ve no idea how my heart sank. It almost stopped beating.”

“I can imagine so. What a pretty suit you have,” and she glanced admiringly at Cora’s smart motoring costume. It was a light biscuit shade, of a material that would stand wear, and not show the stains of travel.

“Your own is fully as pretty–perhaps a little too nice,” returned Cora. Eline had made rather elaborate preparations for her Eastern trip, as regarded dress. But she was within good taste, for she ran much to harmonizing shades–perhaps too much so.

“Are we going at this snail’s pace all day?” cried Jack to his sister. “Can’t you move faster?”

“We want the good people of Chelton to have a chance to admire us,” called Belle.

“Shall we pass her?” asked Norton of Walter. “My car can easily get ahead of the Whirlwind.”

“Don’t do it,” Walter advised. “I don’t believe Cora would like it. And really, she arranged this affair, so she ought to make the pace.”

“All right,” assented the new lad, and he had the good sense to see the wisdom of the advice.

They passed the Robinson home, the twins waving and being waved at, and then the four autos turned out on the main road that led into a glorious country–a country doubly glorious this morning because of the rain of the night before.

They were really on the road at last, and as Cora glanced down it, her gloved hands firm on the steering wheel, she could not help wondering if it was this road that the strange and perhaps misunderstood woman had taken when she fled so silently from the Kimball house. Also Cora wondered if she would ever meet her again. The chances were against it and yet —

“Really so many strange things have happened to us on some of our auto trips,” she explained to Eline as they talked it over, “that I would not be surprised if we did see her again–and perhaps – ”

“Even that Nancy Ford!” supplied Eline.

“Oh, that would be too much to expect, my dear!” said Cora, with a laugh. “We turn here!” she added, “just hold out your hand, Eline.”

“Hold out my hand?” Eline asked, wonderingly, as she stretched it straight out in front of her. “What for?”

“No, I mean out at the side of the car,” explained Cora. “It is a sign to whoever is coming behind that you are going to turn. It prevents accidents.”

“Oh, I see,” and this time the Chicago girl did it properly.

CHAPTER V

A FLOCK OF SHEEP

“What a delightful road!”

“Isn’t it splendid!”

“Too perfect!”

It was Cora who made the first remark, Eline who answered and the Robinson twins who chorused the third. The highway was so wide, and there was so little traffic thus early in the morning, that the two cars could run side by side. On high gear with the gas throttled down they made scarcely any noise, so that conversation was possible.

“I don’t know what I have done to enjoy such pleasure,” said Mrs. Fordam.

“Are you really enjoying it, Cousin Mary?” inquired Cora.

“Indeed I am, my dear! I wouldn’t have missed it for a good deal. I never knew before how delightful it was to be chaperone to such nice girls.”

“I’m sorry I can’t stop steering long enough to pass you a chocolate candy!” exclaimed Bess. “Belle, you will have to do it for me. Such compliments!”

“No, I really mean it,” declared Mrs. Fordam, earnestly.

“Wait until the boys begin to cut up,” warned Cora.

“Oh, I know Jack of old,” returned the chaperone. “He can’t do anything very bad.”

“They seem to be hatching up some sort of a plot back there,” remarked Eline, as she looked to the rear where Jack’s gaudy red and yellow car was careening alongside the Beetle– that owned by Norton. It had been so christened because of its low, rakish appearance, and the fact that it was painted a dead black. It was not a pretty car, but it had speed, as Norton often boasted.

“Oh, I’ve no doubt they will do something,” conceded Belle. “But we can do things too!”

They ran on for some distance, this stretch of the road being particularly fine. They were under a perfect arch of maple trees, which, being planted on either side of the road, mingled their branches over the centre, affording a delightful shade. It was needed, too, in a measure, for the sun, creeping higher and higher in the blue sky, was sending down beams of heat, as well as light. There was gentle wind, which was accentuated by the motion of the machines.

“Is it hard to learn to drive a car?” asked Eline, as Bess and Belle combined in telling Mrs. Fordam something of the excitement of the previous night, she not having arrived until it was over.

“It is, my dear, at first,” Cora explained. “Then it all seems to come to you at once. Why you’d never believe it, but first I used to imagine I was going to hit everything on the road. I gave objects such a wide berth that everyone laughed at me. But I did not want to take chances. Now watch!”

She speeded up a little, and turning to one side seemed to be headed straight for a tree.

“Oh!” screamed Eline, and Bess and Belle echoed the cry.

“There!” cried Cora, as she skillfully passed it, far enough off for safety, as even the most careful motorist would admit, but near enough to make an amateur nervous. “You see what it is to have confidence,” she added to Eline.

“Yes,” was the somewhat doubtful comment.

“Cora, dear, I wouldn’t take those risks if I were you,” rebuked her Cousin Mary, gently.

“Oh, it wasn’t a risk at all! I had perfect control. I just wanted to show Eline what practice will do. I am going to teach her to drive.”

“I’ll never learn!” was the nervous protest.

The road narrowed about a mile farther on, but before the cars lengthened out into single file again, Belle asked:

“Where are we to lunch, Cora?”

“I planned on stopping at Mooreville. There is a nice, home-like restaurant there. We’ll be in Churchton soon, and we can stop there and ’phone in to have a meal ready for a party of nine.”

“That would be a good idea.”

Churchton was soon reached, and Jack found he had a puncture. While he stopped to put a new inner tube into service Cora got the restaurant on the wire and made arrangements.

“Now will you please be good?” Jack begged of his car, when the tire had been pumped up again. “This is a bad beginning for you, old Get There.”

“If it makes good you can tack on another title when we’re in Chelton again,” suggested Ed.

“What?”

“Call it Get There and Back.”

“I believe I will!” laughed Jack. “Sorry to delay you,” he said to the others, for they waited for him after Cora had finished telephoning.

“It’s all right,” spoke Walter, good-naturedly. “We have plenty of time.”

Once more they were under way. The road was now not so good, and in places positively bad. But they knew they would soon be on better ground, and on a fine highway leading into Mooreville.

Later they were on a narrow thoroughfare, so narrow, and with such deep ditches on either side, that it would take no small skill to pass another vehicle in certain places. Then, as Cora made a turn, the road ahead being hidden by a thick growth of trees, she saw straggling along the highway a big flock of sheep, tended by a man and two beautiful collie dogs. The fleecy animals straggled and spread out over the whole road.

“Oh dear!” Cora cried, as she slowed down. “Isn’t this provoking! We can’t get past them.”

“Why not?” asked Eline.

“Because they are so–so straggly. They take up the whole road, and if I tried to pass I’d be sure to run over one of them. Oh! what a shame!

“We’ve got to take it slowly!” she called back to the twins, who were just behind her. “I can’t take a chance of threading my way through all these animals.”

“This is tough luck!” complained Jack, as he saw what the trouble was.

The herder looked up stolidly, puffing on a short pipe, and called to one of the dogs, who leaped off to drive back into the flock a sheep that showed a propensity to lag behind.

“Can’t you try to pass them?” asked Eline. “I’m sure you could do it.”

“I’d rather not,” answered Cora.

“Don’t you dare!” cautioned Bess, who heard what was said.

“But we’ll be late for lunch–and it has been ordered,” wailed Belle. “And I’m so hungry!”

Cora resolved on an appeal.

“Do you think you could drive your sheep to one side, and keep them there until we passed?” she asked the man. “It will take us only a minute to shoot by.”

“It would be a risky undertaking miss,” the herder answered respectfully enough. “Sheep is queer critters. You think you’ve got ’em just where you want ’em, when, all to once they break out, and if one goes the others follow.”

“Yes, I know!” Cora was genuinely distressed. “But we simply must get past!” she exclaimed. “Can’t you think of a way?” She looked ahead at the sheep. There were a hundred or more–quite a flock. The herder took off his cap and scratched his head reflectively–looking the while meditatively at his pipe.

“It might be done–it might,” he murmured.

Cora brought her car to a stop.

“Oh!” cried Bess and Belle together, and Bess, who was driving, jammed on the foot and emergency brake quicker than she ever had in her life before. As it was her fender struck the rear tires of Cora’s car.

“Oh dear!” wailed Eline, clutching at Cora, while Belle, recovering from her momentary fright, had the presence of mind to raise her arm in the air as a signal for the boys to come to a halt.

“Cora Kimball!” cried Bess. “What did you stop so suddenly for, and not signal us? We might have broken your car!”

“I’m sorry. But I just thought of something, so didn’t think of signalling. Any damage done?”

“No, but there might have been.”

“All right then. Will you please come here?” she called to the man. “I want to speak to you–that is, if the sheep will be all right.”

“Yes, miss, the dogs will look after ’em,” and, calling a command to the intelligent collies, he advanced toward Cora’s car.

CHAPTER VI

JACK IS LOST

“How many sheep have you?” asked Cora.

“Well, there’s just a hundred and ten, miss. I had a hundred and ’leven, but one died on me,” the man explained.

“What is this–a class in arithmetic?” inquired Jack, who had left his car and come up to where his sister sat in hers.

“Now, Jack–please – ” she said.

“And how much farther does this road go before – ”

“The road doesn’t go–it stays right here!” chuckled her brother.

“Stop it!” she commanded in such a tone that he knew she meant it.

“How far before there is a cross-road into which you could turn your sheep?” went on Cora, fixing the man with what Jack said afterward was “a cold and fishy glance.”

“A matter of four mile, miss.”

“I thought so. Then we’d have to tag along behind you all that distance, losing time, and – ”

“To say nothing of swallowing all that dust!” exclaimed Belle, pointing to a cloud of it that hung over the flock of sheep, which the dogs were skillfully herding. “Oh, it’s awful!”

“That’s why I’ve thought of a way out,” spoke Cora.

“Then out with it, Sis!” exclaimed the irrepressible Jack. Once more his sister turned her attention to him–this time it was only a look, but it sufficed.

“Do you see that field over there?” asked Cora of the sheep man, pointing to one rich and luxuriant in deep, green grass.

“Yes, miss, I see it,” and he pointed with the stem of his pipe to be sure he made no mistake.

“Yes. Well, now, could you take your sheep in there, and keep them–er–quiet–until we passed in our autos. You see it is impossible for us to get by on the road, for even if you did get the animals to one side one might leap out, under the wheels of a car and there would be an accident.”

“I see, miss. The sheep might be killed.”

“Yes, and we’d be wrecked,” growled Jack. “What’s the game, Sis? If we stay here much longer that dinner will be eaten by some one else.”

“Be quiet Jack–please! Now could you not drive your sheep into the field?” she asked. “Then we could get past. Of course we might turn around and go back to some other road, but it would delay us. Could you?”

Certainly no mere man could withstand the appealing glance thrown at this humble sheep herder. He capitulated.

“I guess I could do it, miss. But what if the man who owns this field was to see me? You see I’m a stranger in these parts–I’m only hired to drive these sheep to the man that bought them.”

“I see. Well, if we gave you a dollar or so, you could give it to the man who owns that pasture in case he made objection. It would be worth two dollars to get past.”

“More,” Jack framed with his lips, but he did not speak aloud, being a careful and frugal youth.

“The sheep could not eat much grass in the short time you drove them into the field, kept them there until we got past, and then let ’em out again; could they?” she asked, with a winning smile.

“No, miss, I guess I can do it. Sheep is queer. They is easily frightened, and maybe it would be the best way. Why, only last night, when I had turned ’em into a pasture they near ran off on me.”

“Why?” asked Jack, rather idly.

“Well, you see it was this way. I had ’em all settled for the night, a matter of several miles back, when a woman came running along the road. She was takin’ on somethin’ bad, cryin’ like, and mutterin’ ‘Kin I ever find her? Kin I ever find her?’ You see – ”

“Was that what she said?” cried Cora excitedly.

“She did, miss!”

“What sort of a woman was she?” With her eyes Cora signalled to Jack to remain quiet. She knew the girls would.

“Well, I couldn’t rightly say, miss, as it was so dark right after the storm. But before I knew what she was doin’ she had come into the pasture that I hired for the sheep over night, and run toward a hay stack. She stumbled over a lamb, fell down, the dogs barked, and it took all I could do to quiet them sheep.”

“What became of the woman?” asked Cora, making a motion with her lips to signify that she thought her the same mysterious one who had been in her barn.

“Well, she was real sorry for having made me so much trouble, and it was trouble. She said she didn’t see the sheep in the field, and she was as scar’t as they was, I reckon. I asked her what she was doin’ out and she said looking for a girl.”

“A girl?” asked Jack, sharply.

“Yes. I ast her if it was her girl–thinkin’ she might be a farmer’s wife from around there, but she didn’t say any more. Only she kept sort of moanin’ like, an’ sayin’ as how her life was spoilt, an’ how if she could only find a girl–well, I couldn’t make much head or tail of it, an’ anyhow I was worried about the sheep, for one got torn on a barbed wire fence. But I was sorry for the woman. I ast her if she intended to spend the night out-doors, and she said yes.

“I couldn’t hardly stand for that–for by her voice I could tell she wasn’t a common kind. So I ast her if she had any money. I was goin’ to give her some myself, so she could get a night’s lodging anyhow. She put her hand in her pocket–sort of absent-minded like, and then she got a surprise, I guess, for she pulled out a silver purse, that she didn’t seem to expect to find there. I could see it plain for I was lightin’ my pipe just then to quiet my nerves.”

“A silver purse?” cried Cora.

“Ahem!” coughed Belle, meaningly, and Cora, looking at her, understood there was something to be told–later.

“Yes, a silver purse,” went on the man. “She didn’t appear to know she had it, and when she opened it and saw some bills and silver, she was more struck than ever. She said something about not knowing it was there, and then she cried out: ‘Oh, it must have been them dear girls! God bless ’em!’ That’s the words she used, miss. I remember ’em well.”

The others had left their cars now, and come up to hear the recital. The boys looked meaningly at one another, and the girls exchanged glances.

“What happened next?” asked Cora.

“Why, nothin’ much, miss. You see the woman had money though she didn’t know it, which I took to be queer. But it wa’n’t none of my affair. She gave me good-night and went back to the road, walkin’ off in the direction of the town. I guess she got lodging all right–she could go to a hotel with that money. It was more than I carry. But the sheep was all right by then, quieted down, so I left ’em to my dogs and crawled under the hay. I slept good, too.

“But now, miss, I want to oblige you an’ your friends, so I’ll just drive my animals into that field. I don’t believe the owner will care.”

“Well, take this in case he does,” said Cora, passing over a two-dollar bill. “Get ready now, people!” she cried gaily. “We’re going to move!”

With the aid of the beautiful collies, who seemed to be able to do everything but talk, the herder drove his sheep through the lowered bars of the pasture.

Then, with the bars up again, so they could not come out, the man waved for the auto to proceed, swinging his cap at the boys and girls in token of good will. Cora’s Whirlwind speeded up, followed by the others, and soon they were on the broad, level highway that led to Mooreville.

“Cora, I simply must speak or I’ll – ” began Bess.

“Don’t burst!” cautioned Jack, running his car up alongside his sister’s. The road was wide enough for three for a short distance.

“Wasn’t that the same woman who was at your house?” went on Bess.

“I’m sure of it,” assented Cora. “Only I didn’t want to speak of it before him, Poor creature! What a plight to be in! No place to stay!”

“But that silver purse!” cried Bess. “And the money – ” She stopped suddenly and looked at her sister. “Belle Robinson, you never gave that to her!” she cried.

“Yes I did,” admitted Belle. “I slipped it into the pocket of her cloak. I could see she needed it.”

“‘Bread upon the waters,’” quoted Cora. “I was wondering where she got it when the man mentioned it. To think of hearing about her again. Girls, I’m sure she must be, in some way, tragically mixed up in our lives. We are destined to meet her again, I’m sure.”

“Well, I can’t afford another silver purse,” said Belle, smiling. “It will have to be plain leather next time.”

“We’ll all chip in,” declared Jack.

“Well, we must make time now,” asserted Cora.

They found a rather anxious restaurant keeper looking down the road up which they came, but he became all smiles when he saw the merry party, and soon they were sitting down to a plain, but well-cooked and substantial meal. And they all had appetites, too!

“We will spend the night at the Mansion House, in Fairport,” spoke Cora, consulting a list after dinner. “I will telephone for rooms.”

“Perhaps you had better let me,” suggested Cousin Mary, and she made the arrangements over the wire.

Once more they were under way again, and all went well until Jack shouted that his tire had gone flat and would have to be pumped up.