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

“Look, that sailboat has capsized!” she exclaimed. And she pointed to a small sloop that had jibed and gone over in a sudden squall. As the motor girls and boys looked they saw a girlish form clinging to the rounded side of the craft, her bright red bathing suit making her a conspicuous figure against the dark hull.

CHAPTER XIII

THE LIGHTHOUSE MAID

Jack Kimball had always said that his sister Cora only needed an opportunity to prove that she could think quickly in emergencies, and could demonstrate that she was courageous. Cora had done this on other occasions, and now at the sight of the overturned boat, and the figure of the girl clinging to it, there came the chance for Cora, as one of the motor girls, to prove that her ability in this direction had not lessened.

Without another word Cora turned her car down a slight slope that led to the sandy beach. It was a perilous road, rather too steep to negotiate in a heavy car, but Cora had seen that it was encumbered with sand that would act as a brake.

“Where are you going?” gasped Eline, gripping the sides of the seat until her hands ached.

“Down to rescue that girl!” explained Cora, pressing her lips tightly together. She was under a nervous tension, and she needed all her wits about her.

“But in the car–the water – ” faltered Eline.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to run my car into the bay. There’s a boat on shore–a rowboat–this was the quickest way to get down to it. Can you row?”

“Yes, Cora, but – ”

“You may have to!”

The auto plunged down the steep, sandy slope to the beach. The others in the motoring party had brought their machines to a stop, and were gazing in wonderment at Cora.

“What are you going to do?” cried Jack. “Come back! We’ll get her, Cora!”

But Cora paid no attention. She had reached the beach, and quickly shut off the power.

“Come on!” she exclaimed to Eline, leaping out.

The two raced over the sand to where a light rowing craft was drawn up. There were oars in it, and Cora knew she and Eline could launch it. The girl on the overturned sailboat was making frantic gestures and calling:

“Hurry! Hurry!”

“Her boat must be sinking,” gasped Eline, as she and Cora reached the rowboat.

“It can’t be that,” answered the motormaid, with a quick and critical glance at the sailboat. “Probably there is some one else with her, who is in danger. She isn’t in any particular trouble that I can see. She must swim!”

By this time Cora and Eline had the boat in the water. The stern was still on the pebbly beach.

“Jump in!” called Cora. “I’ll shove off!”

“But you’ll get your feet wet!”

“What of it? As if I cared!” Vigorously Cora pushed off the boat, and managed to get in, though not without getting rather wet. Then, seizing one pair of oars, while Eline took the others, they rowed hastily out to the capsized craft. Other boats were now hastening to the scene of the accident, but Cora Kimball was the first to reach it. Jack and the other boys and girls had left their cars on the main road, and were racing down the beach.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came!” gasped the girl on the sail boat. “I’m holding him, but I can’t seem to pull him up here. He’s so heavy!”

“Who is it?” gasped Cora. She was rather out of breath.

“My little brother Dick. He got in the way of the boom, and the main sheet fouled. That’s why I jibed. I’d never have done it by myself. We both went overboard, and I grabbed him. I got up here, but I can’t pull him up. Oh, please help me!”

“Of course I will,” cried Cora.

“Then pull around on the other side, and you can lift him into your boat. I can swim ashore.”

Directed by the girl on the sail boat, Cora and Eline sent their craft around so that they were opposite the half-submerged deck, which was now perpendicular in the water. There they saw the girl holding above the surface of the bay the head of a boy about seven years old. He seemed as self-possessed as though he were on shore, and calmly blinked at the rescuing girls.

“He’s so fat and heavy,” cried the girl in the bathing suit.

“I’m very fat,” confessed the boy in the water, calmly.

Indeed he did seem so, even though only his head and part of his shoulders showed. The wind was rising a little again, having subsided somewhat after capsizing the boat. The surface of the bay was broken into little waves, and they splashed into the face of the fat boy. But he did not seem to mind.

It was easier than Cora and Eline had thought it would be to get him in the boat, for the buoyancy of the salt water aided them, as did the rather large bulk of the boy himself, it being a well known fact that stout persons float much more easily in the water than do thin ones.

“Give yourself a boost, Dick!” directed the girl in the bathing suit, to her brother. He did so with a grunt that would have been laughable under other circumstances, and soon he was safe in the other boat, very wet, but otherwise not hurt.

“Did you swallow much water?” asked Cora, anxiously.

“Nope,” was the sententious answer.

“I guess he’ll be all right,” remarked his sister. “If you will kindly row him over there, I’ll swim in,” and she pointed to the lighthouse.

“Do you live there?” asked Cora, gazing at the tall stone tower. With its high lantern, which glistened in the sun, it stood on a point extending out into the bay, just behind some menacing rocks that jutted far out into the water in a dangerous reef that the light warned mariners against.

“Yes, Dick and I live there,” answered the girl. “My father, James Haley, is keeper of the light. My name is Rosalie.”

“And you look it,” said Cora, brightly, as she noted the damask cheeks of the bathing girl.

“Oh, thank you!” came quickly.

“Won’t you get in this boat–I don’t know whose it is–I just appropriated it,” said Cora. “There is no need of your swimming.”

“Oh, I want to. I’ve gone clear across the bay, though Daddy had a boat follow me. I’ve won prizes swimming. No, I’ll just swim over.”

“Will your brother be all right with us?” and Cora looked at the small dripping figure in the boat.

“Oh, yes, Dick is as good as gold. He’ll do just as you tell him. I guess he was rather scared when he went over. But he can swim, only I was rather afraid to let him try this time.”

“What about your boat?” asked Eline.

“She will stay here. The anchor fell out when she went over, so she won’t drift. I’ll get one of the men to tow her ashore and right her. She’s a good little old tub. She’s capsized before.”

With that the lighthouse maid made a graceful dive and was soon swimming alongside Cora’s boat. The latter and Eline now rowed to the lighthouse, the girl in the water following, and the autoists on shore breathing more freely.

“Wasn’t that splendid of Cora!” cried Belle.

“Just fine!” declared Bess.

“Sis was right on the mark!” exclaimed Jack, with pardonable pride. “I wonder who that girl in the red suit is?”

“She’s some swimmer; believe me!” declared Norton in admiration.

“She is that,” agreed Walter.

“Say, it’s going to be no joke to get Cora’s car up that hill of sand,” declared Ed, glancing back to it.

“We can pull her up with ropes if we have to,” said Jack. “I wonder where our bungles are, anyhow? Notice that ‘bungles’–patent applied for!”

“I fancy those over there,” remarked Mrs. Fordam, pointing to two that stood somewhat removed from a group of cottages. “Yes,” the chaperone went on, “I can see Aunt Susan in the door of one waving to us.”

“Me for Aunt Susan, then!” cried Jack. “I hope she has something to eat!”

“Eat!” gasped Belle. “Do you boys think that Aunt Susan is going to cook for you?”

“Yes, wasn’t that the arrangement?” inquired Jack, blankly.

“Indeed not!” was the quick answer. “You boys are to do your own providing.”

“Well, we can do it!” spoke Walter, quickly. “And, mind, don’t ask us for some of our pie and cake.”

“Don’t worry,” remarked Bess, with a shrug of her shoulders.

The little accident in the bay had not attracted much attention. Several who had run down to the water’s edge, now that they saw the two rescued, strolled away again, while the boats that had started toward the capsized one veered off as the occupants saw the one containing Cora move away, and noted the girl swimming.

Of course Cora and Eline could have reached the lighthouse much quicker than Rosalie Haley had they desired, but Cora was a bit diffident about rowing up to meet a strange man with his rescued son, leaving the daughter swimming out in the bay.

“We’ll just keep with her,” whispered Cora to Eline, nodding toward the swimmer, “and let her do the explaining.”

“Yes,” agreed Eline.

They rowed on for a time in silence, the recently submerged boy saying nothing. Then Cora called to Rosalie:

“Won’t your father be worried?”

“I don’t believe so. He knows both of us can swim.” She talked easily in the water for she progressed with her head well out, being, in fact, an excellent swimmer. “Besides,” she went on, as she reached forward in her side stroke, “poor Daddy has other things to worry about. His sister has disappeared–our Aunt Margaret.”

“Disappeared!” echoed Cora.

“Yes, gone completely. And not under the most pleasant circumstances, either; but Daddy believes that it’s all a mistake and will be cleared up some day. But he is certainly worried about Aunt Margaret, and he’s had the authorities looking all over, but they can’t find her. So that’s why I know he won’t worry over a little thing like this. He’s got a bigger one,” and she swam on.

Cora wondered where she had heard that name–Margaret–before. She was sure she had, and under peculiar circumstances, but so much had been crowded into the last few minutes that her brain did not act quickly. It was a puzzle that she reserved for future solution.

CHAPTER XIV

SETTLING DOWN

When Cora, leading by the hand dripping Dick Haley, met his father, the keeper of the light, she exclaimed impulsively:

“I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before!”

It was rather a strange greeting under the circumstances, considering that Cora had just helped little Dick from the water. But the lighthouse keeper did not seem to mind it.

“I’m sure I can’t remember it, miss,” he made answer, “and I’m counted on as having a pretty good memory. However, the loss is all mine, I do assure you. Now what mischief has my fat boy been getting into?”

“It was not his fault, I’m sure,” spoke Eline.

“Indeed not,” echoed Cora. “Your daughter’s boat upset and we went out to help her. There she is!”

Cora pointed to a dripping figure, in a red bathing suit climbing up on a little pier that led to the beacon. Following the disclosure made to Cora, as Rosalie swam beside the boat, they had reached the shore. Mr. Haley had been off getting some supplies for the lighthouse and so had not witnessed the accident. The first intimation he had of it was when he saw his dripping son being led up by Cora and Eline.

“Upset; eh?” voiced the keeper of the light. “Well, it has happened before, and it’ll happen again. I’m glad it was no worse, and I’m very much obliged to you, miss. But I don’t ever remember seeing you before–either of you,” and he glanced at Eline.

“Oh, I’m sure you never saw me!” she laughed “I’m from Chicago.”

“Chicago!” he cried, quickly. “Why, I’m from there originally. I used to be a pilot on the lakes. But that’s years ago. Me and my sister came from there. But Margaret–well, what’s the use of talking of it?” and the worried frown on his face deepened, as he went down to meet his daughter, telling Dick to go up in the living quarters of the light to get on dry clothes.

Cora was sure she had seen the light keeper before, but, puzzle her brain over the matter as she might, she could not recall where it was. And the name Margaret seemed to be impressed on her memory, too. It was quite annoying not to be able to recall matters when you wanted to, she thought.

“But I’ll just think no more about it,” mused Cora. “Perhaps it will come to me when I least expect it.”

The lighthouse maid and her father met, and in a few words she told of the accident. He sent a man to tow in the overturned boat.

“But you are wet, too!” he exclaimed to Cora, as he noted her damp skirts and soaked shoes.

“Oh, that’s nothing!” said she. “I pushed off the boat. I don’t know whose it is, by the way.”

“It belongs to Hank Belton,” said the keeper. “He won’t mind you using it. Do you live around here?”

Cora told how they were coming to the bungalows for the summer.

“Ah, then I’ll see you again, miss,” spoke Mr. Haley. “I can’t properly thank you now–I’m that flustered. This has upset me a little, though usually I don’t worry about the children and the water, for they look after themselves. But I’m fair bothered about other matters.”

“I told her, Daddy,” broke in Rosalie. “About Aunt Margaret, you know.”

“Did you? Well, I dare say it was all right. I can’t see why she did it? I can’t see! Going off that way, without notice, and those people to make such unkind insinuations. I can’t understand it!”

He walked up and down in front of the little dock. Rosalie looked as though she would enjoy another plunge in the bay. Cora glanced over to where her friends awaited her in a group on the beach. Eline was looking at dripping Dick going up to get on dry garments.

“But there!” exclaimed Mr. Haley, “I mustn’t bother you with my troubles. I dare say you have enough of your own. But do come over and see us; won’t you?”

“Yes, do!” urged Rosalie.

“We will,” said Cora. “But now I must get back to my friends.”

“You had best take the boat and row over,” said the light keeper. “It’s shorter that way. You can leave her just where you found her. Hank won’t mind.”

“I’ll row you over,” offered Rosalie.

“No, indeed, thank you, we can do it,” spoke Cora. “We are anxious to get settled in our bungalows, so I think we had better go now. We will see you again,” and with a smile and a nod, she and Eline went down to the boat, which had been left at the lighthouse float, and got in. A little later they were with their friends.

“Well, Cora, you certainly did something that time!” remarked Jack.

“And you didn’t lose any time,” added Ed.

“Weren’t you frightened?” Belle wanted to know.

“Not a bit–not even I,” answered Eline, “and I don’t know much about the water.”

“Who was she? What happened? How did you get the boy out? Who keeps the light? Tell us all about it!”

Cora held up her hands to ward off the avalanche of questions, and told as much as was necessary. She did not mention having spoken about thinking she had met the keeper of the light before, nor about the insistence of the name Margaret. Nor did it enter into Eline’s brief added description of the events of that strenuously-filled half-hour.

“Well, here comes Aunt Susan,” remarked Mrs. Fordam. “I think she couldn’t wait any longer to learn all about what happened, and I don’t blame her. I’ll soon turn you girls over to her charge.”

“Oh, but you’ll stay with us to-night!” exclaimed Cora.

“Yes, and I’ll go back home in the morning on the train. Really I have enjoyed this trip very much, and I would like to stay longer, but I can’t. Perhaps I may come down during the summer to see you.”

“Please do,” invited Cora.

Aunt Susan proved worthy of her name, a home-like lady, with an easy manner, that made one feel comfortable at once. She simply “oozed” good things to eat, as Jack said, and Jack ought to know. Some of the young people she knew, having met them at Cora’s house. The others were presented to her.

“Well, the bungalows are all ready for you,” she went on, after explanations had been made. “I expect you’re tired and hungry and – ”

“Wet,” interrupted Jack, with a look at Cora. “But then you can’t make rescues from the briny deep without getting at least damp.”

“I should like to change,” spoke Cora, glancing at her soaked shoes.

“Then come on,” said Aunt Susan. “I guess you boys know where your quarters are,” she added. “There is plenty to eat – ”

“Hurray!” cried Jack, swinging his hat, and clapping Walter on the shoulder.

“Perhaps you’ll all have supper together,” suggested Mrs. Chester.

“If the girls let us,” added Ed.

“Oh, I guess we will,” assented Cora. “That is, if you get my car up. I didn’t think, when I ran it down, that the sand was so deep.”

“We’ll look after it–don’t worry, Sis,” said Jack.

While the girls and the two ladies went on to the larger bungalow, the boys managed, not without some work, to get Cora’s auto up to the road again. Then it was run along, with the others, to the big bungalow, where there was a shed that would serve as shelter for the machines.

The boys carried in the girls’ trunks and suit cases, and transported their own to their quarters. Then began a general “primping” time, as the supper hour approached.

“Oh, girls, isn’t this just delightful?” exclaimed Cora, as she and the others entered what was to be their home for the summer.

“That window seat is a dear!” declared Belle, as she proceeded to “drape” herself in it.

“And see the porch hammocks,” called Bess, “slumping” into one.

“What a fine view of the bay we can get from here,” added Eline, as she stood in the bow window, a most graceful figure. Cora, in spite of her damp shoes, had made a hurried trip through the bungalow to arrange, tentatively at least, as hostess, the different sleeping apartments.

“Oh, it’s just the dearest place!” exclaimed Eline. “I know we will simply love it here.”

“Now just put off your things, get comfortable, wash and comb if you like, and then the boys will be over to supper,” said Mrs. Chester, when the girls had made a tour of the place.

“Gracious! Here they come now!” cried Belle, as she saw Jack and his friends tramping over the space that separated the two bungalows.

The girls fled precipitately, for they had begun to lay aside their collars and loosen their hair. Then the two ladies took charge of matters, in the kitchen at least. The boys were bidden to remain out on the piazzas until invited in, and they sprawled in various attitudes in chairs or hammocks.

Then the girls came down; there was noticed throughout the bungalow various savory odors, at which the boys grinned in delight. There was the clatter of plates, and the jingle of silver–more expansive smiles. There were looks of pleased anticipation. Then came the clanging of a bell.

“Supper!” announced Mrs. Chester, appearing in the door wearing a huge apron.

“That’s us!” cried Jack.

“Oh, I’ve just thought of it!” exclaimed Cora in a low voice to Eline, as she walked beside her to the dining room.

“Thought of what?”

“The name ‘Margaret!’”

CHAPTER XV

LAUNCHING THE “PET”

“Pass the olives again, please!”

“Aren’t the lobsters delicious?”

“Are you referring to us?” Ed bristled up, and looked rather aggressively at Belle.

“If the net fits – ” she murmured.

“Net being the sea-change from shoe,” spoke Jack.

“Please pass the olives,” came again from Bess, waiting patiently. “I’ve only had – ”

“A dozen!” interrupted Ed.

“I have not!”

“Children!” rebuked Cora.

They were all at the supper table–I prefer, since we are now at sea, which makes so many equal–to call the late meal supper, in preference to dinner. No fisherman ever eats a “dinner” except at noon, and it was now well on to six o’clock. And they were making merry, were the motor maids and boys.

Mrs. Chester had made bountiful provision for the party and they were now enjoying it thoroughly. Over in the bungalow of the boys were ample supplies for days to come, though such as would not keep had been laid in sparingly.

“You girls certainly look nice enough to – ”

“Eat, were you going to say?” asked Eline, who was particularly “fetching,” to quote Norton, whereupon Jack wanted to know what it was she was expected to “fetch.”

“Well, at least nibble at,” remarked Walter. “Some of you don’t look as though you would stand more than a nibble,” and he looked particularly at Bess.

“Oh, but there is so much to do,” sighed Cora, as she thought of the arrangements for the night. “We really must hurry through supper and straighten things out. Then we can rest to-morrow.”

“It doesn’t take you long to straighten out,” said Ed, with a jovial smile. “One minute you’re rescuing fat boys from the salty ocean, and the next you look as charming as–er–as – ”

“As a mermaid,” finished Walter.

“How do you do it?” Norton wanted to know. “This is the first long motor trip I’ve taken, and I’m wearing the collar of your brother, with the necktie of Ed. I can’t seem to find a thing of my own.”

“It is all done by system,” said Cora.

“Hear! Hear!” cried Jack, English fashion. “Sis will kindly elucidate the system.”

“Finish your supper!” ordered Cora. “We want you boys to help carry around some of our trunks. We’re going to place them differently.”

“More work,” groaned Ed.

But the meal was finally over and the boys put the trunks in the rooms of the various girls. Mrs. Chester had engaged the wife of one of the Cove fishermen to come in to help with the house-work, so the two chaperones could leave the dishes to her while they helped the girls settle their apartments. The bungalow was of ample size, and they were sure to be comfortable.

The boys did some “straightening-out,” but it was more honored in the breach than in the observance. When they wanted a thing they “pawed” over their suit cases until they found it, letting the other articles settle where they might.

They were all out on the porch, talking and laughing over the events of the day, Cora being called upon to recount her experiences in making the rescue.

“Cora,” spoke Eline softly, when some of the motor boys and girls had voted for a stroll down to the beach, “what was it you meant when you said you recalled the name Margaret?”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you spoke of that. Do you remember the name of the woman I found in the garage the night of the fire?”

“Mrs.–Mrs. – ” Eline paused.

“Mrs. Margaret Raymond,” supplied Cora.

“Yes, that was it. What of her?”

“Well, the light keeper has a sister who is missing. Her name is Margaret, too. She is the aunt of the girl in the red bathing suit.”

“Does anything follow from that?”

“Suppose I told you that as soon as I saw Mr. Haley, the keeper of the light, I was sure I had seen his face before?”

“Ah!” Eline was quick to grasp at a suggestion.

“Of course I have never seen him before,” went on Cora. “But his sister must bear some resemblance to him; don’t you think, Eline?”

“I should say so–yes.”

“Then take the name Margaret–the fact that his sister is named that–also that the strange woman who ran away from the office, and whom I found in our garage, was named the same–the fact that Mr. Haley’s sister is strangely missing, and under some sort of a cloud–which would also cover Mrs. Raymond–and you see the coincidences; don’t you?”

“Indeed I do!” declared Eline. “Oh, Cora, if it should turn out that they are the same person!”

“It would be remarkable. But even if it were so we could not help him. We could give him no clue as to his sister’s whereabouts now.”

“Well, we must find out what his sister’s last name is. He has invited us over there, and I think I can speak to him on the subject. It is worth trying, anyhow. Suppose we go and join the others.”

“Shall you tell them?” asked Eline.

“Not yet.”

They found the rest of the party down on the shore of the cove. The moon was up and the picture presented was an attractive one. Two points, jutting out into the ocean, came near enough together to make a sort of strait that led into the bay.

Opening out of the big bay was a smaller cove–called Sandy–from the fine extent of bathing beach it afforded. It was just back of this beach that several cottages had been put up, also the two bungalows occupied by our friends.

The point on which the lighthouse was built was somewhat in the shape of a shoe, and on the farthermost extremity were black rocks, extending, as I have said, out in a dangerous reef from which the flashing light warned vessels. The point was built up with fishermen’s cottages, or modest houses, and around the bay was located the village of Sandy Point, a small settlement, but one that was gradually growing as the summer colonists found out its beauty.