The Motor Girls in the Mountains: or, The Gypsy Girl's Secret

Belle agreed after a little more urging, and the girls put on their hats and sallied forth, leaving Nina in charge of Aunt Betty, with strict injunctions not to show herself at any of the windows.

At a distance of a mile and a half from Kill Kare ran a single track, narrow-gauge railroad that served a number of tiny towns scattered through that region. It was a leisurely, go-as-you-please affair, and, as a railroad, was considerable of a joke. The rolling stock consisted of a couple of locomotives that had seen better days and a string of dilapidated cars that had been discarded on other roads. Time schedules were honored in the breach rather than in the observance, and one or two trains a day each way wheezed along at their own sweet will.

But it served as a short cut to Milford, and the girls chose to go by way of it on that account, and also because it ran through a sort of gorge that cut off the hot rays of the sun.

But if it was delightful overhead, as much could not be said for the walking underfoot. The ties were split and irregular, and the slag that lay between them was trying to the feet.

“I feel sorry for any stranded actors who ever have to walk these ties,” complained Belle.

“I think it’s smoother on the outside of the track than where you’re walking,” suggested Cora. “Suppose you try it.”

There was a switch in the track just at that point, and as Belle tried to step over the rail as Cora had suggested, her foot slipped and was caught in the frog.

She would have fallen to her knees if Cora had not caught and steadied her.

“Did you hurt yourself?” asked Bess.

“Only scraped my ankle a little,” answered her sister. “But I may have ruined a perfectly good shoe.”

She tried to pull her foot from the frog, but found that she could not.

“Pull a little harder,” urged Cora.

Belle tried again, but with no success.

“The sole seems to be caught in a spike or something,” she explained.

Bess gave a little scream.

“Oh, hurry, hurry,” she cried. “Suppose a train should come along!”

And just at that instant they heard a long shrill whistle from up the track.

CHAPTER XXVIII

WAYLAID

A scream broke from all the girls, and Belle nearly fainted.

They could not see more than a hundred feet up the track, for at that point the road curved round a bluff. But they could see a column of smoke rising high in the air and the humming of the rails grew steadily louder.

Cora was pale as death, but she rose to the emergency and took command.

“Run up the track as fast as you can, Bess,” she directed, “and wave your hands to the engineer to stop.”

Bess was off at once and Cora turned to Belle.

“We have plenty of time, dear,” she said soothingly, “if you do exactly as I say. Keep your foot perfectly still while I unlace your shoe.”

By a great effort of will, Belle did as she was told, leaning her hand for support on Cora’s shoulder as the latter knelt at her feet.

Bess rushed madly up the track and around the curve, and her eyes dilated with horror as she saw the train, now only a few rods away.

She screamed wildly and waved her hands frantically.

Her voice could not be heard above the rattle of the train, but fortunately her signals were seen and the engineer shut off the steam and put on the brakes.

With a great hissing and clamor the train swung round the curve and bore down upon the girls.

Cora had been working desperately, but her fingers seemed to fumble with the laces as though she were in a nightmare. But she steadied herself and finished her task. Then she sprang to her feet and pulled with all her might, Belle aiding her, and the foot slipped from the shoe, while the girls fell back against the side of the gorge, well clear of the track.

The train had slowed rapidly, but when it came to a full stop it was not more than twelve feet from the abandoned shoe.

The engineer and fireman jumped down and rushed forward. A glance at the shoe told the whole story.

“That was a narrow escape, ladies,” remarked the grizzled engineer. “It’s lucky I saw those signals. I hope that you’re not hurt.”

“More scared than hurt,” answered Cora.

“I don’t wonder you were scared,” he replied; “but you were mighty plucky just the same. Lots of girls would have lost their heads and just screamed or fainted. I’ll get this shoe out of the frog for you.”

He handed the shoe to Belle, and he and the fireman clambered back in the cab. The train was a freight, for which the girls were grateful, as they were spared the embarrassment of a trainful of passengers crowding around.

They rested a little after the train moved on, for the strain, though brief, had been very great. Then Belle resumed her shoe.

“Don’t you think you had better go straight home?” asked Bess solicitously.

“Oh, I guess not,” replied Belle, who was getting back some of her color. “Besides, we’re much nearer to Milford now than we are to Kill Kare.”

“Perhaps we had better go on,” judged Cora. “The boys will bring us back in the car, and if we should miss them, we’ll hire a rig of some kind to get home in.”

“I guess Bess will need it more than any of the rest of us,” said Belle.

“I never ran so fast in my life,” answered Bess. “If exercise is all that is needed for reducing, I ought to have lost pounds,” and she smiled, although the smile was tremulous.

They were lucky to find the boys still waiting at the garage, and the surprise of the latter at their appearance was only equalled by their consternation at the danger Belle had run.

“You girls need a guardian,” said Jack severely, “and Walter and I elect ourselves unanimously for that position.”

“It’s a mighty hard job,” sighed Walter. “Our hair will be gray before our time.”

“Don’t tell Aunt Betty about this adventure,” warned Jack. “She must be on the verge of nervous prostration already, and this would just about cap the climax.”

They made the purchases for which Cora had come, and drove rapidly back to Kill Kare.

They found that Paul had returned some time before.

“Did you find out anything?” asked Cora eagerly, as she stepped from the car.

“Not such an awful lot,” answered Paul. “The gypsy camp was certainly stirred up about something – little knots everywhere jabbering away in that outlandish lingo of theirs. Didn’t seem as keen on grafting from visitors as usual. I suppose of course that Nina was the storm center. They’re pretty badly roiled, I imagine.”

“But how about Higby?” asked Bess.

“I saw him, too,” replied Paul. “Jostled against him, excused myself in my well known irresistible manner, and got into conversation with him. He’s staying over at Wilton on a two weeks’ vacation. He’s used up nearly a week of it now. Doesn’t seem to be very keen about going back, though. Knocks his job to beat the band. I guess he’s sore on the management.”

“Probably the real reason is that they’re sore on him,” said Jack.

“I noticed the manager looked at him very suspiciously the day that Cora lost her purse,” observed Belle.

“Perhaps he’s near the end of his rope and knows it,” said Paul. “He was quite anxious to know how far we were here from the Canadian line. He may be getting ready to emigrate.”

“He’d be a great loss to the United States,” sniffed Bess contemptuously.

“We could probably stagger along without him,” drawled Walter.

“Did he have anything to say about Nina?” asked Bess.

“Only in an offhand way,” returned Paul. “He remarked that there seemed to be a great hullabaloo among the gypsies, and that he understood one of the girls was missing. But I noticed that he kept looking sharply all around as though he was hoping to see some one.”

“Well, there’s just one thing to do,” remarked Cora, “and that is to keep Nina close inside the house until the coast is clear. Higby will be gone in another week, and the gypsies never stay long in one place. And in the meantime we may get word from Roxbury that will tell us what the next step must be.”

The following night was the one set for the celebration of Cora’s safe return, and the weather was all that could be asked for. The spread itself was a great success. The girls had decorated the lawn with strings of Chinese lanterns on lines that swung from tree to tree, and the tables were abundantly spread with food that both in quantity and quality roused the enthusiastic appreciation of the men from the sawmill, who composed the major portion of the guests. Mr. Morley made a little speech and Mr. Baxter came out of his shell long enough to offer a witty toast to Cora and the other girls. The boys sang some rollicking college ditties, and the phonograph, brought out on the porch, discoursed such music as was not commonly heard in that remote region. It was a jolly, sparkling evening that they all enjoyed, and it was late when the gathering dispersed with three rousing cheers for their hosts.

The days flew swiftly by until a week had passed. Nina had fallen readily into the life at Kill Kare and the girls had become greatly attached to her.

The danger that threatened her seemed to be vanishing. The gypsies, after unavailing search and inquiries that had reached as far as the bungalow, had departed. Paul had motored over to Wilton and found that Higby had left the place where he had been boarding, and the presumption was that he had returned to Roxbury.

Under these circumstances the restrictions that had held Nina to the house seemed unnecessary. Besides, she felt the confinement more on account of the outdoor life to which she had been accustomed.

Soon she ventured into the woods round about, though seldom going far from the house. But as her sense of security increased, she occasionally went farther. And one afternoon, when her temerity had taken her far beyond her usual limit, she turned a bend in the path and came face to face with – Higby!

CHAPTER XXIX

THE PLOT

The girl screamed and tried to run, but Higby was too quick for her and seized her roughly by the arm.

“No, you don’t!” he cried. “You’re not going to get away from me as easily as all that, after I’ve been watching you for days. You’ve got to listen to what I have to say.”

“Let me go!” cried the girl, pulling away from him.

“Go where?” he leered. “To jail? You’ll go there mighty quick if I care to have you go. All I have to do is to notify the police at Roxbury and you’ll be behind the bars in forty-eight hours.”

The girl turned white as the awful vision that had haunted her for a year past seemed to be assuming form and substance. She had no doubt that he could do as he threatened.

“What do you want with me?” she asked in a trembling voice.

“Now you’re getting a little more sensible,” he remarked. “Sit down on that bank and I’ll tell you what I want.

“Those folks you’re staying with are pretty well off, aren’t they?” he inquired.

“How do you know where I’m staying?” she asked.

“That’s my affair,” he said brusquely. “I know you’re staying at a place they call Camp Kill Kare. Quite a change from the gypsy camp,” he sneered. “You’re flying high these days. But that’s neither here nor there. Those boys and girls there seem to have plenty of money. There’d be quite a haul there in the way of cash and watches and diamond rings and other jewelry, I suppose.”

She grasped his meaning and drew away from him in horror.

“You don’t mean to say that you’re thinking of robbing the house!” she exclaimed.

“You’re pretty squeamish for a jailbird,” he sneered.

“I’m not a jailbird!” she cried passionately. “I never did a dishonest thing in my life!”

“They say differently at Roxbury,” he taunted.

“Yes!” she blazed out. “But why? Because you told a falsehood about me! You know you didn’t see me steal that purse!”

“Let’s cut this short,” he said impatiently. “I’ll put the whole thing in a few words. I’m not going back to Roxbury. I need money, and need it bad! Those folks at Kill Kare have plenty of it, or what can be turned into money, and I want you to help me get it.”

“I never will!” she cried defiantly.

“It’s either that or jail,” he said menacingly. “And I know that you won’t choose jail when you come to think it over. I’ll give you a day to make up your mind. You be here at this same time to-morrow, or it will be the worse for you.”

She pleaded with him to renounce his purpose and leave her in peace, but he laughed at her and went away with a parting threat.

Nina retraced her steps to the house in a state of great agitation. She felt sure that Higby was in desperate earnest and would denounce her to the authorities if she should fail to do his bidding. But she would have died before helping him to rob her benefactors.

What resource then was left? Flight! Once more to become a fugitive – to live under the ban of the law – to fear any moment the touch of an officer’s hand upon her shoulder.

The castle of dreams that she had been building in the last few happy days seemed ready to dissolve in mist.

She tried to assume her usual cheerful manner when she entered the house, but the girls noticed at once that she was pale and anxious.

“What’s the matter, Nina?” asked Bess. “You’re as white as though you’d seen a ghost?”

“I hope you haven’t run across any of the gypsies!” exclaimed Cora, in quick apprehension.

“Nothing like that,” Nina asserted.

“Nor Higby?” asked Belle.

Nina faltered, and at this the others jumped to their feet in great excitement.

“Do you mean to say that that cur is lurking around here yet?” demanded Cora.

Nina broke down then, and told them all the details of her meeting with Higby.

The girls were aghast at the plan to rob the house.

“He’s getting along fast,” remarked Belle bitterly. “He’s graduating from the sneak thief to the burglar class.”

“I wonder what we ought to do,” said Bess. “It’s too bad the boys are away to-day. I suppose the police ought to be told about it.”

“There’s nothing yet to tell,” said Cora. “He’d simply deny that he ever suggested anything of the kind to Nina. It would be only her word against his, and she has no witnesses. Besides, for revenge, he’d blurt out all about that Roxbury matter.”

At this moment the maid announced a visitor, and Nina vanished as Mr. Baxter entered the room and greeted the girls cordially.

“Sort of an Adamless Eden here, I see,” he laughed, as he noted the absence of the boys.

“Yes,” smiled Cora, “they’re out for a spin to-day by themselves. But I expect that they’ll be back before long.”

“I’m rather sorry they’re not here,” said Mr. Baxter, “as I wanted to talk over a matter in which you’re all interested. I refer to the young lady who has been staying with you for the last week or two.”

For a moment the sickening fear came to Cora that Mr. Baxter might be an emissary from the Roxbury authorities.

“Well, what about her?” she asked warily. “She’s a dear friend of mine who is paying me a little visit.”

“But not a very old friend,” said Mr. Baxter quietly, “since two weeks ago she was telling fortunes in a gypsy camp.”

A cry broke from the lips of the girls, and they looked at each other in great trepidation.

“Now, now,” said their visitor with a genial smile, “she hasn’t the slightest thing to fear from me. In fact, I think I’m going to prove one of the best friends she has.”

“Oh,” breathed Cora in relief, “I hope you will! The poor girl is sadly in need of all the help she can get.”

“I have been looking for her for a long time past,” said Mr. Baxter. “At least I feel reasonably sure that she’s the girl I’m after. And my only object in finding her is to restore her to the home and relative that she ran away from in a fit of youthful anger. I suspected that I had found her in Nina the gypsy girl. But now that I have seen her dressed in civilized clothes and compared her with the pictures in my possession, I feel practically sure of it. Still, I won’t know positively until I bring her and my client face to face.”

“O,” cried Cora, “is your client – ”

“There, there!” Mr. Baxter checked her. “No names, please. If I am right in my identification you’ll know all about it before long.”

“I think I can name him now,” smiled Cora.

“Never jump at conclusions,” advised Mr. Baxter. “But what I called for especially to-day was to warn you that your house was to be robbed.”

“So we heard only a few minutes ago,” replied Cora. “Thank you very much for the warning, though.”

“So she told you?” remarked Mr. Baxter with a gratified smile. “That’s good. I am glad that she has defied that fellow’s threats. I was concealed near by and heard the whole conversation.”

“What do you think we ought to do?” asked Cora.

“I think,” replied Mr. Baxter, “that the girl had better meet Higby to-morrow and pretend to fall in with his plans. I will be on hand and hear all he says. In the conversation that goes on between them, Higby may say something that reveals her innocence and his guilt in that Roxbury affair.

“She can arrange to let him into the house at night, which is evidently the part he wants her to play in the theft. We’ll be waiting for him when he comes, and we’ll give Mr. Higby the surprise of his life.”

CHAPTER XXX

BROUGHT TOGETHER

The plan met with the hearty approbation of the girls, and they accepted it, subject to the approval of the boys.

And when the latter reached Kill Kare and learned what was afoot, they agreed to it enthusiastically. They all felt toward Higby as they would toward a particularly noxious reptile. And this latest attempt to make the victim of his falsehoods a criminal brought their feeling of detestation to the highest pitch.

“Oh, won’t it do me good to get a whack at him!” gloated Jack.

“He’ll be as safe with me as if he were on a battlefield,” remarked Walter.

“We’ll fix him!” declared Paul.

Nina had been told that Mr. Baxter had overheard the conversation with Higby, but had been given no hint that the detective was looking for her to restore her to her home.

At the appointed time on the following day, she met Higby, whose face lighted up with an evil smile as he saw her appear.

“Thought better of it, did you?” he remarked jeeringly. “I knew mighty well you would.”

“It’s vile of you to make me do a thing like this,” protested Nina.

“You weren’t so particular at Roxbury,” he taunted.

“Why do you harp on that?” she cried furiously. “You know I didn’t steal that purse. I believe you did it yourself.”

“Suppose I did?” he grinned mockingly, in a way that was itself a half admission. “I deserve credit for being smart enough to make somebody else the goat. But let’s get down to business. I want you to tell me all about the way the rooms are laid out and where the cash and jewelry are kept.”

She gave him an idea of the plan of the bungalow, and promised to leave a door open from the back leading into the kitchen. He was to come a little after midnight.

That afternoon and evening, life took its ordinary course at Kill Kare, as far as external signs were concerned. They knew that Higby was probably watching the house from the shelter of the adjoining woods, ready to take flight at anything which might indicate the betrayal of his plans.

Not that he anticipated betrayal. He was confident that the deadly fear that Nina had of jail would keep her his accomplice, even though an unwilling one. But one could never be too careful when engaged upon such a venture as his.

He noted the girls sitting on the porch with their sewing, or picking flowers in the garden, saw the boys go motoring and return, heard the party singing songs after supper on the steps of the veranda. There was nothing to excite suspicion in the slightest degree and he exulted as he thought of the rich haul he expected to make.

His jubilation would have been less keen, however, had he noted the care with which Joel loaded his favorite revolver and had he seen three men who slipped into Kill Kare under cover of the darkness.

One of the three was an officer who had been brought over from Milford to make the expected arrest. The other two were Mr. Morley and Mr. Baxter.

The botanist had been told of the robbery that had been planned, and had been invited to be “in at the death.” But he had not received the slightest hint of the presence of Nina in the house. The detective did not care to risk a possible disappointment. Then, too, he had a sense of the dramatic, and schooled himself to wait.

As for Nina herself, she kept carefully out of view, as she always did when there were visitors at Kill Kare.

Eleven o’clock was the usual hour of retiring at the bungalow, and no deviation from the custom occurred on that night. A few minutes after eleven the lights were out, and Kill Kare seemed to be peacefully sleeping.

The door at the rear had been left unlocked, as arranged. The members of the party, all fully dressed, waited in different rooms the outcome of the drama.

“He’ll probably stop in the dining room to look over the silver,” remarked the officer, Thompson by name, to Mr. Baxter. “Do you think we’d better nab him then?”

“Don’t be in too much of a hurry,” advised Baxter. “He’ll probably look for his biggest haul in the sleeping rooms upstairs. Give him plenty of rope and let him hang himself. Besides, the farther he gets into the heart of the house, the harder it will be for him to escape in case any of our plans go wrong.”

The girls were seated in the dark in their own rooms, their hearts beating fast with excitement.

“I suppose we’ll be only lookers on,” remarked Bess in a low tone. “The men will do all the work.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” replied Cora. “We may come in somewhere.”

“What was it you put in that cedar chest you’re sitting on?” asked Belle curiously.

“I’ll tell you later,” replied Cora. “And, girls, stay right where you are, whatever happens.”

In the dark she busied herself with something at the entrance of the room.

Shortly after midnight, Higby slipped in through the rear door. He had taken off his shoes and was in his stocking feet.

It was pitch dark within, and he moved with such feline stealthiness that he had reached and stolen up the stairs before the watchers were sure that he was not one of themselves.

The jewelry of the girls was the chief object that he had in view, and he went to their rooms first. But as he stepped inside, he tripped over a wire that extended from one side of the door to the other, at the height of a foot, and fell headlong with a crash that jarred the house.

Cora reached into a chest, and clutching an acetylene lamp that was already lighted, turned its blinding glare right into Higby’s eyes.

“Don’t dare to move!” she commanded.

Higby, not knowing how many weapons were turned upon him, and unable to see anything in that pitiless blaze, lay perfectly still. The next instant he was in the grasp of the men and boys, who handled him none too gently and jerked him to his feet.

“Trapped by a woman!” he growled, as he saw the wire over which he had fallen and the lamp that Cora still held.

“You’re trapped all right,” declared Thompson, as he snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

“And in for a good long term in the State Prison,” added Mr. Baxter. “We have you dead to rights, Higby, and you haven’t a show in the world. But you may be able to have some years cut from your term if you help now to undo a wrong.”

“What is it?” muttered Higby, his craven soul clutching at straws.

“That theft at Roxbury that you charged Helen Holman with committing,” Baxter reminded him. “You stole that purse yourself, didn’t you? Speak up now. Nothing but the truth will help you.”

“Yes,” admitted Higby, sheepishly.

“I thought as much,” remarked Baxter. “Take him away, Thompson.”

There was a wild hubbub after the officer had driven away to Milford with his prisoner. All the boys and girls were laughing and talking at once.

“Who is this Helen Holman you were talking of?” asked Mr. Morley.

A sudden hush fell on Cora and the others, as they listened for Mr. Baxter’s answer.

“A girl that has lately been leading the life of a gypsy,” replied Mr. Baxter. “She’s a very interesting character. Miss Kimball,” he continued, turning to Cora, “will you ask Miss Holman to step here for a moment?”