CHAPTER VIII
SUNSET'S INSPIRATIONS
"Now, you see, we will have more trouble to reach her. That man knew we were in the cave, and he also knew Mary and old Reda were behind the next rock. He must have followed us all the way down the hill!" This was Cleo's almost breathless pronouncement, made directly she and Grace reached the porch of the cottage. Lalia had declined their invitation to rest a few minutes before getting into more comfortable attire, so she was not in the conference.
"You could see he was related to the old woman," replied Grace. "His eyes and that kinky hair made him look so much like her."
"They are surely natives of the same country," commented Cleo, "but they may not be related to each other. Oh, I'm so disappointed; I felt sure we could get to the girl's house this afternoon. And did you hear her courage voiced in that decided threat? That she would go away, and that it, whatever it was, is lost forever? Could they be holding Mary for ransom?"
"Kidnapped, do you mean?" gasped Grace.
"I don't know what I do mean, but I sort of wish Uncle Guy were home. If we run into too much danger he would surely know how to rescue us," concluded Cleo.
"Don't let's tell Madaline. She might be too nervous, and I guess she and Jennie had a fine time planting their lettuce after the shower," said Grace quietly.
"Oh, did you get caught in the shower?" anxiously asked Madaline with trowel in hand, and beautifully decked out in one of Mrs. Dunbar's artist's smocks, somewhat bedaubed with paint. "We were alarmed. The lightning struck a tree over in the orchard."
"But it couldn't strike us, for we were buried in a beautiful cave, and if we had only known what a perfectly fine little bandit hang-out we were going to discover, we would have brought our hike packs along. Sorry you missed it all, Madie," said Cleo affectionately.
"But we had a visitor," announced Madaline. "He came just after you left, and he asked so many questions, Jennie sent me out with an excuse to get Michael. He said he was looking for a place to board, but we knew better. He was looking for information," she declared. "We transplanted a whole bed of tomatoes though. Don't I bear evidence of the applied arts in my smock and with the aroma of the green vines proclaiming me—the man with the rake?" she finished grandly.
"A lovely little speech, Madaline. You are a very artistic farmer," Cleo complimented. "And I hope your tomatoes tomate beautifully. But tell us about your visitor?"
"Oh, he wore a yellow duster, like an automobile coat and——"
"That's the man we saw!" Grace interrupted, forgetting in her excitement the plan of keeping their adventure from Madaline.
"Yes, he went toward Second Mountain," continued Madaline, unsuspiciously, "and Jennie told Michael to be sure and let Shep loose, so he would know we had a big dog around. Jennie doesn't like Shep to run through her garden, of course, but she said it would be a good thing to have that man know we were guarded."
"Yes," answered Cleo, exchanging glances with Grace. "It's a good thing to have a dog in a big forest like this. Aunt Audrey home?"
"Nope," replied Madaline. "Come on, let's dress, Jennie promised to go to the Lake with us after dinner."
"Oh, goody, goody," exclaimed Cleo. "Come on, Grace. I feel like an escaped eel in these togs. We had a good time in our old scout uniforms, didn't we? Nothing like it in a good drenching downpour," and she spread out her khaki skirt at each hip in imitation pannier effect, although the effect was rather slippery, to say the least.
It was while Madaline was washing, Cleo and Grace made opportunity to exchange opinions on the strange visitor.
"Do you suppose he is following us?" asked Grace. "If so, don't you think we had better tell Jennie?"
"I shouldn't like to," demurred Cleo, "because you know that would surely put the kibosh on our hikes. If Aunt Audrey were home I feel certain she would allow us our liberty, conditionally, of course. Pshaw! I wish the horrid man had kept away. Isn't it mean!"
Madaline appeared, rosy and shining, from the lavatory; evidently her gardening experience had been both enjoyable and profitable.
Garbed in pretty dainty frocks, and carrying gorgeously brilliant sweaters, the trio, with Jennie as chaperon, raced off to the lake directly after dinner. The evening was delightfully clear and cool after the shower, and the promise of a row out through the willow-bound water was sufficient lure to banish from their minds all thoughts of the suspicious man and the threatening old woman.
A group of boys down on the little pavilion was found to include Andy and Mally Mack, as well as Jack Hagan, and very generously they offered to give the girls a boat ride.
"Anything from a tug to a canoe!" proffered Andy, "and you may row, sail or paddle."
"That's lovely," acknowledged Cleo, "but we promised to take a big flat boat so Jennie may come this time," she smiled gratefully. "We would love a canoe ride, some evening when Aunt Audrey is home."
Doing the next best thing to taking part in the sail, that of providing the big flat bottom boat for the party, the boys promptly rowed up to the clear end of the float and assisted Jennie to embark. Of course the girls hopped in, disdaining so much as the kind hand Andy offered them, and with a united push they were sent out into the pool, that now in sunset looked like "a rummage sail [Transcriber's note: sale?] in a paint shop," as Grace described the brilliantly lighted waters.
Regretful glances were sent after that "big flat bottom boat," but women like Jennie had to be humored, and even good natured boys realized this.
Grace and Cleo rowed up the stream. Many pleasure craft were afloat, and the visitors already knew a number of Bellaire girls and boys who called pleasant greetings.
The lake, wide at the basin, narrowed off into a tiny stream as it followed the course, tracing its origin in the mountain springs. Willows thick as a tasseled hedge hid the banks, and teased the boat as the girls ducked and dipped their way, determined to go to the end, or till they touched bottom.
"It will be almost dark in that dense thicket," Jennie warned them, "and you know we are a good mile from nowhere."
"Oh, just a little farther," begged Cleo; "we want to say we went to the very end."
"Very well," agreed Jennie, who was plainly enjoying the delightful sail in the colorful twilight.
"Look!" exclaimed Grace suddenly. "There's someone in wading! Oh! see, it's our little Mary."
"Sure enough," followed Cleo. "How can she be away down here so late?
Let's call."
"No, wait till we are a little nearer," suggested Grace, thinking quickly, a call meant for Mary might also be heard by someone else. "We can row almost up to her."
Pulling their oars with a firm stroke it took but a few minutes to come within speaking distance of the girl, who now, seeing the approaching boat, was standing knee deep in a golden path of water.
"Who is she?" asked Jennie, gazing intently at the odd figure, for as ever Mary wore white, and her heavy braids fell into the big pocket made of her up-turned skirt. She looked like some elfin sprite painted in pastels, with all the soft greens of foliage, and the wonderfully mellow tints of crimsoned gold shed from the sunset, surrounding the picture and forming an inimitable background.
"Oh, that's our little friend Mary," Cleo replied to Jennie's question. "She's lovely, and Aunt Audrey knows about her." This last of course was said to assure Jennie of the propriety of her charges making friends with the girl in wading.
"Mary! Mary!" called Grace. "Come on for a sail! We have room!"
It was typical of Grace to do a thing like that—to call out the invitation without consulting anyone, or considering possible consequences.
"Hello, girls!" came back Mary's response. "I'd love to go—if——"
As Cleo at least expected, there was someone in the background watching Mary, but the assurance in Mary's voice, that of a new note of courage, further emboldened Cleo. "Oh come on, Mary," she urged. "We will just row you around here if you like. Jump in!" Cleo insisted, while Mary, now clinging to the side of the boat with one hand, depended on the other to keep her light skirts clear of the water.
"Oh, I am so glad you came," she said. "I did not know just what to do. I thought I might see some of the boys who would help me. Is this your mother?" She stopped suddenly, and stared at the astonished Jennie.
"No, this is Jennie, our friend, our manager," Cleo replied kindly. "But she is just as safe as a mother; you need not fear to speak before her. How can we help you?"
"Janos came to-day," Mary almost whispered, "and I am so afraid of him now. He knows I have friends. He saw you in the cave, but I did not know you were there during the storm." She was speaking quickly, fearfully, in fact, and had no chance to observe the changes working through Jennie's quizzical expression. "And he knows where you live——"
"Was it he who came to our house this afternoon?" asked Madaline.
"Does he wear an auto duster?"
"Yes, that is Janos. And now he wants to get us all away again. O dear! poor granddaddy! I know he is sick, but he thinks he is all right," and the child almost sobbed in her helplessness.
"But is someone watching you now? Is Reda over there?" asked Cleo, indicating the willow banks.
"No, I ran down and said I was going to find my basket I left somewhere before the storm. But they surely will come soon."
"If you are afraid, child," spoke up Jennie, "just you come along with us. We can get a car in the village and I will take you home myself."
Four pair of grateful eyes sent their thanks to Jennie. Mary touched her hand as it rested on the side of the boat.
"Oh, that is so good of you. But—Janos and Reda are not like Americans, they are from the tropics, you know, and different. Oh, we are so miserable and unhappy!" Tears now glistened in the heavy lashes that fringed her dark eyes, and no one seemed to know just what to say next. Cleo was first to recover herself.
"If you could possibly come with us to the landing we might make some excuse for picking you up, and Jennie could go home with you. We might all go. I'll tell you!" a sudden inspiration breaking in on the difficult situation. "Jump in. We will row back as quickly as we can and send the boys over to Bailey's for a big car. Then we will all drive up the mountain with you. We will have the man for protection, and if your old Reda is not good-natured we will not let you stay there to-night. Would your grandfather care? Might he allow you to spend a night with us?"
All the hidden and suppressed hopes in that strangely veiled countenance seemed to burst through now, and Mary's expression, from one of almost impenetrable gloom, assumed a strange light—perhaps borrowed from the sunset.
"Oh, it is too good to be true!" she sighed. "Someone at last is not afraid to help me!"