AT THE CABIN
“Girls,” declared Cora Kimball, “I can’t stand it any longer! I’ve got to do something—or have nervous prostration.”
“And that’s just the way I feel!” said Bess. “Waiting is the most nervous thing in the world.”
“Have another chocolate,” suggested Lottie, helping herself from the box on a table near her.
“How dare you suggest such a thing?” demanded Bess. “As if I wasn’t trying to do all I could to reduce.”
“Oh, well, I was thinking of your nerves,” observed Lottie.
“But what is it you want to do, Cora, dear?” asked Marita.
“I want to go to Denny’s cabin, and see what has happened,” was the answer.
“What!” cried Belle, with an exclamation of surprise and alarm. “Tramp through the woods at this hour of night?”
“It isn’t any such great, or late, hour of night,” replied Cora, calmly, “and the woods are not dark. There’s a lovely moon. But I don’t propose to go through the woods. What is the Chelton for if we can’t use her?”
“Cora Kimball, do you mean to say that you’d go out on the bay, and over to Denny’s cabin, after dark, with the prospect that some desperate men are going to attack him?” asked Bess.
“The boys are going to be there,” answered Cora, still refusing to become excited. “Besides, they may need our help. We could take a prisoner or two in our boat.”
There was a chorus of screams.
“Cora Kimball—how dare you?” demanded Belle.
“Oh, I meant if he was tied hand and foot,” went on the leader of the motor girls. “Villains are always tied hand and foot, you know. They can’t move. They’re gagged, too. I think I should insist on having our villain gagged. It might happen to be that young man who raced with us to-day, and he might get sarcastic if he could talk. Yes, I think he must be gagged.”
“Oh, Cora, you’re hopeless,” sighed Lottie. “What would my mother say if she could see me now.”
“She’d tell you to stop eating chocolates and come with me,” returned Cora, firmly. “I’m going to the cabin.”
“I—I’ll go with you,” volunteered Marita, and then she blushed at the attention she attracted.
“Well, if Marita isn’t afraid to go, I’m not,” announced Lottie, with spirit. “Come on, Cora.”
“Oh!” gasped Bess.
“Oh, dear!” echoed Belle. “Do we have to stay here all alone?”
“Either that, or come with us,” invited Cora. “I’m going over to the cabin in our boat.”
There was a step at the door of the living room, and Mrs. Lewis looked in.
“Did I hear you girls say you were going out?” she inquired.
“Just for a little trip on the water,” replied Cora, signing to her chums to keep silent. “It is so lovely with the moon, and we won’t go far.”
It was not a great way to Denny’s cabin.
“Well, don’t be gone too long,” cautioned the widow. “You must remember that I am, in a way, responsible for you girls.”
“Oh, we’ll be careful,” Cora promised. “We’d take Freda with us, but perhaps she had better stay with you.”
“Yes, I think so. Besides, she is so nervous after what nearly happened last night, that I’d rather she wouldn’t go out. Oh, if only things were settled! If only we were sure we could get that property back, and not have to worry about it being taken away from us!”
“Have they been annoying you of late?” asked Cora, thinking perhaps there had been some developments of which she was unaware.
“No, nothing special, since that horrid woman. But it is a constant worry to me.”
“It must be,” returned Cora, sympathetically. “Well, we will hope for the best.”
Cora did not say so—even to her chums, but she had great hopes that something might develop from the events of this night. If the unscrupulous men could only be caught in some wrong-doing a hold might be obtained over them that would enable them to be defeated in court. Thus their claim to the property—which claim Cora felt sure was a false one—might be disproved.
That there were papers in existence which would show the widow and her daughter to be the rightful owners Cora did not doubt. Freda’s grandfather, from all accounts, was a careful business man, if eccentric in some ways. He would not have come into possession of property without having the papers to prove his claim. And he was not a man to put them in some safe deposit vault and leave no memorandum as to finding the key.
Perhaps they were concealed in some nook or cranny in the widow’s home. Cora made up her mind to have a search made after this night was over.
Then, too, Denny might be able to come upon them. Eccentric in some ways, as Freda’s grandfather had been, he might have hidden the papers in Denny’s cabin.
That was a new thought. Perhaps the scheming men knew this, and that is why they wanted to attack the old fisherman.
“We simply must go to his cabin,” decided Cora, “and find out what has happened. I can’t wait any longer.”
Wraps were quickly donned, and down to the dock went the girls. The Chelton was in running order, and soon they were out on the moonlit waters of the bay.
“There’s a light in his cabin,” said Cora, as they came out from behind a point, and had a view of the little cove where nestled Denny’s cottage.
“I hope the boys are there,” remarked Bess, “and that they have the villains all tied up and ready for delivery.”
“Ugh!” exclaimed Belle. “If they have I wish they’d send them by parcel post instead of asking us to take charge of them.”
“They’ll be harmless,” guaranteed Cora. “Besides, the Dixie can’t hold more than the boys; our boat is larger.”
“We could let the boys run this one, after the men are tied in her,” suggested Lottie, “and we could come home in the Dixie.”
“Never!” exclaimed Cora. “You can’t rely on her. I’ll stick to the Chelton.”
But if the girls had only known that, at that moment, far out on Crystal Bay, was the ill-fated Dixie, drifting to sea, while the boys tooted hopelessly for aid on the compressed air whistles!
The Chelton made a quick and uneventful trip to the fisherman’s cabin. From it a light peacefully glowed.
“There’s no one here,” announced Bess. “Not even the boys.”
“Be careful,” warned Cora. “It may be a trap. Let us go up softly.”
“But what about those men?” asked Belle. “Maybe they have taken Denny away with them, and the boys, too.”
“Don’t be silly,” advised Cora. “Let’s go up and look in.”
As they peered in the cabin window they saw Denny seated in an easy chair. He was alone, and across his knees was the red oar of which he seemed so fond.