FREDA’S STORY
“Well, are we all here?”
“Count noses!”
“Did anybody lose anything?”
“If it’s a pocketbook it’s mine!”
“Especially if it has money in it!”
Thus the motor girls, and their boy friends, sent merry quip and jest back and forth as they found seats in the coach, and settled down for the trip to Crystal Bay. Cora, after making sure that the girls had comfortable seats, and noting that Jack had pre-empted the place beside Marita, leaned over Bess and whispered:
“I’m going back in the next car for a little while.”
“What for?”
“Did you lose anything?” asked Belle, who overheard what Cora said.
“No, but you saw me talking to that girl on the platform; didn’t you?”
“Yes, and I wondered who she was,” remarked Bess.
“Freda Lewis! Why, I never would have known her!”
“Nor I!” added Belle. “How she has changed! Of course you were more intimate with her than we were, Cora; but she certainly doesn’t seem to be the same girl.”
“She isn’t,” replied Cora. “She and her mother are in trouble—financial trouble. I’m going back and talk to her. I want to help her if I can.”
And while Cora is thus bent on her errand of good cheer, it may not be out of place, for the benefit of my new readers, to tell a little something more about the characters of this story, and how they figured in the preceding books of this series.
To begin with the motor girls, there were three of them, though friends and guests added to the number at times. Somehow, in speaking of the motor girls, I always think of Cora Kimball first. Perhaps it is because she was rather of a commanding type. She was a splendid girl, tall and dark. Her mother was a wealthy widow, who for some years had made her home in the quiet New England town of Chelton, where she owned valuable property. And, while I am at it, I might mention that Jack was Cora’s only brother, the three forming the Kimball household.
Bess and Belle Robinson were twins, the daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Perry Robinson. Mr. Robinson was a wealthy railroad man, associated with large metropolitan interests.
Bess, Belle and Cora had been chums since their motoring days began, when Cora had been given a car, and, after some persuasion, Mr. Robinson also had bought one for his daughters.
I think I have already intimated that Bess was plump and rosy—a little too plump, she herself admitted at times. Her sister was just the opposite—tall and willowy, so that the two formed quite a contrast.
Marita Osborne was a newcomer in Chelton, who had soon won her way into the hearts of the motor girls, so much so that Cora had invited her to come to the bungalow at Crystal Bay.
Each year Cora and her chums sought some new form of Summer vacation pleasure, and this time they had decided on the seashore, in a quiet rather old-fashioned resort, which the girls, on a preliminary inspection trip, had voted most charming. In fact they went into such raptures over it that Jack and his chums had decided to go there also. So the boys and girls would be together.
Speaking of the boys, the two who will come in for the most consideration will be Walter Pennington and Ed Foster. Walter was perhaps a closer chum of Jack’s than was Ed, the former attending Exmouth College with Jack, where, of late, Ed had taken a post-graduate course. Ed was considered quite a sportsman, and was fond of hunting and fishing.
The first book of this series, entitled “The Motor Girls,” tells how Cora became possessed of her car, the Whirlwind, and what happened after she got it. In that powerful machine she and her girls chums unraveled a mystery of the road in a manner satisfactory to themselves and many others.
When the motor girls went on a tour, they made a strange promise—or rather Cora did—and how she kept it you will find fully set forth in the second volume. In the third you may read of the doings of the girls at Lookout Beach, where came two runaways whom Cora befriended. The runaways were two girls—but there, I must not spoil the story for you by telling you their secret.
Going through New England in their cars, the motor girls had a strange experience with the gypsies, as set forth in the fourth volume. Cora was in dire straits for a time, but with her usual good luck, and her good sense, she finally turned the situation to the advantage of herself and her chums.
Motoring so appealed to the girls that when they got the chance to change from the land to the water they eagerly took it. Cora became the owner of a fine motor boat, and in the story “The Motor Girls on Cedar Lake,” you may read of what she and her friends did with their craft. The hermit of Fern Island had much to be thankful for, after meeting Cora, who did him a great service.
Longing for wider waters in which to display their skill as amateur motor-boatists, the girls went to the coast the Summer following their experiences on Cedar Lake, and there they found the waif from the sea. Again did Cora and her chums take advantage of an opportunity to befriend an unfortunate.
The experiences of that Summer were talked of nearly all of the following Winter. Now warm weather had come again, and with it the desire to be flitting to a watering place. Crystal Bay, as I have said, was selected, and of the start for that place I have already told.
Cora, walking back through the coaches, looking from side to side for Freda, found herself wondering what had caused the sudden change in her former companion.
“She was considered well-off at school,” murmured Cora, as she saw her friend half way down the second coach, “but she never appeared fond of money. Now the loss of it seems to have changed her terribly. I wonder if it can be—just money?”
Cora reached the seat where Freda was, with her face turned toward the window.
“Well, I am here, you see,” announced Cora, pleasantly. “I left them to shift for themselves a while. They do seem to depend so much on me.”
“That’s because you are always doing things for others,” said Freda, and there was a suspicious brightness in her eyes.
“Then I hope I can do something for you!” exclaimed Cora, earnestly. “Come, Freda, dear, tell me your troubles—that is, if you would like to,” she added quickly, not wishing to force a confidence for which the other might not be ready.
“Oh, Cora, dear, of course you know I want to—it isn’t that! Only I don’t like to pile my worries on you.”
“Go on—it always helps to tell someone else. Who knows but what I may help you. Is it a real worry, Freda?”
“So real that sometimes I am afraid to think about it!”
There was no mistaking the girl’s fear. She looked over her shoulder as though she expected to see some unpleasant object, or person.
“Suppose you begin at the beginning,” suggested Cora, with a smile. “Then I’ll know what we are talking of.”
“I don’t know what the beginning was,” said Freda slowly, “but I can almost see the—ending,” and she seemed to shiver. “But where are you going, Cora, you and your friends?” she asked. “I must not be selfish and talk only about myself.”
“We are going to Crystal Bay.”
“Crystal Bay! How odd, just where mother is, and where I am going. Then I shall see you often.”
“I hope so,” murmured Cora. “We have a cute little bungalow, and the boys—my brother and his chums—will use a tent. But I want to hear more about your trouble. Really, Freda, you do look quite ill.”
“Perhaps that is partly because I have been traveling all night. It is always so wearying. But my chief cause of anxiety is for mother. She is really on the verge of a breakdown, the doctor says. Oh, if anything happens to her——”
“Don’t think of it,” urged Cora. “Perhaps it will help you if you tell me some particulars.”
“I will,” said Freda, bravely. “It is this way. My grandfather was a pioneer land-owner of a large tract at Crystal Bay. It came to us, after papa died, and we lived well on the income from it, for there was much farm land besides the big house we lived in. But a month or so ago a big land company, that wants to get our property for a factory site, filed a claim against us, saying we had no good title to the estate. They said certain deeds had not been filed, and that we were only trespassers, and must get off.”
“And did you go?” asked Cora, with deep interest.
“Not yet, but I am afraid we’ll have to. You see these men took the matter to court. They got an injunction, I think it is called. Anyhow, it was some document that forbade the people who rent the land from us from paying us any more money until the case was settled. And, as we depend on the rents for our living—well, you see we haven’t any living now, to speak of,” and Freda tried to smile through her tears.
“Oh, that’s a shame!” cried Cora, impulsively. “And can nothing be done?”
“We have tried, mother and I. But we really have no money to hire lawyers, and neither have any of what few friends and relations there are left. I have just been on a quest of that kind, but it was not successful.
“There are supposed to be some documents—deeds, mortgages, or something like that, in existence, and if we could only get hold of them we might prove our claim, and force the men to let us have our rent money again. But until we get those papers——”
Freda paused suggestively.
“Oh, I wish I could think of a way to help you!” murmured Cora. “I can see you have been suffering!”
“I don’t mind so much about myself,” said Freda, bravely, “but I am really more worried about mother than I am about the property. If worst came to worst I could go to work, but mother has taken so to heart the actions of the land sharks! She never was strong, you know. You met her; did you not?”
“I think not, but perhaps I may have done so. Now, Freda, I am going to help you!”
Cora spoke enthusiastically.
“Are you? How?” asked the other, eagerly.
“I don’t just know how, but I am. First I’m going to think this over, and then I’m going to talk about it with Jack. He has a friend—Ed Foster—who knows something about law. We may be able to get ahead of these land sharks yet.”
“Oh, I hope so!” gasped Freda, with a fond look at Cora. “It is so good of you to bother with poor me.”
“And why shouldn’t I?” asked Cora. “You look as though you needed bothering with. Take care that you don’t break down, too, Freda.”
“I shall keep up. I must, for mother’s sake. Oh, but those men were positively brutal when they told her she had no right to grandfather’s property! But it has done me good to talk to you, Cora dear.”
“I am glad of it. You look better already. Now wouldn’t you like to come forward and meet some of the girls? You know the Robinson twins, anyhow.”
“Yes, I know them. But I don’t want to see anyone just yet. Later on, perhaps. I just want to rest, and think. It was awfully good of you to come to me. We shall see each other at Crystal Bay.”
“Oh, indeed we shall. Well, then, if you won’t come I’ll go back to my friends. Now don’t forget—I’m going to help you, Freda!”
“Oh, that’s so good of you! I feel more hope and courage now. I—I feel like—fighting those land sharks!” and Freda clenched her little hands as though the struggle to come would be a physical one.
With a reassuring pat on Freda’s shoulder Cora left her friend, to go to her chums in the other coach. She found them about to organize a searching party to look for her, and they clamored for the reason for her desertion.
She told them something of Freda’s story, and Ed Foster promised to talk the matter over with Mrs. Lewis later, and see if he could give any legal aid.
“It’s too bad!” exclaimed Bess. “There ought to be a law to punish such men.”
“There probably are laws,” said Cora, “but the trouble is there are so many laws that bad men can often use them for their own ends.”
“Bravo, Portia. A Daniel come to judgment!” cried Ed. “With you on her side, Freda is sure to win!”
But, though the motor girls tried to be merry, the little cloud of Freda’s trouble overshadowed them all the way to Crystal Bay.