CHAPTER XVI
THE DISAPPEARANCE
"But it is lonely, and I think we had best keep close together."
"But I want to——"
"Show Betty how beautiful it is to be lonely. Wallie Pennington, you are breaking your contract. No one was to get——"
"Personal. Oh, all right—take Betty," and Walter emitted a most unmusical brawl. "Of course, you and Ed are keeping the contract. You are doing as you please. Behold Ed now, carrying Cora over a pebble——"
"That's because Ed loves me," declared Jack, "and he is saving Cora's boots."
"All the same, I simply won't carry Bess. She might melt in my arms."
The young men were exploring the woods in the White Mountains. The girls were racing about in absolute delight over the ferns, while Mr. Rand, who had actually taken the "jaunt" from the hotel afoot, sat on a huge stone comparing notes with his muscles, and with the inactive years of discretion and indiscretion.
"They're like a lot of young animals," he was saying to any one near enough to hear, "and I—I am like something that really ought to know better."
"Just suppose," said Jack to Ed, "that a young deer should spring out just there where Belle and Hazel are sitting. What do you think would be the act?"
"Hazel would try to catch the deer, and Belle would go up a tree. Give me something harder."
"Well, then, suppose a tramp should come along the path and ask Betty for the thing that hangs around her neck. What would happen then?"
"Walter would get mixed up with his trampship. That, too, is easy."
"Cora says we have got to get back to earth in time for the Chelton fair. Now, I never thought that Cora cared about that sort of thing," Walter remarked.
"But it's the home town, and Cora knows her name is on some committee," replied Ed. "I guess we will get enough of these wilds in a week. At any rate, all Cora does care for is the car—she would rather motor than eat."
Betty had taken some wild berries to her father. "I say, sis," he pleaded, "can't we get back? I am stiffening, and you may all have to get together and carry me."
"Are you so tired? Poor dad! I didn't think the walk was too much. But you do feel it!" and she sat down on a soft clump of grass at his feet. "Well, as soon as the girls get their ferns and things they want to take home for specimens, we will start back. If you really are tired, we could get a carriage at the foot of the hill."
"And have you youngsters laugh at me! Never! I would die walking first," and Mr. Rand stretched himself to show how near death he really was. "Now, I tell you, we will all take the bus back. That would be more like it."
This suggestion was rapidly spread among the woodland party, and when the girls did finally consent to desert the growing things and leave a "speck of something for the rabbits to eat," as Jack put it, the start for the hotel was made.
At the foot of the hill, or the opening of the mountain path, an old woman, a gypsy, stood with the inevitable basket on her arm.
"Tell your fortune, lady? Tell you the truth," she called, and actually put her hand out to stop Cora as she was passing. "Tell it for a quarter."
"Take a basketful," suggested Ed, sotto voce. "I would like to know what's going to become of Wallie when we get back to Chelton."
As usual, Walter was helping Betty, who, with her light laugh and equally light step, was making her way over the last stones of the wood way.
"Tell your fortune——"
"Oh, no," called back Mr. Rand, who had stopped to see what was delaying the party. "We don't need to be told. Here woman," and he threw back a coin, "take this and buy a—new shawl."
All this time the woman was standing directly in Cora's way. The path was very narrow, and on either side was close brushwood. Cora stepped in the bushes in order to get out to the road, and as she did she stumbled and fell.
In an instant Ed had caught her up, but not before the old woman had peered deep into Cora's face, had actually moved her scarf as if looking for some mark of recognition.
"I'll help her up," the woman exclaimed, when she saw that Ed was angry enough to thrust her to the edge of the pathway. "I see a fine fortune in her eyes. They are black, her hair is black, and she has the appearance of the girl who runs an automobile. Oh, yes, I remember!" and she now turned away satisfied. "These girls ride much. But she—she is their leader!"
"Oh, come," whispered Belle. "I am so frightened. That is one of the gypsies from the beach camp."
Cora had regained her feet, and with a bruised hand was now passing along with the others.
"We might have had a couple of quarts of fortune out of that basket just as well as not," insisted Jack. "I never saw anything so handy."
"Oh, those gypsies are a pest," declared Mr. Rand. "But I am just superstitious enough not to want to offend any of them. I claim to be a first-class chaperon—first-class!"
"Are you hurt, Cora?" asked Bess, seeing that Cora was pressing her hand to her lips.
"Only scratched from the brush," and she winced. "Those berry bushes seem to have a grudge against me."
"But the old Gypsy?" asked Bess, as the two girls stood close together.
"Oh, I didn't mind her rant," replied Cora. "They always have something wonderful to tell one."
"I wish they would not cross our path so often," went on the other girl. "Seems to me they have been the one drawback of our entire trip."
"Let us hope that they will now be satisfied," said Cora with that indefinite manner which so often conveys a stronger meaning than might have been intended.
Both girls sighed. Then they joined the others, while the old gypsy woman looked after them sharply.
Ed was hailing the driver of the bus—"Silent Bill," they called him, because he was never known to keep still, not even at his grandmother's funeral. Silent Bill lost no time in getting his horses headed right, also in starting out to describe the wonders and beauties of the White Mountains.
It was fun to take the bus ride, and no one was more pleased at the prospect than was Mr. Rand.
"Nothing like sitting down square," he declared. "Why young folks always want to walk themselves into the grave is more than I pretend to understand."
"My, but that old gypsy woman did frighten me," said Belle to Hazel. "I never saw such a look as she gave Cora! I honestly thought she was going to drop. Maybe she——"
"Blew powder into her eyes. The same thought came to me," replied Hazel. "Well, I hope we won't see any more gypsies until we get within police precincts. We have had enough of them here."
Then Silent Bill called out something about how the air in those peaks would make a dead man well. "Look at them peaks!" he insisted. "That's what fetches folks up here every summer."
"They fetched me down," remarked Mr. Rand, "but then I never did care for peaks."
"Now, Mr. Rand," corrected Cora, "didn't you take a peek into my auto the night it broke down? Seems to me there are peeks and peaks——"
Amid laughter they rode along, enjoying the splendid scenery and bracing air, but the gypsy's face was haunting Cora.
That evening there was to be a hop at the hotel. As many of the patrons were soon leaving for home, it was expected that the affair would be entered into with all the energy that could be summoned from the last of the season. There would not be another big affair until the next summer, so all must "make hay" while the lights held out.
Our friends had some trouble in finding just the correct wearing things in the small auto trunks, but pretty girls can so safely depend upon youth and good manners that simple frocks were pressed literally and physically for the occasion, whereas many of the all-season guests at the Tip-Top were not so self-reliant. Motor-made complexions, and the eyes that go with that peculiar form of beauty, formed a combination beyond dispute.
Cora wore her pale yellow poplin, Betty was in all white, of course; Bess looked like an apple blossom in something pinkish, and Belle was the evening star in her dainty blue. Hazel "had on" a light green affair. We say "had on," for that's the way Hazel had of wearing things—she hated the bother of fixing up.
The young men were not expected to have evening "togs" in their runabout traps, but they did have some really good-looking, fresh, summer flannels that made them appear just as well dressed and much better looking than some of the "swells" in their regular dress suits.
"What a wonderful time!" exclaimed Betty. "I never thought we could have such a jolly good time at a regular hotel affair."
"Why?" asked Hazel, wondering.
"Because there are so many kinds of people that——"
"We are all chorus, and no spot light?" interrupted Walter mischievously. "But we might put you up on the window sill."
"Indeed!" and the little lady flounced off. "Now you may fill in that girl's card over there—the red-headed one. She has been looking at you most all evening, and I have promised at least four dances."
Walter looked as if he would fall at Betty's feet if there had been sufficient room.
"Betty! Betty!" he begged. "If you do not give me the 'Yale' I shall leave the ballroom instanter."
"Oh, if you really want it," agreed Betty, and off they went.
Bess was soon "puffed out" with the vigorous dance. She was with Jack.
"Let's sit it out," she suggested. "I seem to be all out of breath."
"Certainly," agreed Jack. "But couldn't I get some for you, or send you some?"
"Some what?"
"Breath, wasn't that what you wanted? Here is a splendid place for a breathing spell."
Bess laughed and sat down with her partner.
"There are all sorts of ways to dance," she remarked as the "red-headed" girl, who had eyes for Walter, stepped on her toes in passing.
"Those girls from the Breakwater seem to have spite against us," remarked Jack. "That is the second time they have stepped on our toes."
"And she is no featherweight," answered Bess, frowning.
"Strange thing that good clothes cannot cover bad manners," went on Jack, who was plainly annoyed. "Let us take the other bench. She can't possibly reach us in the alcove."
Cora was just gliding by.
"Lazy," she called lightly. "You are missing the best dance."
"I'm tired," replied Bess. "Besides we want to watch you."
At this Ed, who was Cora's partner, gave a wonderful swirl to show just how beautifully he and Cora could do the "Yale Rush."
"Cora is such a good dancer," Bess whispered to Jack, "but then Cora is good at most everything." There was no sarcasm in her tone.
"Oh yes, for a little sister she is all right," agreed the young man.
"She might be worse."
"Oh," exclaimed Bess suddenly. "I saw such a face at that window!"
"Plenty of faces around here to-night," observed Jack lightly.
"But that—oh! let us go away from here. I am nervous!"
"Certainly," and Jack took her arm. "Now if that were Belle," he proceeded calmly, and then paused.
Bess was actually trembling when they crossed to the stairway, but she soon recovered her composure.
She said nothing more about the face she had seen peering through the window and tried to forget it, as the dance went on.
After the "Paul Jones," a feature of the Tip-Top affairs, had been danced, every one wanted to cool off or down, according to the temperature desired. Cora was with Ed. They had drifted out on a side porch. Without any preamble one of the waiters touched Ed on the arm and told him there was a message for him waiting in the office.
"How do you know it's for me?" asked Ed, astonished.
"You are with the motor girls, aren't you?" replied the man, as if that were an explanation.
"I'll take you back to the others," said Ed to Cora. "I may as well see what it is."
"Oh, run along. It may be something urgent," suggested Cora. "I can slip back into the dance room when I want to, or I can wait here. You won't be long."
Ed followed the waiter indoors, then went into the office as he directed. He was not absent more than ten minutes, but when he returned to the porch Cora was gone!