“And who are we to hold on to?” laughed Mary Cox, prepared to run into the house again.
“Wait!” cried Mercy, who had come leaning upon Madge’s arm from the shore. “Don’t you see who that message refers to?”
“No!” they chorused.
“To that runaway girl, of course,” said the cripple. “That’s plain enough, I hope.”
“To Nita!” gasped Heavy.
“But who is it that’s coming here for her? And how did ‘W. Hicks’ know she was here?” demanded Ruth.
“Maybe Captain and Mrs. Kirby told all about her when they got to Boston. News of her, and where she was staying, got to her friends,” said Mercy Curtis. “That’s the ‘why and wherefore’ of it–believe me!”
“That sounds very reasonable,” admitted Aunt Kate. “The Kirbys would only know our last name and would not know how to properly address either Jennie or me. Come, now! get in on the rubber mats in your rooms and rub down well. The suits will be collected and rinsed out and hung to dry before Mammy Laura goes to bed. If any of you feel the least chill, let me know.”
But it was so warm and delightful a night that there was no danger of colds. The girls were so excited by the telegram and had so much to say about the mystery of Nita, the castaway, that it was midnight before any of them were asleep.
However, they had figured out that the writer of the telegram, leaving New York, from which it was sent at half after eight, would be able to take a train that would bring him to Sandtown very early in the morning; and so the excited young folks were all awake by five o’clock.