“That is why father thought we ought to come down early,” put in Bess. “He thinks it is so much pleasanter at the seaside late and early, rather than in the regular season.”
“Of course,” said Cora, “the girls are afraid of that robbery business; otherwise they would not try to keep away from us, for I am quite sure they know we would not turn them over to that aunt.”
“I wonder how they are making out on that robbery?” asked Walter. “Wasn’t there something doing the day we left Chelton?”
“Something, and then some more,” replied Jack, with a sly wink. “I expect a report from ‘headquarters’ on it very soon.”
“And poor little Andy! I do wonder what became of him?” added Cora.
“Ice cream became of him the last I saw him,” retorted Jack, “and I must say the brown part of the cone was really very becoming to him, for it matched his complexion.”
“Then,” went on Ed, “we will start on a regular search to-morrow. No use letting them slip away, when you girls feel that it is really up to you to find them. We will put up at the hotel to-night, and early to-morrow start in bunga-loafing. Then, when we get things to rights—we will be pleased—ahem—to—ahem—meet you at the pergola, ladies!”
“No, at the pavilion,” replied Bess. “I am just dying to see all the sights there. And then we will be directly in the centre of everything to start out from there.”
This obtuse remark gave the boys no end of fun. It was so like Bess—a regular “Bessie,” they declared, and, to discover its meaning Jack, Ed and Walter put their heads together literally, although Jack accused Ed of doing all the knocking, and he had to withdraw from the conference because of a rather too vigorous bump.
Bess was so vexed that she ran upstairs, and left Cora alone to lock the door after the young fellows.