"Yes. I have suspected for a long time that the little runs that Peters makes up there must have paid him pretty well. Now that he has fallen out with Tony, likely it'll all come to Jim. Best thing we can do, miss, is to keep a sharp look out for the girl. If you can get her to come to camp with you I fancy all the rest will soon straighten itself."
Cora wondered just how much Ben knew of the mystery of that island. She felt obliged to withhold Laurel's secret, yet she felt, too, that Ben would do everything to help her get the girl and the hermit away from their place of exile.
"I'll tell you, Ben," she said finally. "I'll come to you for advice just as soon as I find it is time to act. Depend upon it we are not going to leave Cedar Lake until the mystery of Fern Island is cleared up."
This seemed to satisfy Ben, for beneath the deep brown of his cheeks there showed the glow of color that came with pleasure.
"All right, little girl," he said, "if you want me before I come again, just let me know. Ben will be only too glad to stick by you and all the rest of them," meaning the campers at Camp Cozy and those who bungalowed at the Bungle.
He went off, shambling along with his face turned toward the sky and his feet taking care of themselves. Cora looked after him.
"Dear old Ben," Cora mused, "everything seems worth while when it takes 'everything' to make such a friend as you can be." Then she went back to her engine. She must tighten the wires, and leave the craft in readiness for a quick run.
"Oh, Cora!" came the voice of Bess suddenly, "you've missed it. We have had the most glorious time."
Bess approached, her cheeks as red as the sumac she carried, and her eyes as bright as the very ragged sailors that hung rather dangerously from her belt. "Hasn't Laurel come yet?"
"No, not yet," replied Cora, intent upon her task at the wires. "I am afraid she will hardly come to-night."