“Quickness of thought was needed at that stage of the proceedings if the thought was to do any good. Well, here we are at the veranda. I’ll carry you up the steps, and then you will be all right. Here is a lady who seems to know you.”
Stanley Downs put his burden down gently on the broad veranda and drew a large wicker chair to her. As he did so, a middle-aged, motherly sort of woman, in a light-blue morning gown, came running up and took the girl’s two hands in hers.
“Why, Miss Ranvelt! What is this? Was it you that went crashing into the lake? I heard that there had been an accident, but I never supposed——”
“Never supposed it was I, Mrs. Somers?” laughed the girl. “Why not? It was just as likely as to be anybody else. I’m always racing around in a motor car. You know that. Dad says I’ll get into a bad mess some time. It seems as if I came near it this morning.”
“Came near it?” grunted Karl, who had followed close behind Stanley. “How much closer does she want to come?”
Karl’s voice brought Stanley sharply to a recollection of something of great importance to himself that he had forgotten all about in the excitement—even after he had found himself safe, with the girl in his arms.
He waved a farewell to the young lady, who was being hurried away to the housekeeper’s own rooms, for dry clothes and general attention, and turned to Karl:
“The money?”
“It went down with the car,” replied Karl. “I had no time to get at it, and you were in the other car. It was in the door pocket in front, with the latch fastened. It ought to be there now.”
“Yes, yes!” agreed Stanley nervously. “It ought. The door pocket is not waterproof. But it will keep some of the water away, perhaps. Anyhow, it will keep it all in one place. Then there is a thick wrapping of brown paper over it. That ought to help.”