The boys were at the landing as the boat came in. This was exactly what Cora had wished for.

CHAPTER XV

AN ALARM

"I will go to Lamberton this afternoon," declared Mrs. Lewis, after having conferred with Cora and Jack. "I know a man there who was a great friend of my husband. He told me to come to him any time I needed advice, and he is a prominent lawyer. I have never troubled him--had no good cause to until now."

"I think that would be a good plan," Jack agreed. "I fancy as soon as we come down on those fellows good and hard, they will be forced to show their hand."

So it was arranged that Mrs. Lewis should go to the town, some twenty-five miles away.

"And Freda," she said, "don't worry if I am not back until the last train, for if he should happen to be in New York I will wait for him."

"Be careful of that cut in the old road," Freda warned. "Mother, you know it is always dark through there, even in broad daylight, and after dark it is pitchy."

"I can't get any train until one o'clock," went on Mrs. Lewis, "so, Freda, we will hurry back to the bungalow and leave everything ready for tea. We can prepare things while the girls are lunching."

"Now, you needn't do anything of the kind," objected Cora, "we girls can well enough take care of ourselves once in a while. Why, Mrs.

Lewis, you have us all spoiled. We are supposed to do most of our own housekeeping in Summer camp, you know."

"Indeed, you do that now," returned Mrs. Lewis, who was more than grateful for the opportunity for work that Cora had afforded to her.

"I like housekeeping when there is someone to keep for."

"You had Freda," Jack reminded her.

"And she wouldn't let me do enough to keep in practice," replied Mrs.

Lewis. "Here we are, and the young ladies are stringing beans!"

"Now that is what I call sweet of you," Jack observed as he greeted the four girls, all seated around a low porch table with knives and beans plying from basket to pan. "Who told you we were coming to dine?"

"You positively are not, Brother Jack," Cora declared. "You boys think our place is an elastic delicatessen. Why, we never know whether we are going to have enough for another meal or not, and we can't go to the point again to-day."

"All right, Little Sister. If you have the heart to eat good string beans from old Henry's garden, and know that your brother is starving for a single spoonful, just go ahead. They will rest heavy on your heart, though. I warn you."

"You may help!" offered Lottie. "Just take that paper bag and scoop up the ends. Bess spilled them."

"I absolutely refuse," replied Jack, haughtily, "to be a sc.r.a.per-up for such mean people. No, sir! I have just been manicured," and he gazed lovingly at his much-neglected hands.

"It does seem as if all we do is to get ready to eat and then eat,"

said Belle with a sigh. "I would never keep house for myself if I starved. At least, I would manage on fewer meals. We have only been to the point since breakfast and now it is time to eat again."

Cora had gone in with Freda and Mrs. Lewis and very soon afterward luncheon was announced--the beans were laid over for the evening meal.

Jack stayed, of course, and wondered (so he said) why the other fellows did not come in search of him.

An hour or two later Mrs. Lewis hurried off to the little station, after promising Freda that she would be most careful of the dark road known as the "Cut."

"For, Mother dear," warned Freda, "I do believe those land sharks would do almost anything to scare the information out of us. They have threatened to have it at any cost, you know."

"Oh! I am surprised at you being so nervous, dear," replied the mother, kissing Freda rea.s.suringly. "I never felt less nervous. In fact, I think now things will soon be righted. Good-bye, dear. And have a good time with your friends."

Freda watched the little woman step lightly away over the white path.

Then, with a sigh, she turned back to the bungalow.

"Freda! Freda!" called Bess. "You have not eaten yet, and I'm to do the dishes. Hurry this minute and just fill up! I must be finished in time for a nap, for I am nearly dead."

Freda did eat, though somehow she felt unusually depressed. Even Cora's encouraging words, given into Freda's ear when no one else was at hand, did not seem to cheer her.

"Just come down to the bay and go out with me," urged Cora. "I want to try the boat with the new control, and I don't want to go out alone!"

"Of course I will go with you," a.s.sented Freda. "I have only to change my blouse."

The motor trip was delightful. The _Chelton_ seemed to have missed the guiding hand of its fair owner, for while the new piece of mechanism was being put in Cora had not been using the boat.

"How different from the one we rode in this morning," Freda remarked.

"I always feel as if something were going to explode when I sit near a noise such as that old engine made. I wonder that a big house like the Laurel can keep such a tub."

"Guests are always glad to get on the water," answered Cora, "and I suppose they are not particular as long as they do not have to pay extra for the sail. Most of the hotels down here hire out their launches, I believe."

They headed straight for the island, and then ran around it to come back on the east sh.o.r.e. In many of the pa.s.sing boats were young friends of Cora, and all sorts of messages were shouted back and forth.

"I guess I had better go in early," Cora remarked, "as we really have not decided on this evening's plans. Some want the hop and others want the sail."

"And I have a lot to do, too," Freda said. "Mother and I have to take so much time from what we would like to do for you girls."

Cora protested against this, of course, declaring that the girls never had such help before, and regretting that Freda should take the matter so seriously.

"I cannot get over the attempt to rob Denny," Cora went on, as they neared the bungalow. "I am glad they chose a time when he was not around, for he would certainly fight. He thinks he has the same strength he enjoyed years ago, and I hate to think what might have happened had he met those fellows."

"Wasn't it awful?" commented Freda. "And to think that it must have been on our account, for I am convinced that those men were searching for papers they believe Denny has."

"No doubt about it," said Cora. "But he has none; has he?"

"He has never mentioned such a thing, and with us worrying as we are, I am sure that if he had any of our papers he would show them to mother. I know my grandfather trusted him more than he even trusted my father, his own son; but that is easy to understand, for Denny had settled for life here, near the property, while father was likely to go to any part of the world, had he lived. He always wanted to travel."

"This is a splendid afternoon to write letters," Cora remarked, "and I owe a very long one to mother. That, at least, I will get off on the last mail."

"I have some to write, too," Freda rejoined. "I had that very task in mind. I have to write to those 'in-laws' I interviewed last week. They will think I am very ungrateful not to have written since my return.

So long," she called out cheerily. "I hope when mother comes back we will all have cause to rejoice. That friend of father's is a very good lawyer."

"But he may not be able to say much until he has had a chance to look into the case," said prudent Cora. "We must not expect results so soon."

"Oh, I do," persisted Freda. "I know when he hears all that mother has to tell him he will be able to say something quite definite."

So the girls parted, Cora to go to her letter writing, and Freda to hers. It seemed the entire household at the Mote was very busy that afternoon, some resting for the evening, others arranging the fussy trifles so important to young girls.