chance than an old woman,” said Mrs. Raymond sadly, though she was not so very old. “They thought she was scared into flight, and afraid to come back. Oh, when sympathy is on one’s side it is easy to make excuses! I was on my way to look for work when the storm overtook me. I went in your garage. My hat blew away.”
“We will do anything we can to assist you,” Cora declared. “Your story seems true, and we have the advantage of some leisure time.”
“And a good heart, besides brains,” the woman said emphatically. “My child, you have a great chance in life. May no misfortunes rob you of it.”
The storm had moderated somewhat. The strain of the strange story made a deep impression upon the listeners, and the young men, quick to realize this effect upon their girl friends, now proposed that they all go outside and see “what the weather looked like.”
Anxious to know the prospects for the long auto tour they were to take on the following morning, all now hurried to the side porch, leaving the woman alone.
“My, isn’t it beautiful!” exclaimed Eline. “How sweet everything smells!”
“And that little breeze,” said Ed, “will soon dry up the mud. I am glad it did not rain longer.”
“If it did,” added Walter, “we would have to load up with planks to bridge over the bad places. Can’t depend on rail fences over where we’re going.”
For some time they stood admiring the newly-made beauties of the wonderful out-doors, then Cora thought perhaps she might arrange for Mrs. Raymond to stay in the servants’ quarters over night. They had left the woman rather abruptly, she feared.
Cora asked Jack what he thought, and he agreed that the woman’s story sounded plausible, and that it was their duty to do what they could to assist her, if they could. But he did not seem very keen.
With the intention of asking Mrs. Raymond to remain, Cora left the others and went back to the library.
No one was in the room!
“Perhaps she went into the kitchen,” Cora thought, opening the door through the hallway to that room.
“Where’s Mrs. Raymond; the strange woman?” she asked Nettie.
“She did not come out here,” replied the maid. “Isn’t she with you?”
“No, we left her in the library,” Cora replied, and without further inquiry she looked down the driveway and could just see a vanishing shadow turn into the road. But it may not have been Mrs. Raymond.
“I guess she’s gone,” continued Cora to Nettie. “And I am sorry, for we wanted to keep her for the night. Well, I hope the poor creature was cheered up some. She seemed to need encouragement. We did all we could, perhaps.”
“Is she gone?” asked Bess, when they all had come in again, having satisfied themselves that fine weather was promised for the morning. “I hoped she would tell us more about the Ford girl–give us a description of her, at least. We might run across her somewhere.”
“It all seemed rather weird,” said Cora. “But really we must be on the lookout. Who knows but we may help unravel the mystery?”
“But why did the woman hurry off so?” asked Belle, as if any one present knew.
“Suppose she thought we might think she caused the fire,” Ed answered. “It looked strange for her to be in the barn at that time. But anyone could see that it was a small explosion–too much gas somewhere.”
“Well, all we know about Nancy is her name,” observed Cora. “We will have to trust to motor girls’ luck for the rest. But I love a mystery.”
“Of course,” Eline declared, “if we could have the wonderful luck to find that girl we might be able to clear the poor woman’s name. It looked to me as if the girl was in league with the robbers when she ran before they entered the room.”
“No use speculating,” Cora commented. “Better finish our arrangements. It’s getting late.”
CHAPTER IV
ON THE ROAD
There was more “finishing” to be done than even Cora had thought, and, with her usual habit of looking after matters, she had counted on much. But the thunder-shower, the fire, the finding of the strange woman, and listening to her still more strange story all combined to make the affair of getting ready for the trip in the morning no easy one.
But Cora was determined to carry out the plans as agreed on, so when her friends showed a disposition to delay, and dwell in conversation on the recent happenings, she “brought them up with a round turn,” as Jack expressed it.
“I just can’t get over that queer woman,” observed Belle, during a lull in the talk, while Cora was jotting down in a pretty red leather notebook some matters she did not want to forget. “She had such–such a patient face.”
“Maybe she was tired of waiting for a new one,” suggested Norton, who was usually flippant. “I’ve heard that ladies can get new faces at these–er–beauty parlors.”
“It’s a pity there isn’t some sort of a parlor where one can get–manners!” murmured Eline. She seemed to have taken a distinct dislike to the new young man.
Belle and Bess, who had overheard the remark, looked rather askance at Cora’s relative, but said nothing.
“Now then!” exclaimed the young hostess, “since you have all gotten rid of as much of the effects of the fire as possible, we’ll go over the main points to be sure nothing will go wrong. Oh, that’s something I almost forgot. I must send mamma our address.”
Mrs. Kimball had gone to Europe for a summer tour, leaving her daughter and son at home. When they went to the Cove the house would be in charge of a care-taker. Cora had not fully determined on her vacation plans when her mother went away, and now there was necessity for forwarding the address.
“I’ll attend to that the last thing to-night,” Cora went on. “I’ll send mother a long letter, and write again as soon as we get settled at the Cove.”
“If we ever do get settled,” murmured Walter. “Say, boys, am I any less–hammy?” and he sniffed at his coat about which still lingered the smell of gasoline.
“You’re of the ham–saltiest–or hammiest!” declared Ed.
“You may break, you may burn the garage if you will
The taste of the gasoline stays with it still.”
It was Walter who mis-quoted this couplet.
“Oh, boys, please do be quiet!” begged Cora. “We will never get anything done if you don’t!”
“It strikes me we got considerable done a short time ago, when we put that fire out,” remarked Jack. Cora looked sharply at him.
“I’ll be good, Sis–don’t shoot–I’m coming down,” he exclaimed, and he “slumped” at Eline’s feet and made a fruitless endeavor to hold her slim, pretty hand.
“Stop!” she commanded with a blush.
“That’s
