The Motor Girls on the Coast: or, The Waif From the Sea

“I can go up there and get another extinguisher!” cried Cora, indicating the stairway. “I know there’s one there.”

“No need to!” exclaimed Ed, who again had to get a breath of fresh air. But Cora was already in the enclosed stairway.

The next moment she shrieked:

“Oh, what is it? Oh dear! Who is it? Come quick–someone!” Everyone was startled–even the danger of the now almost extinguished fire spreading again could not detract from the import of danger they recognized in Cora’s voice.

Some one seemed to answer her from the stairway.

“Don’t! Please don’t! I did not do it! Let me go! Please do!”

“What is it, Cora?” called Jack, preparing to go to her.

His sister had found a woman in the hallway–a strange woman who seemed much excited. Her pleading tones as she confronted Cora touched the girl’s heart.

“Don’t let them know I am here–not yet!” begged the stranger. “I can explain–everything. Oh, so much depends on this! Please do as I say!”

“All right!” said Cora, making a sudden resolve. “I’ll let you explain.”

“But keep the others back–they are coming!”

“I’ll send them back.” Cora took a few steps toward the door. She could hear some one running across the garage floor.

“It’s all right!” cried Cora. “Go back and fight the fire, boys. I’ll be there in a minute. I want to get that other extinguisher to make certain. But I thought a rat – ”

She knew that would be explanation enough for her cries, and from where they were the boys, girls, and men now in the garage could not see her or the strange woman.

“A rat!” cried Jack, with a laugh, as he heard his sister’s word. “The idea of being frightened at a rat in a time of fire!”

“I guess the rodents will make short tracks,” was Ed’s opinion. “Come on, we’ve got to give it a little more, Jack!”

The boys went back to the fire, Bess, Belle and Eline, who had taken shelter in the garage, watching them. It was pouring too hard to stand outside, and, now that the smoke had mostly disappeared, there was not much discomfort. The danger, too, was practically over, as a can of gasoline that had not burned had been set outside. There had been really more smoke than fire from the first.

Cora went back to the strange woman.

“You need not be afraid,” spoke the girl, in a tone that gave encouragement. “We will not blame you too much–until we have heard your story. But of course I must know who you are.”

“Yes–yes,” answered the woman. She sank down on the stairs. The place was free of smoke, and some distance from the blaze. Suddenly the stranger arose, and clutching Cora’s arm in a grip that hurt, and that showed the nervous tension under which she was laboring, she whispered:

“I know I can trust you–I can tell by your face. But the–others!” she gasped.

“Leave it to me,” answered Cora. “I may be able to think of a way to help you. Go over into the kitchen, and say Miss Cora sent you. It is so dark now the others will not see you. Hurry.”

With her brain in a whirl–wondering upon what strange mystery she had stumbled, Cora thrust the woman forth from the stable. Then, seeing that she advanced toward the house, the girl groped her way up the stairs to get the extinguisher. When she came down the fire was sufficiently conquered as not to need more attention.

“Did a rat get you?” asked Jack. “Say, you do look pale, Sis,” for the electric lights, with which the garage was illuminated, had been turned on. Truly Cora seemed white.

“There are some big ones up there,” she remarked evasively, wondering if the woman would really go to the house.

With unsteady steps the stranger made her way to the kitchen, where two rather frightened maids were watching the progress made in fighting the fire.

“Miss–Miss Cora told me to come here–and wait for her,” faltered the woman. She made no effort to ascend the steps of the back porch.

“Come right in,” urged Nettie. “Or perhaps you would rather sit out here and watch. I’ll get you a chair.”

“Yes, I would–thank you.”

She walked up and sat down.

“I–I had rather be out in the air,” she went on.

Back in the garage the young people were seeing that no lingering spark remained.

“It is all out,” remarked Bess. “Oh, but we’re so soiled and–and smoky.”

“Regular bacon,” remarked Jack with a grin. He looked like a minstrel because of the grime.

“Oh, wasn’t it a narrow escape!” gasped Belle. “Could the lightning have struck?”

“It didn’t seem so,” remarked Cora, not now so nervous. But she was still puzzled over the presence of that strange woman in the garage at the time of the fire.

“It was gasoline–whatever else it was,” declared Jack. “I can tell that by the smell. Maybe some of that we used in an open pan to clean my machine exploded,” he went on to his chums.

“Could it go off by spontaneous combustion?” asked Ed. “It’s possible,” admitted Walter. “Unless some one was smoking in here–some tramp.”

“Oh, no!” protested Cora quickly. The woman did not seem a tramp–certainly she did not smoke.

“We must get the cars back in here,” said Jack. “The rain is slackening now.” This was so, for the shower, though severe, had not been of long duration. “We want them in shape for to-morrow,” he went on.

“Are we going after all this?” asked Belle.

“Certainly!” exclaimed Cora. “This fire didn’t amount to much.”

“I’m much obliged to you,” spoke Jack to the passing workmen who had come in to help. Jack passed them some money.

“We’ll help you roll the cars in,” suggested one.

“Yes, it will be better to roll them by hand than take chances on starting them up, and making sparks,” said Jack. “Come on, boys!”

“Come on, girls!” echoed Cora. “We’ll go to the house.”

While her brother, his chums and the men were putting the autos back in the garage the girls ran through the slackening rain to the rear porch. There Cora found the strange woman sitting, pathetically weary, in the chair Nettie had brought out. “Oh–some one is here!” gasped Belle, who had nearly stumbled over the figure in the darkness. Then one of the maids opened the kitchen door, and a flood of light came out on the porch.

“Wait a minute, girls,” said Cora, in a low voice. “I think I have a little surprise for you.” She motioned to the strange woman.

CHAPTER III

A STRANGE STORY

“Come inside,” Cora said, while the others looked on in amazement. Who could this strange, elderly woman be? Where had she come from? And Cora appeared to know her.

“One of Cora’s charity-cronies,” Ed whispered to Norton, who stood inquisitively near. “Come on. She knows how to take care of that sort.” The boys after putting back the autos had come on to the house.

Jack and Walter were evidently of Ed’s opinion, for they also passed into the house with not more than a glance at the woman. Bess lingered near Cora.

“We will go in here,” Cora said kindly, as she opened from the kitchen a door that led into a room used for special occasions, when many dishes were served. “Then I can have a chance to talk with you. Perhaps you are hungry?” she added.

The woman looked about her as if dazed. Cora saw that she had a face of rather uncommon type. Her deep-set gray eyes were faded to the very tint of her gray hair, and her cheeks, though sunken, outlined features that indicated refinement. Her clothes were very much worn, but comparatively clean and of good material. She wore no hat, nor other head covering.

“Yes, I am hungry, I think,” the woman said. “But I need not keep you from your friends. If you will just have a cup of tea sent in here to me.”

“Oh, they don’t mind,” Cora said, with a laugh. “My friends can be with me any time.” The other girls had gone to get rid of the grime of the fire, as had the boys.

“Very well,” said the woman. “You are so kind.”

Cora scarcely heard this for she was out in the kitchen giving some orders. She soon returned to the little room, and took a chair opposite her guest.

“How did you come to be in the barn?” she asked.

“I went in–to rest,” answered the woman wearily.

“Of course,” Cora said, as if that were an explanation. “But I won’t ask you to talk any more until you have had your tea. There,” as Nettie placed a tray of refreshment beside her, “let me give you your tea first, then you will feel more like talking.” The tea was poured when Jack entered. He looked at Cora questioningly.

“This woman was out in the storm,” Cora truthfully explained without making a clear statement, “and I insisted that she come in.”

“Why, of course,” assented the good-natured brother. “But say, Cora,” and he changed the subject tactfully. “Wasn’t it a good thing mother was not at home? She would have been scared to death.”

“Oh, I know we always have to get mother off first,” she replied. “When we are arranging a trip I count on–happenings.”

“This is your brother?” asked the woman, who seemed to have revived under the influence of that cup of tea.

“Yes,” Cora replied. “Have some of the ham. And some bread.”

A particularly sharp flash of lightning blazed through the room. The storm was not over yet. The three girls from the parlor threw the door of the pantry open, and stood there with very white faces. Even Belle, the rosy one, had gone pale again.

“Oh, do come in here,” wailed Belle. “I am so frightened!”

“With all the others near you?” Cora asked, smiling. Then, seeing the actual terror of her friends she did stand up to comply. “I suppose it was the fire,” apologized Eline. “We are especially nervous to-night.”

“Yes, do go,” begged the woman, “and when I have finished, I will show my gratitude by telling you all a very strange story. One forgets fear, sometimes, when a matter of deeper interest is brought up.”

“Very well,” assented Cora. “I will be back in a few minutes, and then we will all be primed for the wonderful story.”

“What is it?” whispered Jack in the passage-way, as the girls entered the library.

“Hush!” Cora cautioned. “I found her–in the barn.”

“The barn! Before the fire?” he gasped. “Did she – ?”

“After it was–going,” Cora managed to say. Then she put her finger to her lips.

The young folks, at least the girls, insisted upon huddling in the very darkest corner of the room.

“Don’t go near the phonograph,” cautioned Eline. “Musical sounds are very dangerous during a storm, I’ve heard.”

Then the absurdity of “musical sounds” from a silent phonograph occurred to her, and she laughed as quickly as did the others.

“Well it’s metal at any rate,” she amended, “and that is just as bad.” “Who’s your friend, Cora?” Ed asked, in an off-hand way.

“Oh, she is going to tell us a wonderful story,” put in Bess before Cora could reply. “Wait until she has finished her tea.”

“She looks like a deserted wife,” Belle ventured softly, in her usual strain of romance.

“What’s the indication?” asked Walter somewhat facetiously. “Now, do I look anything like a deserted lover?”

Cora got up and went out into the pantry again. She found the woman standing, waiting for her.

“I do not know if I was wise or foolish to have made that promise,” she said. “But as I have made it I will stand by it. I feel also that to talk will do me good. And, after all, what have I to fear more than I have already suffered?”

“We have no idea of insisting on your confidence,” Cora assured her. “But, of course, I would like to know why you went in our garage.”

“And I fully intend to tell you,” replied the woman. “Are you all young folks?”

“Just now, we are alone,” answered Cora. “We are going away to-morrow, and were finishing our arrangements when the barn caught fire.”

“I scarcely look fit to enter your–other room,” the woman demurred, with a glance at her worn clothing. “But I assure you I have been no place where there has been illness, or anything of that sort.”

“You are all right,” insisted Cora. “Come along. I am sure the girls are more frightened than ever now, for the storm is more furious.” The thunder and lightning seemed to be having “a second spasm,” as Jack put it.

A hush fell upon the little party as the strange woman entered. Even the careless one, Norton, looked serious. Somehow the presence of a gray-haired, lonely woman, in that unusually merry crowd, seemed almost a painful contrast.

“Sit here,” said Cora, pulling a chair out in a convenient position. “And won’t you take off your cape?”

“No, thank you,” replied the stranger. “I must talk while I feel like it, or I might disappoint you.” This was said with a smile, and the young folks noted that though the woman showed agitation, her eyes were now bright, and her voice firm.

“Very well,” Cora acceded. Then the woman told her strange story.

“Some time ago I was employed in an office. I had charge of the cataloging of confidential papers. I had been with the firm only a short time, when one day,” she paused abruptly, “one day I was very busy.

“A big piece of business had just been transacted, and there was a lot of ready cash in the office. It was my duty to see that the record of all finished business was entered in the books, and I was intent upon that task.”

Again she paused, and in the interval there came a flame of lightning followed by a roar of thunder.

“My, what a storm!” gasped the woman. “I’m glad I am not out in it.”

The remark seemed pathetic, and served to distract the most nervous of the girls from a fear that they otherwise would have felt.

“We are glad you are with us,” Belle ventured, as Cora hastened out into the kitchen, to make sure that all was right there.

The maids had been startled. Nettie was assuring a new girl that thunder storms were never disastrous in Chelton, but the latter had suddenly become prayerful, and would not answer the simplest questions. Assuring herself that Nettie could take care of the girl and two newly hired men, who had assembled in the kitchen, Cora went back to the library.

“Well, that day,” continued the woman, “marked my life-doom. As I worked over my books, and counted the money, I saw two men standing in the door. A young girl clerk–Nancy Ford–was nearest to them. As she saw them she screamed, and darted past them out–out somewhere in this big world, and I have never been able to find her since.”

The woman put up both hands to cover her pallid face, and sighed heavily. No one spoke. Eline had shifted her chair, unconsciously, very near the stranger, and sat with rapt attention waiting for the continuation of the story.

“Then,” went on the woman, “when Nancy Ford was gone I saw the men come toward me! I screamed, put my hand upon the cash I was counting–and then–they hit me!”

“Oh!” gasped Cora, involuntarily. “They robbed you!”

“Yes, they robbed me!” repeated the woman. “Not only of my employer’s money, but of my reputation, for the story I told afterward was not believed!”

“How dreadful!” exclaimed Bess, clasping her hands.

The boys, less demonstrative, did not interrupt with a single syllable. But they were impressed, nevertheless.

“Yes, I was discharged! I was shocked into a nervous collapse, and ever since I have been searching for Nancy Ford. Why did she run before any harm was done? Why did she flee at the sight of the men, who showed no indication of being robbers? Why did Nancy Ford not return to clear my name? I went to the hospital and was there for months. Oh, such terrible months! I was threatened with brain fever, from that mental searching for Nancy, but she never returned!”

Belle was stirred to sympathy by the recital, and, while no one saw her, brushed by the woman’s chair and slid into the gaping pocket of her cape her own little silver purse.

“My name is Margaret Raymond–Mrs. Raymond. I am a widow,” went on the woman finally, “and I am not ashamed or afraid now to have the world know who I am. I loved Nancy: she was almost like a daughter to me, and I would have trusted her with anything. But now–she has deserted me! And no one else can ever clear my name!”

“No one else?” Cora repeated.

“Some of the firm members believed my story, but it was vague and one could scarcely blame them for doubting it,” said Mrs. Raymond.

“Didn’t it look bad for the girl?” Jack asked. “She ran away?”

“Yes, it did, but a girl somehow has a better 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 willThe 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 my privilege!” called Ed, as he made a quick move, but the visitor from the Windy City escaped by getting behind Bess, who was in the Roman chair.

“If you don’t – ” began Cora determinedly, and then she changed her tone. “Please – ” she pleaded.

“After that–nothing but silence!” came from Walter. “Go easy, boys!”

Silence did reign–or, considering the shower, might one not say “rain” for a moment? Cora resumed.

“We are to start as early in the morning as possible,” she said. “I figured–or rather Jack and Ed did–that the trip to Sandy Point Cove would take about three days–perhaps four if–if anything happened like tire trouble. But we are in no hurry, and we can spend five days on the road if we like.

“My cousin, Mrs. Fordam, will go along with us as a chaperone, so that stopping at hotels will be perfectly–proper.”

“I thought it was always proper to stop at a hotel–when you had the price!” ventured Jack.

“You don’t understand,” declared his sister, giving him a look. “So Cousin Mary will be on the trip with us. I guess you all know her, except Eline and Norton. She’s jolly and funny.”

“Why can’t she go right on to the Cove with us, and chaperone there, too?” Belle wanted to know.

“Because Mamma’s aunt–Mrs. Susan Chester–is to look after us there. You’ll like Aunt Susan, I’m sure.”

“Are we to call her that?” Ed asked.

“Of course–she won’t mind,” spoke Cora. “Well, as I said, we’ll go to the Cove–taking whatever time we please. There are two bungalows there, you know, and we girls are to have the larger one, so – ”