"Why, that's so, Bessie! I hadn't thought of that. My aunt would buy her butter and eggs there, I know. She's always saying that she can't get really fresh eggs in the city. And they are delicious. That was one of the things I liked best at Miss Eleanor's farm. The eggs there were delicious; not a bit like the musty ones we get at home, no matter how much we pay for them."

"I think it's time we were going to bed ourselves, Dolly. This is going to be like camping out, isn't it?"

"Yes, and we'll be just as comfortable as we would be in tents, too. The Boy Scouts use these lean-tos very often when they are in the woods, you know. They just build them up against the side of a tree."

"I never saw one before, but they certainly are splendid, and they're awfully easy to make."

"We'll have to get up very early in the morning, Bessie. I heard Miss Eleanor say so. So I guess it's a good idea to go to bed, just as you say."

"Yes. The others are all going. We certainly are going to have a busy day to-morrow."

"I don't see that we can do much, Bessie. I know I wouldn't be any good at building a house. I'd be more trouble than help, I'm afraid."

"That's all you know about it! There are ever so many things we can do."

"What, for instance?"

"Well, we'll have to get the meals for the men, and you haven't any idea what a lot of men can eat when they're working hard! They have appetites just like wolves."

"Well, I'll certainly do my best to see that they get enough. They'll have earned it. What else?"

"They'll want people to hand them their tools, and run little errands for them. And if the weather is very hot, they'll be terribly thirsty, too, and we'll be able to keep busy seeing that they have plenty of cooling drinks. Oh, we'll be busy, all right! Come on, let's go to bed."



CHAPTER VII

THE HOUSE RAISING

The sun was scarcely up in the morning when Eleanor turned out and aroused the girls.

"We've got to get our own breakfast out of the way in a hurry, girls," she said, "When country people say early, they mean early—EARLY! And we want to have coffee and cakes ready for these good friends of ours when they do come. A good many of them will come from a long way off and I think they'll all be glad to have a little something extra before they start work. It won't hurt us a bit to think so, and act accordingly anyhow."

So within half an hour the Pratts and the Camp Fire Girls had had their own breakfasts, the dishes were washed, and great pots of coffee were boiling on the fires that had been built. And, just as the fragrant aroma arose on the cool air, the first of the teams that brought the workers came in sight, with jovial Jud Harkness driving.

"My, but that coffee smells good, Miss Mercer!" he roared. "Say, I'm not strong for all these city fixin's in the way of food. Plain home cookin' serves me well enough, but there's one thing where you sure do lay all over us, and that's in makin' coffee. Give me a mug of that, Mis' Pratt, an' I'll start work."

And from the way in which the coffee and the cakes, the latter spread with good maple syrup from trees that grew near Cranford, began to disappear, it was soon evident that Eleanor had made no mistake, and that the breakfast that she had had prepared for the workers would by no means be wasted.

"It does me good to see you men eat this way," she said, laughing. "That's one thing we don't do properly in the city—eat. We peck at a lot of things, instead of eating a few plain ones, and a lot of them. And I'll bet that you men will work all the harder for this extra breakfast."

"Just you watch and see!" bellowed Jud. "I'm boss here to-day, ma'am, and I tell you I'm some nigger driver. Ain't I, boys?"

But he accompanied the threat with a jovial wink, and it was easy to see that these men liked and respected him, and were only too willing to look up to him as a leader in the work of kindness in which they were about to engage.

"I don't know why all you boys are so good to me, Jud," said Mrs. Pratt, brokenly. "I can't begin to find words to thank you, even."

"Don't try, Mis' Pratt," said Jud, looking remarkably fierce, though he was winking back something that looked suspiciously like a tear. "I guess we ain't none of us forgot Tom Pratt—as good a friend as men ever had! Many's the time he's done kind things for all of us! I guess it'd be pretty poor work if some of his friends couldn't turn out to help his wife and kids when they're in trouble."

"He knows what you're doing, I'm sure of that," she answered. "And God will reward you, Jud Harkness!"

Heartily as the men ate, however, they spent little enough time at the task. Jud Harkness allowed them what he thought was a reasonable time, and then he arose, stretched his great arms, and roared out his commands.

"Come on, now, all hands to work!" he bellowed. "We've got to get all this rubbish cleared out, then we'll have clean decks for building."

And they fell to with a will. In a surprisingly short space of time the men who had plunged into the ruined foundations of the house had torn out the remaining beams and rafters, and had flung the heap of rubbish that filled the cellar on to the level ground. While some of the men did this, others piled the rubbish on to wagons, and it was carted away and dumped. The fire, however, had really lightened their task for them.

"That fire was so hot and so fierce," said Eleanor, as she watched them working, "that there's less rubbish, than if the things had been only half burned."

"I've seen fires in the city," said Margery, "or, at least, houses after a fire. And it really looked worse than this, because there'd be a whole lot of things that had started to burn. Then the firemen came along, to put out the fire, and, though the things weren't really any good, they had to be carted away."

"Yes, but this fire made a clean sweep wherever it started at all. Ashes are easier to handle than sticks and half ruined pieces of furniture. As long as it had to come, I guess it's a good thing that it was such a hot blaze."

The work of clearing away, therefore, which had to be done, of course, before any actual building could be begun, was soon accomplished.

"We're going to build just the way Tom Pratt did," said Jud Harkness. He was the principal carpenter and builder of Lake Dean, and a master workman. Many of the camps and cottages on the lake had been built by him, and he was, therefore, accustomed to such work.

"You mean you're going to put up a square house?" said Eleanor.

"Yes, ma'am, just a square house, with a hall running right through from the front to the back, and an extension in the rear for a kitchen—just a shack, that will be. Two floors—two rooms on each side of the hall on each floor. That'll give them eight rooms to start with, beside the kitchen."

"That'll be fine, and it will really be the easiest thing to do, too."

"That's what we're figuring, ma'am. You see, it'll be just as it was when Tom Pratt first built here, except that he only put up one story at first. Then, as Mis' Pratt gets things going again, she can add to it, and if she don't get along as fast as she expects, why, we'll lend her a hand whenever she needs it."

"How on earth could you get all the lumber you need ready so quickly? That's one thing I couldn't understand. The work is not so difficult to manage, of course. But the wood—that's what's been puzzling me."

Jud grinned.

"Well, the truth is, ma'am, I expect to have a little argument about that yet with a city chap that's building a house on the lake. I've got the job of putting it up for him, and if it hadn't been for this fire coming along, I'd have started work day before yesterday."

"Oh, and this is the lumber for his house?"

"You guessed it right, ma'am! He'll be wild, I do believe, because there's no telling when I'll get the next lot of lumber through."

"You say the fire stopped you from going ahead with his house?"

"Yes. You see all of us had to turn out when it got so near to Cranford. My house is safe, I do believe. I'm mighty scared of fire, ma'am, and I've always figured on having things fixed so's a fire would have a pretty hard time reaching my property. But of course I had to jump in to help my neighbors—wouldn't be much profit about having the only house left standing in town, would there?"

Eleanor laughed.

"I guess not!" she said. "But what a lucky thing for Mrs. Pratt that you happened to have just the sort of wood she needed!"

"Oh, well, we'd have managed somehow. Of course, it makes it easier, but we'd have juggled things around some way, even if this chap's plans didn't fit her foundations. As it happens, though, they do. Old Tom Pratt had a mighty well-built house here."

"Well, I'm quite sure that just as good a one is going up in its place."

Jud Harkness watched the work of getting out the last of the rubbish. Then he went over to the cleared foundations, and in a moment he was putting up the first of the four corner posts, great beams that looked stout enough to hold up a far bigger house than the one they were to support.

All morning the work went on merrily. As Eleanor had predicted, and Bessie, too, there was plenty for the girls to do. The sun grew hotter and hotter, and the men were glad of the cooling drinks that were so liberally provided for them.

"This is fine!" said Jud Harkness, as he quaffed a great drink of lemonade, well iced. "My, but it's a pleasure to work when it's made so nice for you! I tell you, having these cool drinks here is worth an extra hour's work, morning and afternoon. And what's that—just the nails I want? I'll give you a job as helper, young woman!"

That remark was addressed to Bessie, who flushed with pleasure at the thought that she was playing a part, however small, in the building of the house. And, indeed, the girls all did their part, and their help was royally welcomed by the men.

Quickly the skeleton of the house took form, and by noon, when work was to be knocked off for an hour, the whole framework was up.

"I simply wouldn't have believed it, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes!" said Eleanor. "It's the most wonderful thing I ever saw!"

"Oh, shucks!" said Jud, embarrassed by such, praise. "There's lots of us—I don't think we've done so awful well. But it does look kind of nice, don't it?"

"It's going to be a beautiful house," said Mrs. Pratt. "And to think of what the place looked like yesterday! Well, Jud Harkness, I haven't any words to tell you what I really think, and that's all there is to it!"

For an hour or more Margery and her helpers had been busy at the big fire. At Eleanor's suggestion two of the men had stopped work on the house long enough to put up a rough, long table with benches at the sides, and now the table was groaning with the fine dinner that Margery had prepared.

"Good solid food—no fancy fixings!" Eleanor had decreed. "These men burn up a tremendous lot of energy in work, and we've got to give them good food to replace it. So we don't want a lot of trumpery things, such as we like!"

She had enforced a literal obedience, too. There were great joints of corned beef, red and savory; pots of cabbage, and huge mounds of boiled potatoes. Pots of mustard were scattered along the table, and each man had a pitcher of fine, fresh milk, and a loaf of bread, with plenty of butter. And for dessert there was a luxury—the only fancy part of the meal.

Eleanor had had a whispered conference with Tom Pratt early in the day, as the result of which he had hitched up and driven into Cranford, to return with two huge tubs of ice-cream. He had brought a couple of boxes of cigars, too, and when the meal was over, and the men were getting out their pipes, Eleanor had gone around among them.

"Try one of these!" she had urged. "I know they're good—and I know that when men are working hard they enjoy a first-class smoke."

The cigars made a great hit.

"By Golly! There's nothing she don't think of, that Miss Mercer!" said Jud Harkness appreciatively, as he lit up, and sent great clouds of blue smoke in the air. "Boys, if we don't do a tiptop job on that house to finish it off this afternoon we ought to be hung for a lot of ungrateful skunks. Eh?"

There was a deep-throated shout of approval for that sentiment, and, after a few minutes of rest, during which the cigars were enjoyed to the utmost, Jud rose and once more sounded the call to work.

"I've heard men in the city say that after a heavy meal in the middle of the day, they couldn't work properly in the afternoon," said Eleanor, as she watched the men go about their work, each seeming to know his part exactly. "It doesn't seem to be so with these men, though, does it? I guess that in the city men who work in offices don't use their bodies enough—they don't get enough exercise, and they eat as much as if they did."

"I love cooking for men who enjoy their food the way these do," said Margery happily. "They don't have to say it's good—they show they think so by the way they eat. It's fine to think that people really enjoy what you do. I don't care how hard I work if I think that."

"Well, you certainly had an appreciative lot of eaters to-day, Margery."

As the shadows lengthened and the sun began to go down toward the west the house rapidly assumed the look it would have when it was finished. A good deal of the work, of course, was roughly done. There was no smoothing off of rough edges, but all that could be done later.

And then, as the end of the task drew near, so that the watchers on the ground could see what the finished house would be like, Mrs. Pratt, already overwhelmed by delight at the kindness of her neighbors, had a new surprise that pleased and touched her, if possible, even more than what had gone before. A new procession of wagons came into sight in the road, and this time each was driven by a woman.

And what a motley collection of stuff they did bring, to be sure! Beds and mattresses, bedding, chairs, tables, a big cook stove for the kitchen, pots and pans, china and glass, knives and forks—everything that was needed for the house.

"We just made a collection of all the things we could spare, Sarah Pratt," said sprightly little Mrs. Harkness, a contrast indeed to her huge husband, who could easily lift her with one hand, so small was she. "They ain't much on looks, but they're all whole and clean, and you can use them until you have a chance to stock up again. Now, don't you go trying to thank us—it's nothing to do!"

"Nothing?" exclaimed Mrs. Pratt. "Sue Harkness, don't you dare say that! Why, it means that I'll have a real home to-night for my children—we'll be jest as comfortable as we were before the fire! I don't believe any woman ever had such good neighbors before!"

Long before dark the house was finished, as far as it was to be finished that day. And, as soon as the men had done their work, their wives and the Camp Fire Girls descended on the new house with brooms and pails, and soon all the shavings and the traces of the work had been banished. Then all hands set to work arranging the furniture, and by the time supper was ready the house was completely furnished.

"Well," said Eleanor, standing happily in the parlor, "this certainly does look homelike!"

There was even an old parlor organ. Pictures were on the wall; a good rag carpet was on the floor, and, while the furniture was not new, and had seen plenty of hard service, it was still good enough to use. The Pratt home had certainly risen like a Phoenix from its ashes. And tired but happy, all those who had contributed to the good work sat down to a bountiful supper.



CHAPTER VIII

ON THE MARCH AGAIN

After supper, when the others who had done the good work of rebuilding were ready to go, all the girls of the Camp Fire lined up in front of the new house and sped them on their way with a cheer and the singing of the Wo-he-lo cry.

"Listen to that echo!" said Dolly, as their song was brought back to them. "I didn't notice that last night. Is it always that way?"

"Always," said Tom Pratt. "Folks come here sometimes to yell and hear the echo shout back at them."

"Good!" cried Eleanor. "That supplies a need I've been thinking of all day!"

"What's that, Miss Mercer?" asked Mrs. Pratt.

"Why, if you are going into the business of supplying eggs and butter to the summer folk at the lake and to others in the city, you'll need a name for your farm. Why not call it Echo Farm? That's a good name, and in your case it means something, you see."

"Whatever you say, Miss Mercer! Though I'd never thought of having a name for the place before."

"Lots of things are going to be different for you now, Mrs. Pratt. You're going to be a business woman, and to make a lot of money, you know. Yes, that will look well on your boxes. When I get back to the city I'll have a friend of mine make a drawing and put that name with it, to be put on your boxes, and on all the paper you will use for writing letters."

"Dear me, it's going to be splendid, Miss Mercer! Why, that fire is going to turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to us, I'm sure!"

"I think we can often turn our misfortunes into blessings if we take them the right way, Mrs. Pratt. The thing to do is always to try to look on the bright side, and, no matter how black things seem, to try to see if there isn't some way that we can turn everything to account."

"Well, I would never have done it if you hadn't come along, Miss Mercer. You gave us all courage in the first place, and then you got Jud Harkness and all the others to come and help me this way."

"Oh, they'd have done it themselves, as soon as they heard. I didn't suggest a thing—I just told them the news, and they thought of everything else all by themselves. The only thing I thought of was using your farm so that it would really pay you."

"Now that you've told us how, it seems so easy that I wonder I never thought of it myself."

"Well, lots and lots of farmers just waste their land and themselves, Mrs. Pratt. You're not the only one. My father has a farm, and in his section he's done his level best to make the regular farmers see that there are new ways of farming, just as there are new ways of doing everything else."

"That's what my poor husband always said. He had all sorts of new-fangled ideas, as I used to call them. Maybe he was right, too. But he didn't have money enough to try them and see how they'd do, though we always made a good living off this place."

"Well, the advantage of my idea is that you don't need much money to give it a trial, and if you don't succeed, you won't lose much."

"I think we'd be pretty stupid if we didn't succeed, after the fine start you've given us, and the way you've told me what to do."

"Well, I think so myself," said Eleanor, with a frank laugh. "And I know you're not stupid—not a bit of it! It's going to be hard work, but I'm sure you'll succeed. You'll be able to hire someone to do most of the work for you before long, I think, and then you'll have to have a rest, and come down to visit me in the city."

"Well, well, I do hope so, Miss Mercer! I ain't been in the city since I don't know when. Tom—my husband—took me once, but that was years and years ago, and I expect there's been a lot of changes since then."

"I'm going to keep an eye on you, Mrs. Pratt. And I feel as if I were a sort of partner in this business, so if you don't make as much money as I think you ought to, why, you'll hear from me. I can promise you that! Girls, we'll sleep in the lean-to to-night, and in the morning we'll be off, bright and early."

"Oh," said Mrs. Pratt, "have you really got to go? And you'll not sleep out to-night! You'll take the house, and we'll be the ones to sleep outside."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Pratt! Who should be the ones to sleep in this fine new house the first night but you? We love to sleep in the open air, really we do! It's no hardship, I can tell you."

And, despite all of Mrs. Pratt's protests, it was so arranged.

"I'll hate to go away from here—really I will!" said Dolly, to Bessie. "It's been perfectly fine, helping these people. And I feel as if we'd really done something."

"Well, we certainly have, Dolly," said Bessie.

"I do hope that butter and egg business will do well."

"I know it's going to do well," said Eleanor, who had overheard. "And one reason is that you girls are going to help. Now we must all get to sleep, or we'll never get started in the morning. I think we'll have to ride part of the way to the seashore in the train, after all. We don't want to be too late in getting there, you know."

And in a few minutes silence reigned over the place. It was a picture of peace and content—a vast contrast to the scene of the previous night, when desolation and gloom seemed to dominate everything.

Parting in the morning brought tears alike to the eyes of those who stayed behind and those who were going on. The experience of the last two days had brought the Pratts and the girls of the Camp Fire very close together, and the Pratt children—the younger ones at least—wept and refused to be comforted when they learned that their new friends were going away.

"Cheer up," said Eleanor. "We'll see you again, you know. Maybe we'll all come up next summer. And we've had a good time, haven't we?"

"We certainly have!" said Mrs. Pratt, and there was sincerity, as well as pleasure, in her tone. "I've often heard that good came out of evil, and joy out of sorrow, but I never had any such reason to believe it before this!"

Before the final parting, Eleanor had shown Mrs. Pratt exactly what she meant about the new way in which the butter was to be made.

"Of course, as your business grows, you will want to get better machinery," she had said. "That will make the work much easier, and you will be able to do it more quickly too, and with less help than if you stuck to the old-fashioned way."

"I'm going to take your advice in everything about running this farm, Miss Mercer," Mrs. Pratt had replied. "You've certainly shown that you know what you're talking about so far."

"Take a trip down to my father's farm some time, Mrs. Pratt, and they'll be glad to show you everything they have there, I know. My father is very anxious for all the farmers in his neighborhood to profit by any help they can get. The only trouble is that a good many of them seem to feel that he is interfering with them."

"Well, if they're as stupid as that, it serves them right to keep on losing money, Miss Mercer."

"But it's natural, after all. You see they've run their farms their own way all their lives, and it's the way they learned from their fathers. So it isn't very strange that they're apt to feel that they know more, from all that practice and experiment, than city people who are farming scientifically."

"Does your father enjoy farming?"

"He says he does—and it's a curious thing that he makes that farm pay its way, even allowing for a whole lot of things he does that aren't really necessary. That's what proves, you see, that his theories are right—they pay.

"Of course, he could afford to lose money on it, and you can't make a whole lot of those farmers in our neighborhood believe that he doesn't. So now he is having the books of the farm fixed up so that any of the farmers around can see them, and find out for themselves how things are run."

Tired as the girls of the Camp Fire had been the night before, they were wonderfully refreshed by their night's sleep. The weather was much more pleasant than it had been, and a brisk wind had driven off much of the smoke that still remained when they reached the Pratt farm as a reminder of the scourge of fire. So the conditions for walking were good, and Eleanor Mercer set a round, swinging pace as they started off.

"I'll really be glad to get out of this burned district. It's awfully gloomy, isn't it, Bessie?" said Dolly.

"Yes, especially when you realize what it means to the people who live in the path of the fire," answered Bessie. "Seeing the Pratts as they were when we came up has given me an altogether new idea of these forest fires."

"Yes. That's what I mean. It's bad enough to see the forest ruined, but when you think of the houses, and all the other things that are burned, too, why, it seems particularly dreadful."

"Tom Pratt told me that a whole lot of animals were caught in the fire, too—chipmunks, and squirrels, and deer. That seems dreadful."

"Oh, what a shame! I should think they could manage to get away, Bessie. Don't you suppose they try?"

"Oh, yes, but you see they can't reason the way human beings do, and a lot of these fires burn around in a circle, so that while they were running away from one part of the fire they might very easily be heading straight for another, and get caught right between two fires."

Soon, however, they passed a section where the land had been cleared of trees for a space of nearly a mile, and, once they had travelled through it, they came to the deep green woods again, where no marring traces of the fire spoiled the beauty of their trip.

"Ah, don't the woods smell good!" said Dolly. "So much nicer than that old smoky smell! I never smelt anything like that! It got so that everything I ate tasted of smoke. I'm certainly glad to get to where the fire didn't come."

Now the ground began to rise, and before long they found themselves in the beginning of Indian Gap. The ground rose gradually, and when they stopped for their midday meal, in a wild part of the gap, none of the girls were feeling more than normally and healthfully tired.

"Do many people come through here, Miss Eleanor?" asked Margery.

"At certain times, yes. But, you see, the forest fires have probably made a lot of people who intended to take this trip change their minds. In a way it's a good thing, because we will be sure to find plenty of room at the Gap House. That's where we are to spend the night. Sometimes when there's a lot of travel, it's very crowded there, and uncomfortable."

"Is it a regular hotel?"

"No, it's just a place for people to sleep. It's where the trail starts up Mount Sherman, and it's the station of the railroad that runs to the top of the mountain, too, for people who are too lazy to climb. There's a gorgeous view there in the mornings, when the sun rises. You can see clear to the sea."

"Oh, can't we stop and see that?"

"We haven't time to climb the mountain. If you want to go up on the incline railway, though, we can manage it. You get up at three o'clock in the morning, and get to the top while it's still dark, so that you can see the very beginning of the sunrise."

There was not a dissenting voice to the plan to make the trip, and it was decided to take the little extra time that would be required.

"After all," said Eleanor, "we can get such an early start afterward that it won't take very much time. And to-morrow we'll finish our tramp through the gap, and stop at Windsor for the night. Then the next day we'll take the train straight through to the seashore. I think really we'll have more fun, and get more good out of it if we spend the time there than if we go through with our original plan of doing more walking before getting on the train."

"Yes. We've lost quite a little time already, haven't we?" said Margery.

"Two whole days at Lake Dean, and two days more staying with the Pratts," said Eleanor. "That's four days, and one can walk quite a long distance in four days if one sets one's mind and one's feet to it."

"Well, we certainly couldn't help the delay," said Margery. "At Lake Dean the fire held us—and I wouldn't think very much of any crowd that could see the trouble those poor people were in and not stay to help them."

They slept well in the early part of that night in the rough quarters at the Gap House, and, while it was still dark, they were routed out to catch the funicular railway on its first trip of the day up Mount Sherman.

At first, when they were at the top of the mountain, there was nothing to be seen. But soon the sky in the east began to lighten and grow pink, then the fog that lay below them began to melt away, and, as the sun rose, they saw the full wonder of the spectacle.

"I never saw anything so beautiful in all my life!" exclaimed Bessie with a sigh of delight. "See how it seems to gild everything as the light rises, Dolly!"

"Yes, and you can see the sea, way off in the distance! How tiny all the towns and villages look from here! It's just like looking at a map, isn't it?"

"Well, it was certainly worth getting up in the middle of the night to see it, Bessie. And I do love to sleep, too!"

"I'd stay up all night to see this, any time. I never even dreamed of anything so lovely."

"We were very fortunate," said Eleanor, with a smile. "I've been up here when the fog was so thick that you couldn't see a thing, and only knew the sun had risen because it got a little lighter. I've known it to be that way for a week at a time, and some people would stay, and come up here morning after morning, and be disappointed each time!"

"That's awfully mean," said Dolly. "I suppose, though, if they had never seen it, they wouldn't mind so much, because they wouldn't know what they were missing."

"They never seemed very happy about it, though," laughed Eleanor. "Well, it's time to go down again, and be off for Windsor. And then to-morrow morning we'll be off for the seashore. We're to camp there, right on the beach, instead of living in a house. That will be much better, I think."



CHAPTER IX

A STARTLING DISCOVERY

"Bessie, why are you looking so glum?" asked Dolly, as they started on the last part of their walk, taking the Windsor road.

"Am I? I didn't realize I was, Dolly. But—well, I suppose it's because I'm rather sorry we're leaving the mountains."

"I think the seashore is every bit as nice as the mountains. There are ever so many things to do, and I know you'll like Plum Beach, where we're going. It's the dandiest place—"

"It couldn't be as nice as this, Dolly."

"Oh, that seems funny to me, Bessie. I've always loved the seashore, ever since I can remember. And, of course, since I've learned to swim, I've enjoyed it even more than I used to."

"You can't swim much in the sea, can you? Isn't the surf too heavy?"

"The surf's good fun, even if you don't do any swimming in it, Bessie. It picks you up and throws you around, and it's splendid sport. But down at Plum Beach you can have either still water or surf. You see, there's a beach and a big cove—and on that beach the water is perfectly calm, unless there's a tremendous storm, and we're not likely to run into one of those."

"How is that, Dolly? I thought there was always surf at the seashore."

"There's a sand bar outside the cove, and it's grown so that it really makes another beach, outside. And on that there is real surf. So we can have whichever sort of bathing we like best, or both kinds on the same day, if we want."

"Maybe I'll like it better when I see it, then. Because I do love to swim, and I don't believe I'd enjoy just letting the surf bang me around."

"Why, Bessie, you say you may like it better when you see it? Haven't you ever been to the seashore?"

"I certainly never have, Dolly! You seem to forget that I've spent all the time I can remember in Hedgeville."

"I do forget it, all the time. And do you know why? It's because you seem to know such an awful lot about other places and things you never saw there. I suppose they made you read books."

"Made me! That was one of the things Maw Hoover used to get mad at me for doing. Whenever she saw me reading a book it seemed to make her mad, and she'd say I was loafing, and find something for me to do, even if I'd hurried through all the chores I had so that I could get at the book sooner."

"Then you used to like to read?"

"Oh, yes, I always did. The Sunday School had a sort of library, and I used to be able to get books from there. I love to read, and you would, too, Dolly, if you only knew how much fun you have out of books."

Dolly made a face.

"Not the sort of books my Aunt Mabel wants me to read," she said decidedly. "Stupid old things they are! It's just like going to school all over again. I get enough studying at school, thanks!"

"But you like to know about people and places you've never seen, don't you!"

"Yes, but all the books I've ever seen that tell you about things like that are just like geographies. They give you a lot of things you have to remember, and there's no fun to that."

"You haven't read the right sort of books, that's all that's the matter with you, Dolly. I tell you what—when we get back to the city, we '11 get hold of some good books, and take turns reading them aloud to one another. I think that would be good fun."

"Well, maybe if they taught me as much as you seem to know about places you've never seen I wouldn't mind reading them. Anyhow, books or no books, you're going' to love the seashore. Oh, it is such a delightful place—Plum Beach."

"Tell me about it, Dolly."

"Well, in the first place, it isn't a regular seaside place at all. I mean there aren't any hotels and boardwalks and things like that. It's about ten miles from Bay City, and there they do have everything like that. But Plum Beach is just wild, the way it always has been. And I don't see why, because it's the best beach I ever saw—ever so much finer than at Bay City."

"I'll like the beach."

"Yes, I know you will. And because it's sort of wild and desolate, and off by itself that way, you can have the best time there you ever dreamed of. Last year we put on our bathing suits when we got up, and kept them on all day. You go in the water, you see, and then, if you lie down on the beach for half an hour, you're dry. The sun shines right down on the sand, and it's as warm as it can be."

"I suppose that's why you like it so much—because you don't have the trouble of dressing and undressing."

"It's one reason," said Dolly, who never pretended about anything, and was perfectly willing to admit that she was lazy. "But it's nice to have the beach to yourselves, too, the way we do. You see, when we get there we'll find tents all set up and ready for us."

"Is there any fishing?"

Dolly smacked her lips.

"You bet there is!" she said. "Best sea bass you ever tasted, and about all you can catch, too! And it tastes delicious, because the fish down there get cooked almost as soon as they're caught. And there are lobsters and crabs—and it's good fun to go crabbing. Then at low tide we dig for clams, and they're good, too—I'll bet you never dreamed how good a clam could be!"

"How about the other things—milk, and eggs, and all those!"

"Oh, that's easy! There are a lot of farms a little way inland, and we get all sorts of fine things from them."

"I wonder if Mr. Holmes will try to play any tricks on us down there, Dolly. He has about everywhere we've been since Zara and I joined the Camp Fire Girls, you know."

"I'm hoping he won't find out, Bessie. That would be fine. I certainly would like to know why he is so anxious to get hold of you and Zara. I bet it's money, and that there's some secret about you."

"Money? Why, he's got more than he can spend now! Even if there is a secret, I don't see how money can have anything to do with it."

"Well, you remember this, Bessie: the more money people have, the more they seem to want. They're never content. It's the people who only have a little who seem to be happy, and willing to get along with what they have. How about your old Farmer Weeks?"

"That's so, Dolly. He certainly was that way. He had more money than anyone in Hedgeville or anywhere near it, and yet he was the stingiest, closest fisted old man in town."

"There you are!"

"Still I think Mr. Holmes must be a whole lot richer than Farmer Weeks, or than all the other people in Hedgeville put together. And it doesn't seem as if there was any money he could make out of Zara or me that would tempt him to do what he's done."

"Do you know what I've noticed most, Bessie, about the way he's gone to work?"

"No. What?"

"The way he has spent money. He's acted as if he didn't care a bit how much it cost him, if only he got what he wanted. And people in the city never spend money unless they expect to get it back."

"Who's the detective now! You called me one a little while ago, but it seems to me that you're doing pretty well in that line yourself."

"Oh, it's all right to laugh, but, just the same, I'll bet that when we get at the bottom of all this mystery, we'll find that the chief reason Mr. Holmes was in it was that he wanted to get hold of some information that would make it easy for him to get a whole lot more than it cost him."

"Well, maybe you're right, Dolly. But I'd certainly like to know just what he has got up his sleeve."

"I think he'll be careful for a little while now, Bessie. He never knew that Miss Eleanor had that letter he'd written to the gypsy. And it must have damaged him a lot to have as much come out about that as did."

"I expect a lot of people who heard it didn't believe it."

"Even if that's so, I guess there were plenty who did believe it, and who think now that Mr. Holmes is a pretty good man to leave alone. You see, that proved absolutely that he had really hired that gypsy to carry you off, and that is a pretty mean thing to do. And people must know by this time that if there was any legal way of getting you and Zara away from the Camp Fire and Miss Mercer, he would do it."

"But he didn't get into any trouble for doing it, Dolly."

"He's got so much money that he could hire lawyers to get him out of almost any scrape he got in, Bessie. That's the trouble. Those people at Hamilton were afraid of him. They know how rich he is, and they didn't want to take any chance of making him angry at them."

"Yes, that's just it. And I'm afraid he's got so much money that a whole lot of people who would say what they really thought if they weren't afraid of him, are on his side. You see, he says that I'm a runaway, just because I didn't stay any longer with the Hoovers. And probably he can make a whole lot of people think that I was very ungrateful, and that he is quite right in trying to get me back into the same state as Hedgeville."

"They'd better talk to Miss Eleanor, if he makes them think that. They'll soon find out which is right and which is wrong in that business. And if she doesn't tell them, I guess Mr. Jamieson will—and he'd be glad of the chance, too!"

"Let's not worry about him, anyhow. I hope he won't find out where we are, too. We haven't seen or heard anything of him since we went back to Long Lake from Hamilton, so I don't see why there isn't a good chance of his letting us alone for a while now."

They reached Windsor, the little town at the other end of Indian Gap, late in the afternoon, having cooked their midday meal in the gap.

"I know the people in a big boarding-house here," said Eleanor, "and we'll be very comfortable. In the morning we'll take an early train, so that we can get to Plum Beach before it's too late to get comfortably settled. I've sent word on ahead to have the tents ready for us, but, even so, there will be a good many things to do."

"There always are," sighed Dolly. "That's the one thing I don't like about camping out."

"I expect really, if you only knew the truth, Dolly, it's the one thing you like best of all," smiled Eleanor. "That's one of the great differences between being at home, where everything is done for you, and camping out, where you have to look after yourself."

"Well, I don't like work, anyhow, and I don't believe I ever shall, Miss Eleanor, no matter what it's called. Some of it isn't as bad as some other kinds, that's all."

Eleanor laughed to herself, because she knew Dolly well enough not to take such declarations too seriously.

"I've got some work for you to-night," she said. "I want you and Bessie to go to a meeting of the girls that belong to one of the churches here, and tell them about the Camp Fire. They found out we were coming, and they would like to know if they can't start a Camp Fire of their own.

"And I think they'll get a better idea of things, and be less timid and shy about asking questions if two of you girls go than if I try to explain. I will come in later, after they've had a chance to talk to you two, but by that time they ought to have a pretty clear idea."

"That's not work, that's fun," declared Dolly.

"I'm glad you think so, because you will be more likely to be successful."

And so after supper Bessie and Dolly went, with two girls who called for them, to the Sunday School room of one of the Windsor churches, ready to do all they could to induce the local girls to form a Camp Fire of their own. And, being thoroughly enthusiastic, they soon fired the desire of the Windsor girls.

"They won't have just one Camp Fire; they'll have two or three," predicted Dolly, when she and Bessie were walking back to the boarding-house later with Eleanor Mercer. "They asked plenty of questions, all right. Nothing shy about them, was there, Bessie?"

Bessie laughed.

"Not if asking questions proves people aren't shy," she admitted. "I thought they'd never stop thinking of things to ask."

"That's splendid," said Eleanor. "The Camp Fire is the best thing these girls could have. It will do them a great deal of good, and I was sure that the way to make them see how much they would enjoy it was to let them understand how enthusiastic you two were. That meant more to them than anything I could have said, I'm sure."

"I don't see why," said Dolly.

"Because they're girls like you, Dolly, and it's what you like, and show you like, that would appeal to them. I'm older, you see, and they might think that things that I would expect them to like wouldn't really please them at all."

"What's the matter with you, Bessie?" asked Dolly suddenly, as they reached the house. She was plainly concerned and surprised, and Eleanor, rather startled, since she had seen nothing in Bessie to provoke such a question, looked at her keenly.

"Nothing, except that I'm a little tired, I think."

But Dolly wasn't satisfied. She knew her chum too well.

"You've got something on your mind, but you don't want to worry us," she said. "Better own up, Bessie!"

Bessie, however, would not answer. And in the morning she seemed to be her old self. Just as they were starting for the train, though, Bessie suddenly hung back at the door of the boarding-house.

"Wait for me a minute, Dolly," she said. "I left a handkerchief in our room. I'll be right down. Go on, the rest of you; we'll soon catch up."

She ran upstairs for the handkerchief.

"I left it behind on purpose, Dolly," she explained, when she came down. "I wanted them to go ahead. Ah, look!"

As they went along, with most of the girls fully a hundred yards ahead of them, a lurking figure was plainly to be seen following the girls.

"It's Jake Hoover!" said Dolly excitedly.

"I thought I saw him last night. That was why you thought something was wrong, Dolly," said Bessie. "But I wanted to make sure before I said anything."

"That means trouble," said Dolly.



CHAPTER X

A MEETING—AND A CONVERSION

"Trouble—he's always meant that every time we've seen him!" said Bessie bitterly.

"How do you suppose he has managed to be away from home so much, Bessie?"

"I don't know, Dolly, but I'm afraid he's got into some sort of trouble. I'm quite sure that Mr. Holmes and that lawyer, Mr. Brack, have got something against him—that they know something he's afraid they will tell."

"Say, I'll bet you 're right! You know, he must be an awful coward—and yet, the way he goes after you, he takes a lot of chances, doesn't he? It does look as if, no matter how much it may frighten him to do what he does, he's still more afraid not to do it."

"Look out—get behind this tree! I don't want him to see us here if we can help it. It would be better if he thought he hadn't been noticed at all, don't you think?"

"Yes. And it's a very good thing we saw him, Bessie. Now we know that we must look out for squalls at Plum Beach, and they don't know we're warned at all. So maybe it will be easier to beat them."

"Look here, Dolly, isn't there another train to Plum Beach? A later one, that would get us there an hour or so after the other girls, if they go on this one?"

"There certainly is, Bessie; but how can we wait for it? Miss Eleanor would be worried."

"Oh, we'll have to let her know what we're going to do, of course. How soon does that train go?"

"Not for half an hour yet. Miss Mercer wanted to be at the station very early so that all the baggage would surely be checked in time to go on the same train with us."

"Well, that makes it easy, Dolly. I tell you what. I'll stay here, and follow very slowly, when Jake gets out of sight, so that he won't see me. And if you go right across the street, and cut across the lots there, you can get to the railroad station from the other side."

"I know the way—I saw that last night, though not because I expected to do it."

"All right, then. You take that way, and get hold of Miss Eleanor quietly. Better not let the others hear what you're saying, and keep your eyes open for Jake, too. But I don't believe he'll show himself in the station."

"Do you think she'll let us do it!"

"I don't see why not. We'll be perfectly safe. I'm sure Jake is here alone, and he wouldn't dare try to do anything to stop us here. He knows that he'd get into trouble if he did, and I don't think he's very brave, even in this new fashion of his unless some of the people he's afraid of are right around to spur him on. You remember how Will Burns thrashed him? He didn't look very brave then, did he?"

"I should say not! All right, I'll tell her and see what she says. Then I'll get back to the boarding-house. You'll go there, won't you?"

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea at all. The best thing for you to do is to wait for me right there in the station. The ticket agent is a woman, and I'm sure she'll let you stay with her until I come, if you get Miss Eleanor to speak to her. Miss Eleanor knows all the people here, and they all like her, and would do anything she asked them to do, if they could.

"And it's easier for me to get to the station without being seen than to the boarding-house. Besides, I think it's right around the station that we'll have the best chance of finding out what they mean to do."

"All right! I'll obey orders," said Dolly. "You're right, too, I think, Bessie."

Jake Hoover, creeping along, was out of sight when Dolly made a swift dash across the street, and in a minute she had disappeared. Bessie knew that Dolly's movements, always rapid, were likely to prove altogether too elusive for Jake's rather slow mind to follow, and, moreover, she was not much afraid of detection, even should Jake catch a glimpse of her chum. Jake was sure that all the Camp Fire Girls were in front of him; he would not, therefore, be looking in the rear for any of them, especially for those he wanted to track down.

Bessie had the harder task. She had to keep herself from Jake's observation until after the train had gone, in any case, and as much longer as possible. As she had told Dolly, she was not very much afraid of anything he might attempt against them, but she saw no use in running any avoidable risks.

Once Jake was out of sight, she made her way slowly toward the station, prepared to make an instant dash for cover should she see Jake returning.

The one thing that was likely to cause him to come back toward her, she figured, was the presence of Holmes or one of the other men who were behind him in the conspiracy, and she was taking the chance, of course, that one of these men was behind her, and a spectator of her movements.

But she could not avoid that. If one of them was there he was, that was all, and she felt that by acting as she had decided to do, she had, at all events, everything to gain and nothing to lose.

The road from the boarding-house to the station was perfectly straight for about three-quarters of a mile, and parallel with the railroad tracks. Then, when the road came to a point opposite the station, it came also to a crossroad, and, about a hundred yards down this crossroad was the station itself.

Bessie reached that point without anything to alarm her or upset her plans, and there she was lucky enough to find a big billboard at the corner, which happened to be a vacant lot. Behind this billboard she took shelter thankfully, feeling sure that it would enable her to see what Jake was doing without any danger of being discovered by him.

As she had expected, Jake did not enter the station. She had no sooner taken up her position in the shelter of the billboard than she was able to single him out from the men who were lounging about, waiting for the train. His movements were still furtive and sly, and Bessie had to repress a shudder of disgust. Such work seemed to bring out everything small and mean and sly in Jake's nature, and Bessie's thoughts were full of sympathy for his father. After all, Paw Hoover had always been good to her, and when she and Zara had run away from Hedgeville, he had helped them instead of turning them back, as he might so easily have done. It seemed strange to Bessie that so good and kind a man should have such a worthless son.

Twice, as Bessie looked, she saw Jake approach one of the windows of the station building furtively, but each time he was scared away from it before he had a chance to look in.

"Trying to make sure that I'm in there, and afraid of being seen at his spying," decided Bessie. "That's great! If he doesn't see me, he'll just decide that I must be there anyhow, and take a chance. It's a good thing he's such a coward. But I wonder what he thinks we'd do to him, even if we did see him?"

She laughed at the thought. Never having had a really guilty conscience herself, Bessie had no means of knowing what a torturing, weakening thing it is. She could not properly imagine Jake's mental state, in which everything that happened alarmed him. Having done wrong, he fancied all the time that he was about to be haled up, and made to pay for his wrongdoing. And that, of course, was the explanation of his actions, when, as a matter of fact, he could have walked with entire safety into the station and the midst of the Camp Fire Girls.

Soon the whistle of the train that was to carry the Camp Fire Girls to Plum Beach was heard in the distance, and a minute later it roared into the station, stopped, and was off again. Seeing a great waving of handkerchiefs from the last car, Bessie guessed what they meant. Miss Eleanor had agreed to her plan, and this was the way the girls took of bidding her good-bye and good luck.

As soon as the train had gone Jake rushed into the station, and Bessie walked boldly toward it, a new idea in her mind. She had made up her mind that to be afraid of Jake Hoover was a poor policy. If the guess she and Dolly had made concerning his relations with those who were persecuting her was correct, Jake must be a good deal more afraid of them, or of what he had done, than she could possibly be of him, and Bessie knew that there should be no great difficulty in dealing very much as she liked with a coward.

Moreover, the presence of a policeman at the station gave her assurance that she need fear no physical danger from Jake, and she felt that was the only thing that need check her at all.

When she reached the station she looked in the window first, and saw Jake standing by the ticket agent's window. The ticket agent was also the telegraph operator, and Bessie saw that she was writing something on a yellow telegraph blank. Evidently Jake was sending a message, and Bessie knew that, while he could read a very little, Jake had always been so stupid and so lazy that he had never learned to write properly. The sight made her smile, because, unless her plans had miscarried completely, Dolly was inside the little ticket office, and must be hearing every word of that message!

So she waited until Jake, satisfied, turned from the window, and then she walked boldly in. For a minute Jake, who was looking out of one of the windows in front toward the track, did not see her at all. In that moment Bessie got in line with the ticket window and, seeing Dolly, waved to her to come out. Then she walked over to Jake, smiled at his amazed face as he turned to her, and saluted him cheerfully.

"Hello, Jake Hoover," she said. "Were you looking for me!"

Jake's face fell, and he stared at her in comical dismay.

"Well, I snum!" he said. "How in tarnation did you come to git off that there train, hey?"

"I never was on it, Jake," said Bessie, pleasantly. "You just thought I was, you see. You don't want to jump to a conclusion so quickly."

Jake was petrified. When he saw Dolly come out of the ticket office, puzzled by Bessie's action, but entirely willing to back her up, his face turned white.

"You're a pretty poor spy, Jake," said Dolly, contemptuously. "I guess Mr. Holmes won't be very pleased when he gets your message at Canton, telling him Bessie went on that train and then doesn't find her aboard at all."

"What's that?" asked Bessie, suddenly. "Is that the message he sent, Dolly!"

"It certainly is," said Dolly. "Why, what's the matter, Bessie?"

But Bessie didn't answer her. Instead she had raced toward a big railroad map that hung on the wall of the station, and was looking for Canton on it.

"I thought so!" she gasped. Then she ran over to the ticket window, and spoke to the agent.

"If I send a telegram right now, can it be delivered to Miss Mercer, on that train that just went out, before she gets to Canton?" she asked.

The agent looked at her time-table.

"Oh, yes," she said, cheerfully. "That's easy. I'll send it right out for you, and it will reach her at Whitemarsh which is only twenty-five miles away."

"Good!" said Bessie, and wrote out a long telegram. In a minute she returned to Jake and Dolly, and the sound of the ticking telegraph instrument filled the station with its chatter.

"He wanted to run away, Bessie," said Dolly. "But I told him it wasn't polite to do that when a young lady wanted to talk to him, so he stayed. That was nice of him, wasn't it?"

"Very," said Bessie, her tone as sarcastic as Dolly's own. "Now, look here, Jake, what have you done that makes you so afraid of Mr. Holmes and these other wicked men?"

Jake's jaw fell again, but he was speechless. He just stared at her.

"There's no use standing there like a dying calf, Jake Hoover!" said Bessie, angrily. "I know perfectly well you've been up to some dreadful mischief, and these men have told you that if you don't do just as they tell you they'll see that you're punished. Isn't that true?"

"How—how in time did you ever find that out?" stammered Jake.

"I've known you a long time, Jake Hoover," said Bessie, crisply. "And now tell me this. Haven't I always been willing to be your friend? Didn't I forgive you for all the mean things you did, and help you every way I could? Did I ever tell on you when you'd done anything wrong, and your father would have licked you?"

Bessie's tone grew more kindly as she spoke to him, and Jake seemed to be astonished. He hung his head, and his look at her was sheepish.

"No, I guess you're a pretty good sort, Bessie," he said. "Mebbe I've been pretty mean to you—"

"It's about time you found it out!" said Dolly, furiously. "Oh, I'd like to—"

"Let him alone, Dolly," said Bessie. "I'm running this. Now, Jake, look here. I want to be your friend. I'm very fond of your father, and I'd hate to see him have a lot of sorrow on your account. Don't you know that these men would sacrifice you and throw you over in a minute if they thought they couldn't get anything more out of you? Don't you see that they're just using you, and that when they've got all they can, they'll let you get into any sort of trouble, without lifting a finger to save you?"

"Do you think they'd do that, Bessie? They promised—"

"What are their promises worth, Jake? You ought to know them well enough to understand that they don't care what they do. If you're in trouble, I know someone who will help you. Mr. Jamieson, in the city."

"He—why, he would like to get me into trouble—"

"No, he wouldn't. And if I ask him to help you, I know he'll do it. He can do more for you than they can, too. You go to him, and tell him the whole story, and you'll find he will be a good friend, if you make up your mind to behave yourself after this. We'll forget all the things you've done, and you shall, too, and start over again. Don't you want to be friends, Jake?"

"Sure—sure I do, Bessie!" said Jake, looking really repentant. "Do you mean you'd be willing—that you'd be friends with me, after all the mean things I've done to you?"

Bessie held out her hand.

"I certainly do, Jake," she said. "Now, you go to Mr. Jamieson, and tell him everything you know. Everything, do you hear? I can guess what this latest plot was, but you tell him all you know about it. And you'll find that they've told you a great many things that aren't so at all. Very likely they've just tried to frighten you into thinking you were in danger so that they could make you do what they wanted."

"I'll do it, Bessie!" said Jake.



CHAPTER XI

A NARROW ESCAPE

Despite Dolly's frantic curiosity, Bessie drew Jake aside where there was no danger of their being overheard by any of the others in the station, and talked to him earnestly for a long time. Jake seemed to have changed his whole attitude. He was plainly nervous and frightened, but Dolly could see that he was listening to Bessie with respect. And finally he threw up his head with a gesture entirely strange to him, and, when Bessie held out her hand, shook it happily.

"Here's Mr. Jamieson's address," said Bessie, writing on a piece of paper which she handed to him. "Now you go straight to him, and do whatever he tells you. You'll be all right. How soon will you start?"

"There's a train due right now," said Jake, excitedly. "I'll get aboard, and as soon as I get to town I'll do just as you say, Bessie. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Jake—and good luck!" said Bessie warmly. "We're going to be good friends, now."

"Well, I never!" gasped Dolly. She stared at Jake's retreating form, and then back to Bessie; as if she were paralyzed with astonishment. "Whatever does this mean, Bessie? I should think you would be pretty hard up for friends before you'd make one of Jake Hoover!"

"Jake's been more stupid than mean, Dolly. And he's found out that he's been wrong, I'm sure. From this time he's going to do a whole lot for us, unless I'm badly mistaken. I'm sure it's better to have him on our side than against us."

"I'm not sure of anything of the sort, Bessie. But do tell me what happened. Why did you send that telegram to Miss Eleanor? And what was in it?"

"I sent it because if I hadn't she would have walked right into a trap—she and Zara. Maybe it was too late, but I hope not. And our staying behind here was a mighty lucky thing. If we hadn't had some warning of what Mr. Holmes and the others were planning, I don't know what would have happened! Zara and I would have been caught, I'm quite sure."

"Don't be so mysterious, Bessie," begged Dolly. "Tell me what you found out, can't you? I'm just as excited and interested as you are, and I should think you would know it, too."

"You'll see it all soon enough, Dolly. Let's find out how soon the next train comes."

"In twenty minutes," said the ticket agent, in answer to the question.

"And is it a through train—an express?" asked Bessie. "Have you a time-table? I'd like to see just where it stops."

She got the time-table, and, after she had examined it carefully, heaved a sigh of relief.

"The train doesn't stop at any place that isn't marked down for it on the time-table, does it?" she said, as she bought the tickets.

"No, indeed. That's a limited train, and it's almost always on time. They wouldn't stop that except at the regular places for anyone."

"That's all right, then," said Bessie. "Dolly, can't you see the point yet for yourself? Go and look at the map, and if you can't see then, why, I'm not going to tell you! If you're as stupid as all that, you deserve to wait!"

Bessie laughed, but Dolly understood that the laugh was not one of amusement alone, but that Bessie was undergoing a reaction after some strain that had worried her more than she was willing to admit or to show.

"I guess I'm stupid all right," she said, after she had looked at the map. "I don't know what you're driving at, but I suppose you do, and that makes it all right. I'm willing to do whatever you say, but I do like to know why and how things like that are necessary. And I don't think I'm unreasonable, either."

"You're not," said Bessie, suddenly contrite. "But, Dolly dear, I don't want everyone here to know all about us, and the things that are happening to us. You won't mind waiting a little for an explanation, will you?"

"Not when you ask that way," said Dolly, loyally. "But I don't like to have you act as if it were stupid of me not to be able to guess what it is. You wouldn't have known yourself, would you, if Jake Hoover hadn't told you when you two were whispering together?"

"I knew it before that. That's one reason I was able to make Jake tell me what he did, Dolly. I suppose you don't like my making up with him, either, do you?"

"Oh, no, I don't like it. But that doesn't make any difference. I daresay you've got some very good reason."

"I certainly have, Dolly, and you shall know it soon, too. Listen, there's our train whistling now! We'll start in a minute or two."

"Well, that's good. I hate mysteries. Do you know, Bessie, that if this train only makes one or two stops, we shall be at Plum Beach very soon after Miss Eleanor and the other girls get there!"

"I'm glad of it, Dolly. Tell me, there isn't any station at Plum Beach, is there?"

"No, we'll go to Bay City, and then go back on another train to a little station called Green Cove, and that's within a mile of the beach. It's on a branch railroad that runs along the coast from Bay City."

Then the train came along, and they climbed aboard, happy in having outwitted the enemies of Bessie and Zara. Dolly did not share Bessie's enthusiasm over the conversion of Jake Hoover, though.

"I don't trust him, Bessie," she said. "He may have really meant to turn around and be friends with us, but I don't think he can stick to a promise. I don't know that he means to break them, but he just seems to be helpless. You think he's afraid of Mr. Holmes and those men, don't you?"

"Yes, and he as good as admitted it, too, Dolly."

"Well, what I'm afraid of is that he will see them again, and that he'll do whatever the people he happens to be with tell him."

"I suppose we've got to take that much of a chance, Dolly. We really haven't much choice. My, how this train does go!"

"Why are you looking at your map and your time-table so carefully, Bessie?"

"I want to be sure to know when we're getting near Canton, Dolly. When we do, you must keep your eyes open. You'll see something there that may explain a whole lot of things to you, and make you understand how silly you were not to see through this plot."

Canton was a town of considerable size, and, though the train did not stop there, it slowed down, and ran through the streets and the station at greatly reduced speed. And as the car in which they were sitting went through the station Bessie clutched Dolly's arm, and spoke in her ear.

"Look!" she said. "There on the platform! Did you ever see those men before!"

Dolly gave a startled cry as her eyes followed Bessie's pointing finger.

"Mr. Holmes!" she exclaimed. "And that's that little lawyer, Mr. Brack. And the old man with the whiskers—"

"Is Farmer Weeks, of course! Do you see the fourth man standing with them? See how he pushes his coat back! He's a constable and he's so proud of it he wants everyone to see his badge!"

"Bessie! Do you mean they were waiting here for you?"

"For me and Zara, Dolly! If I had been on a train that stopped here—but I wasn't! And I guess Miss Eleanor must have got my telegram in time to hide Zara so that they didn't find her on the other train, too, or else we'd see something of her."

Dolly laughed happily. Then she did a reckless thing, showing herself at the window, and shaking her fist defiantly as the car, with rapidly gathering speed, passed the disconsolate group on the station platform. Holmes was the first to see her, and his face darkened with a swift scowl. Then he caught sight of Bessie, and, seizing Brack's arm, pointed the two girls out to him, too. But there was nothing whatever to be done.

The train, after slowing down, was already beginning to move fast again, and there was no way in which it could be stopped, or in which the group of angry men on the platform could board it. They could only stand in powerless rage, and look after it. Bessie and Dolly, of course, could not hear the furious comments that Holmes was making as he turned angrily to old Weeks. But they could make a guess, and Dolly turned an elfin face, full of mischievous delight, to Bessie.

"That's one time they got fooled," she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry they found out we were on this train, though," said Bessie, gravely, "It means that we'll have trouble with them after we get to Plum Beach, I'm afraid."

"Who cares?" said Dolly. "If they can't do any better there than they've done so far on this trip, we needn't worry much, I guess."

"Well, do you see what they were up to, now, Dolly?"

Dolly wrinkled her brows.

"I guess so," she said. "They meant to come aboard the train at Canton and try to get hold of you and Zara. But I don't see why—"

"Why they should pick out Canton rather than any other station where the trains stop along the line?"

"That's just it, Bessie. Why should they?"

"That's the whole point, Dolly. Look at this map. Do you see the state boundaries? For just a little way this line is in the state Canton is in—and Canton is in the same state as Hedgeville!"

"Oh!" gasped Dolly. "You were right, Bessie, I was stupid! I might have thought of that! That's why they had Jake there, and what his telegram was. But how clever of you to think of it! How did you ever guess it?"

"I just happened to think that if we did go into that state, it would be easy for them to get hold of Zara and me, if they only knew about it beforehand. Because, you see, in that state Farmer Weeks is legal guardian for both of us, and he could make us come with him if he caught us there."

"Well, I think it was mighty clever of you. Of course, when you had the idea, it was easy to see it, once you had the map so that you could make sure. But I never would have thought of it, so I couldn't have looked it up to make sure, because I wouldn't have thought there was anything to look up."

"What I'm wondering," said Bessie, "is what Miss Eleanor did to keep them from getting Zara. If you ask me, that's the really clever thing that's been done to-day. I was dreadfully frightened when I decided that was what they were up to."

"Well, your telegram helped," said Dolly. "If it hadn't been for that, they'd have been taken completely by surprise. Just imagine how they would have felt, if they'd looked up when their train stopped at Canton, and had seen Farmer Weeks coming down the aisle."

"It would have been dreadful, wouldn't it, Bessie? Do you know, Miss Eleanor wasn't a bit anxious to have us stay behind? She was afraid something would happen, I believe. But it's certainly a good thing that you thought of doing it, and had your way."

"I was afraid they'd try to play some sort of a trick, Dolly. That's why I wanted to wait. I couldn't tell what it would be, but I knew that if Jake was there it wouldn't do any harm to watch him and see what he did. I didn't expect to get him on our side, though. Before I talked to him, of course, I was really only guessing, but he told me all he knew about the plan. They hadn't told him everything, but with what I had guessed it was enough."

"No one trusts him, you see, Bessie. It's just as I said."

"Well, do you know, I shouldn't wonder if that was one reason for his being so untrustworthy, Dolly. Maybe if he finds that we are going to trust him, it will change him, and make him act very differently."

"I certainly hope so, Bessie, but I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid that they will find out what we've done, and try to use him to trick us, now that we think he's on our side."

"We'll have to look out for that, Dolly, of course. But I don't believe he's as black as he's painted. He must have some good qualities. Perhaps they'll begin to come out now."

At Bay City, where they arrived comparatively early in the afternoon, they had a surprise, for Miss Eleanor and all the girls were at the station to meet them, including Zara, who looked nervous and frightened.

"Oh, I'm so glad you've come here safely, Bessie," said Eleanor, flinging her arms about Bessie's neck. "Your train came right through, didn't it?"

"Yes, and we saw Mr. Holmes and the rest of them on the platform at Canton," said Bessie, laughing. "Did they get aboard your train?"

"Did they?" cried Eleanor. "They most certainly did, and when they couldn't find either you or Zara, they were so angry that I was afraid they were going to burst! I don't believe I ever saw men so dreadfully disappointed in my life."

"How did you manage to hide Zara?"

"That was awfully funny, Bessie. I found some friends of mine were on the train, travelling in a private car. As soon as I got your telegram, I went back to see them. They had a boy with them, who is just about Zara's size. So Zara dressed up in a suit of his clothes, and she was sitting in their car, with him, when they came aboard to look for her."

"Did they look in that car?"

"Yes. They had a warrant, or something, so they had a right to go everywhere on the train—and they did!"

"I should think the people who didn't have anything to do with us must have been furious."

"Oh, they were, but it didn't do them any good. They searched through the whole train, but Zara looked so different in boy's clothes that they never even seemed to suspect her at all. She kept perfectly still, you see, and after they had held us up for nearly an hour, we came on."

"Oh, how mad they must have been!"

"You ought to have seen them! It made us very late getting here, of course, and we missed the train we were to take to Green Cove. But I think we would have waited here, anyhow, until you came. I was very anxious about you, Bessie. What a clever trick that was! If it hadn't been for you, we would have been caught without a chance to do anything at all."

"Bessie's made friends with Jake Hoover, too," said Dolly, disgustedly. "Tell Miss Eleanor about that, Bessie."

"You did exactly the right thing," said Eleanor, when she had heard the story, much to Dolly's disgust. "I agree with Dolly that we will have to look out for him, just the same, but there is a chance that he may do what he promised. Anyhow, there's a lot to gain and very little to lose."



CHAPTER XII

PLUM BEACH

On the way to Plum Beach, on the little branch line that carried the girls from Bay City to Green Cove, Eleanor was very thoughtful, and Bessie and Dolly were kept busy in telling the other girls of their experiences. They wanted to hear from Zara, too, just how she had escaped.

"I don't see how you kept your face straight," said Dolly. "I know I would have burst right out laughing, Zara."

"You wouldn't think so if you knew Farmer Weeks," said Zara, making a wry face. "I can tell you I didn't want to laugh, Dolly. Why, he was within a few feet of me, and looking straight at me! I was sure he'd guess that it was I."

"He always looks at everyone that way—just as if they owed him money," said Bessie. "Nasty old man! I don't blame you for being nervous, Zara."

"Oh, neither do I," said Dolly. "But it was funny to think of his being so near you and having no idea of it. That's what would have made me laugh."

"It seems funny enough, now," admitted Zara, with a smile. "But, you see, I was perfectly certain that he did have a very good idea of where I was. I was expecting him to take hold of me any moment, and tell the constable to take me off the train."

"I wonder how long this sort of thing is going to keep up," said Margery Burton, angrily. "Until you two girls are twenty-one?"

"I hope not," laughed Bessie, and then she went on, more seriously, "I really do think that if Jake Hoover sticks to what he said, and takes our side, Mr. Jamieson is likely to find out something that will give him a chance to settle matters. You see, we've been fighting in the dark so far."

"I don't see that we've been fighting at all, yet," said Margery. "They keep on trying to do something, and we manage to keep them from doing it. That's not my idea of a fight. I wish we could do some of the hitting ourselves."

"So do I, Margery. And that's just what I think we may be able to do now, if we have Jake on our side. He must know something about what they've been doing. They couldn't keep him from finding out, it seems to me."

"But will he tell? That seems to be the question."

"Yes, that's it, exactly. Well, if he does, then we'll know why they're doing all this. You see, Mr. Jamieson can't figure on what they're going to do next, or how to beat them at their own game, simply because he doesn't know what their game is. They know just what they want to do, while we haven't any idea, except that they're anxious to have Zara and myself back where Farmer Weeks can do as he likes with us."

"Well, it would be fine to be able to beat them, Bessie, but right now I'm more worried about what they will try to do next. This is a pretty lonely place we're going to, and they're so bold that there's no telling what they may try next."

"That's so—and they know we're coming here, too. Jake told them that."

"They would probably have found it out anyhow," said Dolly. "And there's one thing—he didn't try to warn them that you knew about what they meant to do at Canton, Bessie."

"No, he didn't. And he could have done it very easily, too. Oh, I think we can count on Jake now, all right. He's pretty badly frightened, and he's worried about himself. He'll stick to the side that seems the most likely to help him. All I hope is that he will go to see Mr. Jamieson."

"Do you think he will?"

"Why not? Even if they get hold of him again, I think there will be time enough for him to see Mr. Jamieson first. And I've got an idea that Mr. Jamieson will be able to scare him pretty badly."

"All out for Green Cove," called the conductor just then, appearing in the doorway, and there was a rush for the end of the car.

"Well, here we are," said Eleanor. "This isn't much of a city, is it?"

It was not. Two or three bungalows and seashore cottages were in sight, but most of the traffic for the Green Cove station came from scattered settlements along the coast. It was a region where people liked to live alone, and they were willing to be some distance from the railroad to secure the isolation that appealed to them. A little pier poked its nose out into the waters of the cove, and beside this pier was a gasoline launch, battered and worn, but amply able, as was soon proved, to carry all the girls and their belongings at a single load.

"Thought you wasn't coming," said the old sailor who owned the launch, as he helped them to get settled aboard.

"We missed the first connecting train and had to wait, Mr. Salters," said Eleanor. "I hope you didn't sell the fish and clams you promised us to someone else?"

"No, indeed," said old Salters. "They're waitin' for you at the camp, ma'am, and I fixed up the place, too, all shipshape. The tents is all ready, though why anyone should sleep in such contraptions when they can have a comfortable house is more'n I can guess."

"Each to his taste, you know," laughed Eleanor. "I suppose we'll be able to get you to take us out in the launch sometimes while we're here?"

"Right, ma'am! As often as you like," he answered. "My old boat here ain't fashionable enough for some of the folk, but she's seaworthy, and she won't get stuck a mile an' a half from nowhere, the way Harry Semmes and that new fangled boat of his done the other day when he had a load of young ladies aboard."

He chuckled at the recollection. But while he had been talking he had not been idle, and the Sally S., as his launch was called, had been making slow but steady progress until she was outside the cove and headed north. Soon, too, he ran her inside the protecting spot of land of which Dolly had spoken to Bessie, and they were in such smooth water that, even had any of them had any tendency toward seasickness, there would have been no excuse for it.

In half an hour he stopped the engine, and cast his anchor overboard. He wore no shoes and stockings, and now, rolling up his trousers, he jumped overboard.

"Hand me the dunnage first," he said. "I'll get that ashore, and then I'll take the rest of you, one at a time."

"Indeed you won't," laughed Eleanor. "We're not afraid of getting our feet wet. Come on, girls, it's only two feet deep! Roll up your skirts and take off your shoes and stockings, and we'll wade ashore."

She set the example, and in a very short time they were all safely ashore, with much laughter at the splashing that was involved.

"Mr. Salters could run the Sally S. ashore, but it would be a lot of trouble to get her afloat again, and this is the way we always do here. It's lots of fun really," Eleanor explained.

Soon they were all ashore, and inspecting the camp which had been laid out in preparation for them.

"Real army tents, with regular floors and cots, these are," said Eleanor. "Sleeping on the ground wouldn't be very wise here. And there's no use taking chances. I'm responsible to the mothers and fathers of all you girls, after all, and I'm bound to see that you go home better than when you started, instead of worse."

"I think they're fine," said Margery. "Oh, I do love the seashore! How long shall we stay, Miss Eleanor!"

"I don't know," said the Guardian, a shade of doubt darkening her eyes. "You know, Margery"—she spoke in a low tone—"that seems to depend partly on things we can't really control. There seems to me to be something really quite desperate about the way Mr. Holmes and his friends are going for Bessie and Zara.

"Maybe they will make trouble for us here. It is rather isolated, you know, and I can't help remembering that we're on the coast, and that a few miles away the coast is that of Bessie's state—the state she mustn't be in."

"That's so," said Margery, gravely. "You mean that if they managed to get hold of Bessie or Zara, and took them out to sea and then landed them in that state they'd be able to hold them there?"

"It worries me, Margery. The trouble is, you see, that once they're in that state, it doesn't matter how they were taken there, but they can be held. If Zara's father gets free, why, he would be able to get her back, I suppose. Mr. Jamieson says so. But there's no one with a better right to Bessie, so far as we know. I'm really more worried about her than about Zara."

"We'll all be careful," promised Margery, with fire in her eye. "And I guess they'll have to be pretty smart to find any way of getting her away from us. I'll talk to the girls, and I'll try to be watching myself all the time."

"I'm hungry," announced Dolly. "Just as hungry as a bear! Can't we have supper pretty soon, Miss Eleanor!"

"Supper?" scoffed Miss Eleanor. "Why, we haven't had our dinner yet! But we'll have that just as soon as it's cooked. I've just been waiting for someone to say they were hungry. Dolly, you're elected cook. Since you're the hungry one, you can cook the dinner."

"I certainly will! I'll get it all the sooner that way. May I pick out who's to help me, Miss Eleanor?"

"That's the rule. You certainly can."

"Then I pick out all the girls," announced Dolly. "Every one of you—and no shirking, mind!"

She laughed merrily, and in a moment she had set every girl to some task. Even Margery obeyed her orders cheerfully, for the rule was there, and, even though Dolly had twisted it a bit, it was recognized as a good joke. Moreover, everyone was hungry and wanted the meal to be ready as soon as possible.

"There's good water at the top of that path," said Eleanor, pointing to a path that led up a bluff that backed against the tents. "I think maybe we'll build a wooden pipe-line to bring the water right down here, but for to-day we'll have to carry it from the spring there."

"Is there driftwood here for a camp fire, do you suppose, the way there was last year, Miss Eleanor?" asked one of the other girls. "I'll never forget the lovely fires we had then!"

"There's lots of it, I'm afraid," said Eleanor, gravely.

"Why are you 'afraid'?" asked Bessie, wonderingly.

"Because all the driftwood, or most of it, comes from wrecked ships, Bessie. This beach looks calm and peaceful now, but in the winter, when the great northeast storms blow, this is a terrible coast, and lots and lots of ships are wrecked. Men are drowned very often, too."

"Oh, I never thought of that!"

"Still, some of the wood is just lost from lumber schooners that are loaded too heavily," said Eleanor. "And it certainly does make a beautiful fire, all red and green and blue, and oh, all sorts of colors and shades you never even dreamed of! We'll have a ceremonial camp fire while we're here, and it is certainly true that there is no fire half so beautiful as that we get when we use the wood that the sea casts up."

"Don't they often find lots of other things beside wood along the coast after a great storm, Miss Eleanor!"

"Yes, indeed! There are people who make their living that way. Wreckers, they call them, you know. Of course, it isn't as common to find really valuable things now as it was in the old days."

"Why not? I thought more things were carried at sea than ever," said Dolly.

"There aren't so many wrecks, Dolly, for one thing. And then, in the old days, before steam, and the great big ships they have now, even the most valuable cargoes were carried in wooden ships that were at the mercy of these great storms."

"Oh, and now they send those things in the big ships that are safer, I suppose?"

"Yes. You very seldom hear of an Atlantic liner being wrecked, you know. It does happen once in a great while, of course, but they are much more likely to reach the port they sail for than the old wooden ships. In the old days many and many a ship sailed that was never heard of, but you could count the ships that have done that in the last few years on the fingers of one hand."

"But there was a frightful wreck not so very long ago, wasn't there? The Titanic?"

"Yes. That was the most terrible disaster since men have gone to sea at all. You see, she was so much bigger, and could carry so many more people than the old ships, that, when she did go down, it was naturally much worse. But the wreckers never made any profit out of her. She went down in the middle of the ocean, and no one will ever see her again."

"Couldn't divers go down after her?"

"No. She was too deep for that. Divers can only go down a certain distance, because, below that, the pressure is too great, and they wouldn't live."

"Stop talking and attend to your dinner, Dolly," said Margery, suddenly. "You pretended you were hungry, and now you're so busy talking that you're forgetting about the rest of us. We're hungry, too. Just remember that!"

"I can talk and work at the same time," said Dolly. "Is everything ready? Because, if it is, so is dinner. Come on, girls! The clams first. I've cooked it—I'm not going to put it on the table, too."

"No, we ought to be glad to get any work out of her at all," laughed Margery, as she carried the steaming, savory clams to the table. "I suppose every time we want her to do some work the rest of the time we're here, she'll tell us about this dinner."

"I won't have to," boasted Dolly. "You'll all remember it. All I'm afraid of is that you won't be satisfied with the way anyone else cooks after this. I've let myself out this time!"

It was a good dinner—a better dinner than anyone had thought Dolly could cook. But, despite her jesting ways, Dolly was a close observer, and she had not watched Margery, a real genius in the art of cooking, in vain. Everyone enjoyed it, and, when they had eaten all they could, Dolly lay back in the sand with Bessie.

"Well, wasn't I right? Don't you love this place?" she asked.

"I certainly think I do," said Bessie. "It's so peaceful and quiet. I didn't believe any place could be as calm as the mountains, but I really think this is."

"I love to hear the surf outside, too," said Dolly. "It's as if it were singing a lullaby. I think the surf, and the sighing of the wind in the trees is the best music there is."

"Those noises were the real beginning of music, Dolly," said Eleanor. "Did you know that? The very first music that was ever written was an attempt to imitate those songs of nature."

After the dishes were washed and put away, everyone sat on the beach, watching the sky darken. First one star and then another came out, and the scene was one of idyllic beauty. And then, as if to complete it, a yacht appeared, small, but beautiful and graceful, steaming toward them. Its sides were lighted, and from its deck came the music of a violin, beautifully played.

"Oh, how lovely that is!" said Eleanor. "Why, look! I do believe it is going to anchor!"

And, sure enough, the noise of the anchor chains came over the water.



CHAPTER XIII

THE MYSTERIOUS YACHT

But, beautiful as the yacht undoubtedly was, the sight of it and the sound of the slipping anchor chains brought a look of perplexity and even of distress to Eleanor's eyes.

"That's very curious," she said, thoughtfully. "There are no cottages or bungalows near here. Those people can't be coming here just for a visit, or they would take another anchorage. And it's a strange thing for them to choose this cove if they are just cruising along the coast."

"There weren't any yachts here last year when we were camping," said Margery. "But it is a lovely spot, and it's public land along here, isn't it?"

"No, not exactly. It won't be used for a long time, I expect, but it has an owner. An old gentleman in Bay City owns all the shore front along here for half a mile, and he has been holding on to it with the idea that it would get more valuable as time went on. Probably it will, too."

"Well, he lets people come here to camp, doesn't he?"

"Oh, yes. He's glad to have people here, I think, because he thinks that if they see how lovely it is, they will want to buy the land. I suppose perhaps these people on the yacht have permission from him to come here, just as we have. But I do wish they had waited until we had gone, or else that they had come and gone before we got here at all."

"Perhaps they will just stay for the night," said Margery. "I should think that a small boat like that would be very likely to put in overnight, and do its sailing in the daytime. Probably the people on board of her aren't in a hurry, and like to take things easily."

"Well, we won't find out anything about her to-night, I imagine," said Eleanor. "In the morning we'll probably learn what their plans are, and then it will be time to make any changes that are necessary in our own arrangements."

"Do you mean you wouldn't stay here if they did, Miss Eleanor?"

"I won't say that, Margery. We don't know who they are yet. They may be very nice people—there's no way of telling to-night. But if they turn out to be undesirable, we can move quite easily, I think. There are plenty of other beaches nearby where we'll be just as comfortable as we are here."

"Oh, but I don't believe any of them are as beautiful as this one, Miss Eleanor."

"Neither do I, Margery. Still, we can't always pick and choose the things we do, or always do what pleases us best."

On the yacht everything seemed to be quiet. When the anchor had gone down, the violin playing ceased, and, though the girls strained their ears to listen, there was no sound of conversation, such as might reasonably have been expected to come across the quiet water. Still there was nothing strange about that. It might well be that everyone on board was below, eating supper, and in that case voices would probably not come to them.

"I'd like to own that yacht," said Dolly, gazing at her enviously. "What a lot of fun you could have with her, Bessie! Think of all the places one could see. And you wouldn't have to leave a place until you got ready. Steamers leave port just as railroad trains pull out of a station, and you may have to go away when you haven't half finished seeing all the things you want to look at."

"Maybe they'll send a boat ashore soon," said Margery, hopefully. "I certainly would like to see the sort of people who are on board."

"So would I," said Eleanor, but with a different and a more anxious meaning in her tone.

"I wish that man with the violin would start playing again," said Dolly. "I love to hear him, and it seems to me it's especially beautiful when the sound comes to you over the water that way."