"He looks like a generous chap," murmured Lottie. She was again polishing her nails. Possibly she thought she might be introduced to the stranger, later on.

There was the sound of a louder exhaust from the boat astern. The young man evidently was going to try his best to win.

But Cora had no intention of letting him do so. She had shrewdly estimated the ability of his boat, as well as she could, though of course it was difficult, in the case of a craft she had never before seen.

"Sit on the other side; will you, Lottie dear?" asked Cora, as, grasping the steering wheel with firmer fingers she looked at the course ahead of her.

"Oh, I'm so comfortable here," objected Lottie.

"I know, but the boat isn't trimmed properly, and she can't do her best unless she is."

"Like us girls," remarked Belle. "We, too, must be properly trimmed to do our best."

"Trimmed!" exclaimed Lottie. "I don't see any frills on the Chelton."

"You may later, if we win the race," said Bess. "But what Cora means is that the boat isn't properly balanced. There is too much weight on the starboard side."

"Oh, then I'm on the starboard side," said Lottie.

"Yes, or on the right, according to the new navy rules," agreed Cora. "But, really, someone must shift."

"But if I go over there I'm afraid the spray will get on my dress," objected Lottie. "And it spots terribly, especially with salt water."

"I'll change over," said Marita. "I don't mind if my dress does get wet."

"You're a dear," sighed Lottie, as she settled back among the cushions.

"And you're a bit selfish," thought Cora.

The Chelton, now in better trim, skimmed over the bay. Behind her came the Pickerel. And, as Cora looked back she noted that the young man's craft was slowly overtaking her.

"He has more speed than I thought he had," she mused.

Foot by foot the young man urged his boat onward. Clearly he was not of that false chivalrous type that permits a lady to win whether she has the ability or not. To a really athletic girl, pitted against a man in an equal contest, nothing is more humiliating than to realize that her opponent is not putting forth all his powers. There are some men who will never try too hard to win from a woman. This stranger was evidently not of that type, and Cora valued him accordingly.

"Can you get up any more speed?" asked Belle, anxiously.

"I've got a bit left," said Cora, as she opened the throttle a little wider. "And I think I'll need it," she added.

"He certainly is coming on," added Belle in a low voice. "Are we getting too near the rocks, Cora?"

"No, it's safe so far. But I think I'll go out a bit. I want to win this race."



CHAPTER XVIII

MORE SUSPICIONS

Cora Kimball well knew the capabilities of the Chelton. She had steered other motor craft in many races, and was aware, almost to a revolution, just how much speed was available in a boat of this kind. And while she did not know what the rival boat could do, she was too expert at water sports to use up her last reserve of speed.

So, even while she watched the other boat creep up on her, she did not open the throttle to its fullest extent, nor did she advance the timer, which controlled the spark, to the limit.

"I'm going to be in shape to spurt if I have to," reasoned Cora.

Foot by foot the other boat crept on.

"He's going to win!" exclaimed Bess, in disappointed tones.

"Don't be so sure," laughed Cora. "Remember, we have been in races before, and in many a seeming hopeless one we have come out ahead."

"You girls are just—wonderful!" breathed Marita, as she crouched on the seat she had taken.

"You don't know us yet," laughed Bess. "Wait until you see some of the things Cora can do."

"Don't believe her!" exclaimed Cora, turning for an instant to smile at the girl who always seemed to be effacing herself for others. Then as she saw the spray coming up against the bows, and dashing over Marita, she added:

"Oh, you poor child! Why didn't you say you were getting wet?"

"Oh, I don't mind," was the brave answer.

"But you must," insisted Cora. "Here, put this on," and from a forward locker she pulled an oilskin coat, flinging it back to Marita, as at that moment the boat yawed when a big wave hit the bows, necessitating a firm hand on the wheel.

"Oh, it's getting rough!" exclaimed Lottie, apprehensively.

"Put away your nail-buffer and hang on," advised Bess. "It may be rougher before it's calmer."

"I—I wish I hadn't come," mourned Lottie.

"You aren't going to be ill, I hope," said Cora, quickly.

"No, but my dress may be all spotted——"

"Here, take this," offered Marita.

"No, indeed, you keep that," said Cora, quickly. "There are more in the lockers. Belle, will you get them out? It is a bit rough out here."

They had gotten beyond the protection of the arm of land that enclosed the bay, and with a strong tide running there were more waves than there had been at first.

But the girls did not mind, save perhaps Lottie, and her chief anxiety was for her dress. An oilskin coat, however, averted this danger, and she settled back in her place.

Cora looked back at the oncoming boat of the young man. It was within ten feet of her now, and as she opened the throttle of the Chelton a trifle more, she tried to get a glimpse of the controlling mechanism of her rival's craft.

She stood up to do this, and, as she did so there came a slapping wave against the bow of her boat. Cora staggered at the wheel, and Lottie screamed.

"Be quiet!" commanded Cora. "It's all right."

"But we roll so!"

"There is a bit of a sea on," admitted Cora, calmly. "It will be over in a few minutes, though. I'll have to tell him we're close to the danger point, and will have to slow down."

Determining to end the race in good style, Cora opened up the throttle full, and advanced the spark to the limit. The Chelton responded with a sudden burst of speed that carried her some distance ahead of the rival craft.

But the young man was evidently not going to take his defeat easily. The louder exhaust from his engine told that he, too, had put on more power.

But it was not enough, for as Cora raised her hand, in automobile-signal fashion, to warn her follower of an impending stop, the end of the impromptu race course was reached.

The girls had won.

"What is it?" called the young man as he stood up at his wheel.

"The rocks," answered Cora. "We can't race any more."

"We don't need to," he replied. "You won. I congratulate you!"

His tone was sincere, his manner courteous, but, as Cora looked into his boat, when it rushed up alongside her slowed-down craft, she noted that his throttle was still partly closed.

Instantly a suspicion came to her.

"He did not try to win!" was the suggestion that flashed to her mind. "He didn't try!"

For a moment her brain was in a whirl, and she had an idea that she ought to tell her chums what she had in mind. Then she decided to be cautious—to wait and watch a little longer. She wanted to find out his reason.

Who was this strange young man who seemed so friendly? What did he want in Bayhead? Why had he proposed a race? And then, after proposing it, why had he not won it when, clearly, he might have done so?

These were the questions that Cora asked herself as she slowed down her motor.

She had used up her limit of power in an honest endeavor to win, but the young man had not. He had held back purposely.

Why had he done it?



CHAPTER XIX

ODD TALK

"Sorry I couldn't beat you!" called the young man, waving his hand to the girls in Cora's boat. "You had more speed than I thought."

"Are you sure it was a fair race?" asked Cora, looking at him sharply. Her tone was peculiar.

"A fair race? What do you mean?" he asked, wonderingly. "Do you think I should have given myself more of a handicap?"

"Oh, no indeed!" exclaimed Cora, blushing that he should have mistaken her meaning. "You were generous—too generous, I think."

"Oh, that's all right. I'm not complaining. Of course it was a fair race. The faster boat won."

"I'm glad you think so," spoke Cora, meaningly, as she thought of the partly-closed throttle.

"Oh, yes indeed. I'm satisfied!" he exclaimed in generous tones. "But is the dangerous place you spoke of near here?"

"Right ahead," answered Cora, pointing to where the water was swirling in over some partly-hidden rocks. "Keep well out, and when you round the point you'll be at Bayhead."

"I'm greatly obliged to you," was his reply. But Cora did not look at him, nor return his bow. She swung her boat around and started back for the bungalow. The young man, with a curious glance at her, bent over his motor to make some adjustment. In another instant his craft shot ahead, seemingly at greater speed than it had made at any time during the race.

"I don't think much of him," observed Lottie, as she took a more comfortable position on the cushions.

"Why not?" Belle asked.

"Because he didn't even invite us to a tennis game, to say nothing of ice cream sodas, and there's a place in Bayhead where they have the most delicious chocolate!"

"Lottie!" gasped Marita. "Would you have gone with him?"

"Oh, well," with a shrug of her shoulders, "I don't know as I would, only—he might have asked us."

"No, he wouldn't," said Cora, and the manner in which she spoke caused her chums to look curiously at her.

"What makes you think so?" inquired Bess, merely for the sake of argument. She had stopped eating sweets—for the time being.

"Because he had a special object in view in asking us to race, and once that was accomplished he had no further use for us."

"Why, Cora Kimball!" cried Belle. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I think it. You didn't see all that I did."

"What did you see?" asked Bess, eagerly. "Did he have some sort of weapon? Or do you think he tried to get us over this way, hoping we would be wrecked on the rocks? Maybe he was a wrecker, Cora. I've heard that there are some of those terrible people in this section."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cora. "I only mean that his boat is a very powerful one. He did not 'let her out,' as Jack says, to the limit. He could easily have beaten us if he had wanted to."

"The idea!" cried Belle. "I don't like that kind of young man."

"Nor I," agreed Cora. "Not because he refused to win when he could, but because of what may be his object. That he had one I'm certain."

The girls turned to look at the other motor boat. It was rounding the point to Bayhead now, and seemed to be going at remarkable speed.

"How fast it goes!" exclaimed Lottie.

"Yes, much faster than the Chelton," responded Cora. "I told you he was holding back."

"What could have been his object?" asked Belle.

And that was a question all the girls asked themselves.

"Well, my nerves are better, anyhow," observed Bess, as she threw back the clustering hair from her face so that the wind might caress her cheeks, now flushed with excitement.

"That's good," spoke Cora.

"The antidote of the race and the excitement of the mystery, as to why the nice young man didn't want to win, are guaranteed to cure nerves or money refunded," said Lottie with a laugh. "Where are you going, Cora?"

"Back to the bungalow, of course. Mrs. Lewis may be anxious about us. It is nearly lunch time, anyhow."

"Then it is time for us to be anxious about ourselves," said Bess. "But I don't believe Mrs. Lewis will worry. You know she went away right after doing up the breakfast things. She said she was going to consult some friends, for those she saw last night could not help her, and she may not be back yet. So there's no need to hurry."

"Then I have an idea!" cried Cora. "We have our tea outfit with us, and some crackers. Why not go ashore and have a little picnic? It will complete the nerve treatment, perhaps," and she smiled at Bess.

"Good!" cried that girl. "It will be just the thing. Are you sure you have enough crackers, Cora? If not we could stop at the store on the point and get some."

"Oh, there are more than are good for you," was the answer.

Cora changed the course of the boat to send the craft over toward a pretty little wooded cove where the girls had often gone ashore for luncheon. They always carried in the boat an alcohol stove, with the necessary ingredients for tea.

Soon the Chelton was beached at a place where the small waves would do her no damage, and the girls were preparing luncheon.

They carried their own fresh water with them, not depending on finding a spring. Condensed milk, sugar and some tins of sweet crackers completed the meal, which was served on the grass for a table, paper napkins adding to the luxury of the occasion.

The picnic place was on a spit of land that jutted out into Crystal Bay. It could be approached from either side, and on one side there was some dense shrubbery that hid the water from sight.

It was when Cora and her chums were in the midst of their impromptu luncheon that they heard a boat grate on the beach that was hidden from view by the bushes.

"Someone is coming!" exclaimed Bess.

"Maybe it's the boys," remarked Belle.

"It's about time they followed us," suggested Lottie. "They don't give us a moment's peace."

"Do you want it?" asked Cora pointedly, for Lottie had been rather taken up with Jack, of late.

"Oh, I don't know," answered the girl. "Of course the boys are nice, and——"

"'Handsome is as handsome does,'" quoted Belle. "But that doesn't happen to be the boys."

"How do you know?" asked Bess.

"I just had a glimpse of them through the bushes. It's a strange motor boat—neither the Dixie nor the Lassie."

"Who is in her?" asked Cora.

"I can't make out. Listen!"

She raised her hand for silence, but there was no need. The girls ceased chatting at once, and silently followed Cora toward a hedge of underbrush, some little distance from where their luncheon was spread.

Then they heard some odd talk—at least it seemed odd until they understood the meaning of it.

"So you had a race with them?" one voice asked.

"Yes," replied another, who had just landed on the spit of the land. "I raced 'em, but I didn't beat 'em!"

"Couldn't you?"

"Couldn't I? Say, you know what the Pickerel can do when she's pushed to it. I held back the throttle."

Cora started. Her suspicions were unexpectedly confirmed.

"You can see them from over here," whispered Belle, pulling Cora's sleeve. Cora moved to where an opening in the bushes afforded a glimpse of the strangers.

She saw three men, and one of them she knew in an instant to be the young chap who had raced with her. His boat, too, was on the beach. It was from her that the men had come.

"Well, you know how fast the Chelton can go now, that's sure," spoke a voice.

"Yes," answered the young man, "I know. We needn't fear her if it comes to a chase. That's what I wanted to make sure of."

"Then all we have to do is to get the rest of the evidence, and the property is ours."

"Yes. We can turn the widow and the daughter out, all right, if we get the necessary papers. Then we can go ahead and build the dam across the brook."

"That's going to arouse a lot of opposition!" exclaimed the third member of the trio. "It will spoil the park."

"Well, we can't help it. We need the dam for power for our factory, and the people don't really need the park. We'll do it."

"You mean we'll make Shane do it!" exclaimed the young man who had raced with Cora.



CHAPTER XX

THE NIGHT PLOT

The girls looked at one another with startled glances. Cora bent forward eagerly in order to better hear what else was said. She had no compunctions as to eavesdropping, feeling that it was justified under the circumstances.

"They must mean Denny Shane, the old fisherman," whispered Bess.

"Hush!" cautioned Cora. Not only did she want to listen, but she was fearful lest the men on the other side of the hedge discover the presence of herself and her chums.

"Yes," resumed the speaker, "we must make old Shane do it. Once we get him in the proper frame of mind he'll testify just as we want him to. And we need some testimony to offset that of the widow and her girl. Otherwise we'll never get the property without a long delay."

"But how can we get Shane in the proper frame of mind to testify as we want him to?" asked another of the trio.

"Leave that to me," answered the one who had been in the fast motor boat. And Cora started as she noted the difference in his tone now. It was hard and cruel, while, in speaking to her, his accents had been those of a cultured gentleman, used to polite society. There was a metallic ring to his voice now that boded no good to Denny Shane.

"Yes, I guess we'll leave it to you, Bruce," said a voice, "though maybe Kelly could put it over him with a bit of blarney. You know Shane is Irish."

"Hush! No names, and not so loud!" cautioned the one who had been addressed as Bruce.

"Who'd be listening?" asked the other.

"You never can tell, Moran," was the retort.

"There you go!" exclaimed Bruce, fretfully, and the girls knew it must have been the one called Kelly who spoke that time.

There was a movement on the other side of the bush, and Cora, with a sudden motion, crouched down, signalling the others to do the same. It was only just in time, too. Fortunately for the girls they were in a sort of depression, and by crouching down they got out of sight, as one of the men came forward to peer through the underbrush. He saw nothing, as was evidenced by his report a moment later.

"There's not a soul here," he said. "There's been some picnic party around, but they've gone. It's as deserted as a graveyard."

"I'm glad we came away from our luncheon," whispered Cora, as the men resumed their talk. The wind sprang up, for a moment, and carried their tones away from the girls, so that only an indistinct murmur could be heard. Then there came clear talk again.

"Well, what's the program, then?" asked one whom the girls could tell was Moran. He was the same man they had seen before in the drug store.

"Get at Shane first of all," decided Kelly. "I'm willing to let Bruce do it, even if I am Irish."

"We'll all have to call on him," said Bruce, grimly, "but only one need actually do the business. We've got to deal with him in two ways. We've got to make him tell what we want brought out in court, and we've got to scare him so that he won't tell what we don't want known. And there are two ways of doing that."

"How?" asked Kelly.

"First we can offer him a reward. It will be worth it, even if we have to pay something to have him testify as we wish. The committee allowed us a certain sum for—well, let us say for witness fees. I'd rather pay him a hundred dollars and have it all over with. It's better to have a friend than an enemy, and you never can tell which way a thing like this is going to swing."

"Sposin' he won't take the cash?" asked Moran.

"Then I have another plan," and Bruce laughed bitterly. "I guess I don't need to say what it is."

"I'm wise," remarked Kelly. "Only—not too rough, you understand. He's a feeble old man."

"No rougher than's necessary," agreed Bruce.

Cora clasped her hands, and looked with fear in her eyes at her chums.

"We——we mustn't let them harm dear old Denny!" whispered Belle, shivering with nervousness.

"Hush!" cautioned Cora. "Don't talk—think!"

There was a movement on the other side of the screen of bushes, as indicating that the men were about to leave.

"Well, we'll let it go until to-night then," said Kelly.

"Until to-night," agreed Bruce. "And we know, in case of a slip-up, that there's no motor boat around here that can catch us when we make our get-away."

"There's the Dixie," suggested Moran.

"She's out of commission, I heard," responded Bruce. "And she won't be in shape for a day or so. The Chelton—well, I gave her a try-out a while ago, and I know what she can do."

"Oh, do you?" thought Cora. "Perhaps you don't."

"I have to laugh when I think how I took those girls in," went on Bruce. "I pretending that I was a stranger in these waters, and they kindly offering to pilot me. I guess they took me for some society swell of Bayhead."

"The mean thing!" hissed Lottie.

"Well, you can do the society act when you have to," said Kelly. "Only I guess we won't need that now. Shane doesn't move in society circles. How'd the game with the widow's daughter work out?"

"It didn't work at all. 'Confidence Kate' didn't gain her confidence. That's why I'm switching to Shane," answered Bruce. "But we'd better be going. There's lots to be done."

Cora and the motor girls listened in silence as the men crunched their way down the beach to their boat.

A little later they were chugging away in the speedy Pickerel.

"Isn't that just awful!" gasped Belle.

"It's a villainous plot!" exclaimed Bess. "Oh, I'm so nervous! I know I'm going to cry—or laugh—or do both."

"Bess Robinson, if you do anything foolish, or faint, you shan't do a thing toward helping to save Denny Shane!" exclaimed Cora, vigorously. "And I know you do want to help him."

"I certainly do. I'll behave. Oh, let me have a cup of tea."

"I think we'll all be better for it," assented Cora. "Come, girls, let's eat and then we'll get back. We, too, have a great deal to do."

"Do you mean that you girls are going to try to——to outwit those desperate men?" asked Marita, her eyes opened wide.

"We certainly do mean to!" insisted Cora. "Who else would do it?"

"Why, the police."

"There are only constables in a place like this. We can do better than they—especially with the boys to help."

"Oh, of course, the boys!" agreed Marita, and she seemed relieved.

"I must say it was most providential that we heard what they said," spoke Lottie, looking to see if there were any grass stains on her dress.

"Indeed it was," assented Cora.

It was rather an excited little luncheon, but the hot tea did them all good, and then, rapidly talking over what they had just gone through, and making all sorts of plans to outwit the schemers, the girls got into their boat again, and headed for the bungalow.

"Of course we must warn Denny at once," said Cora, and to this the girls agreed. "Then we'll tell the boys, and see what they suggest. But I almost know what Jack will say!"

"What?" asked Lottie. She was very much interested in Jack.

"Oh, he'll want to hide and capture the villains 'red-handed,' as he calls it."

"And I don't know but what that's as good a plan as any," remarked Belle. "I'd like to see them do it!"

Cora and her chums found Mrs. Lewis rather worried over their absence from the bungalow. She had returned, unsuccessful, from seeing her friends. Freda was recovering from the shock and fright of the day before.

"Where have you been?" Mrs. Lewis asked Cora.

"Oh, just off on a little picnic," was the answer, and Cora motioned to her chums to say nothing of what they had heard. They had agreed that it would be better for the widow not to know, at least for the present.

"Dinner will be ready soon," suggested Mrs. Lewis.

"We'll have it a little late to-day," replied Cora. "We have had some tea, and I want to go over and see Jack. They haven't been around here since we left; have they?"

"Oh, yes," answered Freda. "They were all here, wanting to know where you'd gone; but of course I couldn't say. Then they went out in your brother's boat, but they didn't get far before they had a breakdown."

"It's the Lassie's day off again," laughed Belle.

"Why didn't they take the Dixie?" asked Bess.

"Something is the matter with her, too," replied Freda.

Cora and her chums exchanged meaning glances. The talk of the men was confirmed. Evidently they had their own way of getting information.

"Well, we'll go over to Camp Couldn't," suggested Cora, after a pause. "They're probably there now."

They found the boys grouped about, in and out of the tent.

"Here they come!"

"Where have you been, girls?"

"We've been lonesome for you!"

"How bright the day seems now, to what it was before!"

Thus chanted Jack, Walter, Ed and Dray Ward, as they saw the advancing girls.

"Oh, stop that nonsense, Jack!" exclaimed Cora, as her brother waltzed forward to do a two-step on the moss with timid Marita.

"Why, what is wrong?"

"Lots!" she exclaimed, and her manner must have impressed Jack, for he grew grave at once.

"Has anything more happened since last night?" he asked.

"There has. We've discovered the meanest plot to harm Denny Shane. Listen."

"We list!" recited Walter, but Cora quieted him with a look.

Then began the telling of the overheard conversation.

"Well, what do you know about that?"

"The nerve of that chap wanting a race!"

"We'll race him, all right!"

"And so they're going to do up old Denny, eh?"

"Well, I guess we'll have a hand in that!"

These were the comments of Jack and his chums.

"Now don't do anything rash," begged Cora.

"We've got to do something," insisted Jack.

After some consultation it was agreed that the boys should go over and have a talk with the fisherman, and then, among themselves, they would decide on what was best to be done.

Meanwhile the girls would go back to the bungalow, there to await the report of the boys. Nothing would be said to Mrs. Lewis, for she had had alarm enough.

It was anxious waiting for the girls, and they were so nervous that they did not enjoy the dinner Mrs. Lewis had prepared, at which lack of appetite she wondered much. But she ascribed their distraction, and their rather strange comments, to the alarm of the day before.

Finally the Lassie, which had somehow been induced to "mote," was descried coming across the bay from the direction of the old fisherman's cabin.

"Come on, girls!" called Cora as she saw the boys. "We'll go down and meet them." She did not want Mrs. Lewis to hear the talk.

"Well, Jack?" asked Cora, as the boat came in.

"Not well—bad," he said. "Denny wasn't at home, and no one knew where he had gone. So we left a note for him, and we'll be on hand to-night."

"What about us?" asked Bess.

"You'd better stay here," said Jack. "No telling what sort of a row we may run into, and you're better at home."

"I think so, too," agreed Cora, but the look she gave her chums had more meaning in it than the mere words indicated. Bess and the others understood.

"And now," went on Jack, "we'll proceed to find out why the Dixie won't mote. We want her in shape to-night."

"That's right," assented Dray. "I think it's the carbureter. I'll get a man from the garage to look it over."

"We'll want a fast boat if the one those fellows have is as speedy as you girls say," remarked Walter.

"Couldn't we take the Chelton?" asked Ed.

"The Pickerel beat us to-day," said Cora. "Besides, it might be good to have her in reserve. Try and have the Dixie fixed up."

"We will!" promised her owner.

The remainder of the day seemed like a dream to the girls. Never had time passed so slowly. They were waiting for what the night might bring.

The boys made several other trips to the fisherman's cabin, going afoot through the woods, as the Lassie had again gone on a strike, and a man from the garage was working over the Dixie.

The fisherman's cabin could be reached in two ways, but the water route was preferred by the young people, even though it was longer.

The boys could not find Denny at home, however, and planned to be at his cabin just at dusk, and to remain there until something happened.

"So we'll be sure to be there when the men arrive," said Jack.

Finally twilight came, and with the falling of night the repairs to the Dixie were completed. She seemed to be running better than in some time.

"Well, here we go!" remarked Walter, as the boys took their places in the swift craft. "We'll let you girls know what happens—as soon as it happens."

"You'd better!" laughed Cora. "We'll be very anxious."

She and her chums had come down to the dock to see the boys leave on their trip to save Denny from an unknown danger.

Then came more anxious waiting.



CHAPTER XXI

THE BREAKDOWN

"Well, he hasn't come back yet."

"No. It's sort of queer, too. I wonder where he can be keeping himself, all day?"

"Maybe those fellows have got to him after all."

Jack Kimball and his chums, landing at the fisherman's dock from the Dixie, thus commented when they paid another visit to Denny's cabin, and found him still absent.

"No, I don't imagine anything has happened," said Jack. "You know he often goes off and stays a long time in his boat. He's got a crazy sort of motor in it, that runs about as often as the one does in the Lassie. He may be stuck somewhere."

"Or else waiting the turn of the tide," suggested Ed.

"That's right," chimed in Dray. "I've heard him say that certain fish won't bite when the tide's running out, and that you can catch others only when it's coming in. Maybe he is hanging around for that."

"Then he ought to be back soon," declared Jack, "for the tide turned a half-hour ago."

"If he's far out in the bay it will take him a long while to come in. His boat doesn't make very good time," observed Walter.

The boys walked around the cabin. It was closed and locked, and the warning note they had left for the fisherman was still pinned to the door.

"Which shows that those men haven't been here," said Jack. "That makes me fear that they may have gotten to him before us."

"Why so?" asked Ed.

"Well, it's evident that the men haven't been here since the girls gave us the alarm. If they had they'd have torn up that note. Then, too, you'd think, if they were going to try to make Denny do what they wanted in the way of giving testimony, they'd be getting at it. He goes to bed early, as everybody around here knows, and locks up. If those fellows wanted to get at him without breaking in they'd come early. All of which makes me think that they may already have had a serious interview with him."

"I hope not," observed Walter. "I'm more inclined to believe that he's out on the bay somewhere. If he is he's all right."

"Say, fellows, I've got an idea!" cried Jack.

"Hold fast to it—they're scarce," remarked Ed.

"No, but seriously. Suppose we cruise about a bit. We needn't go far from the shore, and we can have an eye on the cabin. In case Denny is out on the water we may pick him up. Then we could tell him what was on, and warn him. We could do it even better than on shore here, for there's no telling but what some of those fellows may be in hiding around here," and Jack cast a look about. It was dark, but a full moon was coming up to make a light that revealed most objects.

"Then if there is a possibility that someone may be in ambush here," said Walter, "we'd better keep a bit more mum. But I think Jack's plan is a good one. Let's cruise about a bit, but keep within sight of the cabin."

No one had any objections so, after making a casual search about the cabin, and not finding anyone in hiding, the boys again got aboard the Dixie and started to cruise on the bay, that was now sparkling in the moonlight.

Jack and his chums kept a careful watch for Denny Shane's boat. There were several motor craft out, for the night was one that invited trips on the water—calm and still, with a gentle breeze that had in it the tang of salt mingled with the sweet odors of Summer.

"I feel just like singing," remarked Ed, after a pause during which the Dixie cruised about, not too far from the cabin.

"Have some regard for our feelings," begged Jack. "Remember that we are under a great strain."

"And Ed would be, too, if he sang," said Walter. "At least I would feel constrained to remonstrate with him."

"Huh! Think no one can sing but yourself!" retorted Ed.

"Moonlight always did have a queer effect on him," remarked Jack.

Round about they cruised, and they were thinking of returning to make sure that Denny had not reached his cabin by some other route, unseen by them, when the motor of the Dixie gave a combined cough, groan and sneeze, and stopped short.

"There she goes!" exclaimed Ed.

"You mean there she doesn't go!" corrected Walter.

"Get the talcum powder," suggested Jack.

"I'm sure Dray didn't use the tooth brush on her before we came out," spoke Jack, accusingly.

The boys had a way of doing the most absurd things, from a mechanical standpoint, whenever their motors refused to mote. They would dust talcum powder on the cylinder tops, or tie a piece of baby-blue ribbon on the pet-cock when they had exhausted every other means of making a rebellious motor operate.

And the odd part of it was that, often, when they had done these seemingly silly things, the boat would start. So they were rather superstitious about it, and they did carry a tin of talcum powder with them, much to the amusement of the girls.

In turn the usual sources of trouble were looked for and eliminated one after the other.

No wires seemed to have broken, the current was good, the vibrator buzzed when the contact was made and there was plenty of gasoline in the tank.

"Put in a new spark plug," suggested Jack.

"New ones went in to-day," answered Dray. "They can't have sooted already. It isn't there."

"Give her a little more air," proposed Walter. "I think she's getting too rich a gasoline mixture."

"I'm not going to touch the carbureter!" declared the young owner of the Dixie. "It was trouble enough to get her fixed before. Hand me that talcum." Gravely he dusted some on the pump rod.

Then another attempt was made to start the motor, but it only sighed dismally, and refused to do its duty.

"I say!" cried Jack, looking up from where he had been examining the carbureter with an electrical pocket flash, "we're drifting out to sea!"

"So we are!" agreed Ed. "Say, can't you get her going?"

"Can't seem to," replied Drayton. "I'll sell this boat and get another as soon as I can. She's a nuisance!"

"Well, we sure are broken down," sighed Jack, "and how we are going to get back to the cabin is more than I can figure out."

"Let's whistle for help," suggested Walter.

"Look!" exclaimed Jack, pointing in the direction of shore. "There's a light in Denny's cabin!"

They all looked, and saw a flickering gleam of fire near the shack that had been deserted all day.

"Something's doing!" cried Ed. "And we're stuck out here!"



CHAPTER XXII

AT THE CABIN

"Girls," declared Cora Kimball, "I can't stand it any longer! I've got to do something—or have nervous prostration."

"And that's just the way I feel!" said Bess. "Waiting is the most nervous thing in the world."

"Have another chocolate," suggested Lottie, helping herself from the box on a table near her.

"How dare you suggest such a thing?" demanded Bess. "As if I wasn't trying to do all I could to reduce."

"Oh, well, I was thinking of your nerves," observed Lottie.

"But what is it you want to do, Cora, dear?" asked Marita.

"I want to go to Denny's cabin, and see what has happened," was the answer.

"What!" cried Belle, with an exclamation of surprise and alarm. "Tramp through the woods at this hour of night?"

"It isn't any such great, or late, hour of night," replied Cora, calmly, "and the woods are not dark. There's a lovely moon. But I don't propose to go through the woods. What is the Chelton for if we can't use her?"

"Cora Kimball, do you mean to say that you'd go out on the bay, and over to Denny's cabin, after dark, with the prospect that some desperate men are going to attack him?" asked Bess.

"The boys are going to be there," answered Cora, still refusing to become excited. "Besides, they may need our help. We could take a prisoner or two in our boat."

There was a chorus of screams.

"Cora Kimball—how dare you?" demanded Belle.

"Oh, I meant if he was tied hand and foot," went on the leader of the motor girls. "Villains are always tied hand and foot, you know. They can't move. They're gagged, too. I think I should insist on having our villain gagged. It might happen to be that young man who raced with us to-day, and he might get sarcastic if he could talk. Yes, I think he must be gagged."

"Oh, Cora, you're hopeless," sighed Lottie. "What would my mother say if she could see me now."

"She'd tell you to stop eating chocolates and come with me," returned Cora, firmly. "I'm going to the cabin."

"I—I'll go with you," volunteered Marita, and then she blushed at the attention she attracted.

"Well, if Marita isn't afraid to go, I'm not," announced Lottie, with spirit. "Come on, Cora."

"Oh!" gasped Bess.

"Oh, dear!" echoed Belle. "Do we have to stay here all alone?"

"Either that, or come with us," invited Cora. "I'm going over to the cabin in our boat."

There was a step at the door of the living room, and Mrs. Lewis looked in.

"Did I hear you girls say you were going out?" she inquired.

"Just for a little trip on the water," replied Cora, signing to her chums to keep silent. "It is so lovely with the moon, and we won't go far."

It was not a great way to Denny's cabin.

"Well, don't be gone too long," cautioned the widow. "You must remember that I am, in a way, responsible for you girls."

"Oh, we'll be careful," Cora promised. "We'd take Freda with us, but perhaps she had better stay with you."

"Yes, I think so. Besides, she is so nervous after what nearly happened last night, that I'd rather she wouldn't go out. Oh, if only things were settled! If only we were sure we could get that property back, and not have to worry about it being taken away from us!"

"Have they been annoying you of late?" asked Cora, thinking perhaps there had been some developments of which she was unaware.

"No, nothing special, since that horrid woman. But it is a constant worry to me."

"It must be," returned Cora, sympathetically. "Well, we will hope for the best."

Cora did not say so—even to her chums, but she had great hopes that something might develop from the events of this night. If the unscrupulous men could only be caught in some wrong-doing a hold might be obtained over them that would enable them to be defeated in court. Thus their claim to the property—which claim Cora felt sure was a false one—might be disproved.

That there were papers in existence which would show the widow and her daughter to be the rightful owners Cora did not doubt. Freda's grandfather, from all accounts, was a careful business man, if eccentric in some ways. He would not have come into possession of property without having the papers to prove his claim. And he was not a man to put them in some safe deposit vault and leave no memorandum as to finding the key.

Perhaps they were concealed in some nook or cranny in the widow's home. Cora made up her mind to have a search made after this night was over.

Then, too, Denny might be able to come upon them. Eccentric in some ways, as Freda's grandfather had been, he might have hidden the papers in Denny's cabin.

That was a new thought. Perhaps the scheming men knew this, and that is why they wanted to attack the old fisherman.

"We simply must go to his cabin," decided Cora, "and find out what has happened. I can't wait any longer."

Wraps were quickly donned, and down to the dock went the girls. The Chelton was in running order, and soon they were out on the moonlit waters of the bay.

"There's a light in his cabin," said Cora, as they came out from behind a point, and had a view of the little cove where nestled Denny's cottage.

"I hope the boys are there," remarked Bess, "and that they have the villains all tied up and ready for delivery."

"Ugh!" exclaimed Belle. "If they have I wish they'd send them by parcel post instead of asking us to take charge of them."

"They'll be harmless," guaranteed Cora. "Besides, the Dixie can't hold more than the boys; our boat is larger."

"We could let the boys run this one, after the men are tied in her," suggested Lottie, "and we could come home in the Dixie."

"Never!" exclaimed Cora. "You can't rely on her. I'll stick to the Chelton."

But if the girls had only known that, at that moment, far out on Crystal Bay, was the ill-fated Dixie, drifting to sea, while the boys tooted hopelessly for aid on the compressed air whistles!

The Chelton made a quick and uneventful trip to the fisherman's cabin. From it a light peacefully glowed.

"There's no one here," announced Bess. "Not even the boys."

"Be careful," warned Cora. "It may be a trap. Let us go up softly."

"But what about those men?" asked Belle. "Maybe they have taken Denny away with them, and the boys, too."

"Don't be silly," advised Cora. "Let's go up and look in."

As they peered in the cabin window they saw Denny seated in an easy chair. He was alone, and across his knees was the red oar of which he seemed so fond.



CHAPTER XXIII

UNEXPECTED HELP

"Well, we certainly are up against it—good and proper!" exclaimed Jack. "And I'm glad the girls aren't along!"

"Why?" asked Walter, leaning back against the gunwale to rest after laboring over the refractory engine of the Dixie.

"Because they can't call me down for my slang. And believe muh—as the telephone girls say—I can use slang now and then—some!"

"It is aggravating; isn't it?" asked Dray.

"Aggravating, my dear chap, is hardly the word," drawled Ed. "It's humiliating!"

He brought that out in such a droll way that the others laughed.

For the engine of the motor boat still refused to be coaxed into going. They were being carried out toward the mouth of the bay on the outgoing tide, which was now running strongly. Soon they would be out to sea, and though the moon still shone brightly there was a haze in the sky that betokened a coming storm.

But it was not so much the fact of the stalled engine, nor that they were being carried out to sea, and were in some danger, that worried the boys.

"We're falling down on what we said we'd do," declared Jack. "We promised the girls that we'd save Denny from those fellows, and we can't do it. They may be at him now."

"We certainly saw a light at his cabin," ventured Ed.

"But we can't see it now," added Jack, straining his eyes for a glimpse of the spot where the fisherman's shack stood.

"Well, there's no use worrying over what can't be helped," observed Walter, philosophically. "We're here and not there. Denny will have to look out for himself—I guess he's able."

"That isn't the point," rejoined Jack. "There we took the case out of the girls' hands, so to speak. We said we were the big noise, and that we'd look after things. Then we go and get stuck miles from shore where we can't do a thing. They'll laugh at us when we do get back, if they don't do any worse."

"But we didn't know we were going to get stuck when we came out for a little run, after we found Denny wasn't home," said Dray.

"That's no excuse," returned Jack. "It's like a child breaking the looking glass and then saying he didn't mean to. Well, I know one thing Cora will say when we get back—if we ever do—and own up that we weren't on hand when the play came off."

"What will she say?" asked Dray. He was not well acquainted with the doings and sayings of the motor girls, as yet.

"She'll say that she and Bess and Belle and the rest of them could have done better themselves, if we'd left it to them. And I guess she'd be more than half right," sighed Jack.

"Well, there's no use crying over a bridge before you come to it," observed Dray. "Let's have another go at that engine."

They began their labors all over again. They even took out the spark plugs, though they had been new that afternoon.

Nothing could be found wrong there. The feed pipe from the gasoline tank was examined, but it seemed to provide a good flow. The timer was adjusted and readjusted. The coil was looked to. Everything, in short, that the boys could think of, or that previous trouble had taught them to look for, was tried, and all with no effect.

They even did more absurd things, such as the talcum powder act, while Jack spouted some Latin verses at the forward cylinder. But the motor refused to mote.

"And, all the while, we're going out to sea," remarked Walter.

"Out to sea to see what we can see," said Jack.

"Oh, hush-a-bye-baby on the jokes," exclaimed Dray, a bit petulantly. "If ever I buy a speed boat again you'll know it! A good old-fashioned make-and-break motor for mine after this—one you can depend on."

"Haven't you an oar or a paddle?" asked Ed.

"Not a thing that we could use to work against the tide," answered Dray, gloomily. "There's a boat hook, but that isn't any better than a straw. I left the oars out after the man got through fixing the motor to-day. He said I wouldn't need them."

"The regard that individual has for the truth is something scandalous!" said Walter, grimly. "I shall acquaint him with the fact on my return."

"When we do return," returned Jack, gloomily.

"Oh, we're bound to be picked up—sooner or later," declared Walter.

"Mostly later," went on Jack, more gloomily.

"Well, here goes for another try," said Dray.

"That's right. Maybe the machine has just been giving us a try-out," suggested Ed. "We certainly have said mean things about you, old Mote!" he went on sarcastically. "Kindly forgive us and go. 'See by moonlight 'tis 'most midnight, time boat and us were home hour-and-a-half ago,'" he said, quoting from the old nursery rhyme.

But the motor only coughed and sighed and wheezed like an old man with the asthma, and the boat still drifted.

They called, they blew on the compressed air whistle until all the reserve supply of oxygen was exhausted from the tank, and then they had to resort to their voices again.

"Well, there's one thing left," answered Jack, tragically.

"What is it?" begged Ed.

"We can swim for it. That's better than being carried out to sea. Let's swim before it is too late."

"That's what I say!" exclaimed Dray. "Let the Dixie go—she's no good!"

The others were considering Jack's startling proposal, when Ed looked up, and exclaimed:

"Hark! Don't you hear something?"

The others listened. Faintly from the direction of the sea came a sound—unmistakable.

"A boat!" cried Jack. "I'll not take off my coat yet."

"A motor boat, too," added Ed.

"And coming this way," went on Walter.

"Come on, fellows, give 'em a hail!" suggested Dray.

Up to now, with all their shouting and blowing of the whistle, they had neither seen nor heard of a craft. They had drifted too far out. If any had come within hearing distance the occupants had paid no heed to the calls for help. Now there was one approaching, that was evident.

"All together, now!" called Jack, and they united their voices in a shout.

"There are her lights!" called Dray.

"Yes, and she's heading right over here," agreed Ed.

A little later the red and green lights came nearer.

Then, as the craft surged up to the stalled Dixie, and came to a stop, the engine still running with the clutch thrown out, a voice asked:

"Do you fellows want a tow?"

"Do we?" came in a chorus. "We don't want anything any more."

"Fling us your rope," was the curt order.

Unexpected help had arrived. But it was too late.



CHAPTER XXIV

DENNY'S SOLILOQUY

"What shall we do?" asked Cora, in a whisper.

"It is rather a puzzle," admitted Bess.

The motor girls were standing outside Denny Shane's cabin, looking in on him as he sat at his ease, with the red oar over his knees.

"He doesn't seem to be in any danger," went on Cora.

"No, those men either haven't harmed him, or they haven't arrived yet," returned Belle.

"Oh, but suppose they should come while we are here?" suggested Marita, shrinking against Cora.

"Don't go to supposing such uncanny things," objected Cora, as she put her arm about the other. "Are you afraid?"

"I don't know," was the hesitating answer. "I suppose one ought to be afraid, coming at night to a cabin where some horrible men are expected. And yet, somehow, I don't seem to be," replied Marita. "I know I would have been a few months ago, but since I have met you girls, and seen the things you do, why it's queer, but really I—I rather like it!" and she laughed.

"See what your influence has done," whispered Cora.

They had all spoken in low tones, for Denny was sometimes sharp of hearing, and they did not want to arouse him.

The girls were really puzzled, not only at the peaceful surroundings at Denny's cabin, but at the absence of the boys. Of course they could not know that Jack and the others had been there and gone, not finding Denny at home. Nor did they know anything of the note left pinned to the door.

"Do you suppose it could all be over?" asked Lottie.

"All over? What do you mean?" asked Cora.

"I mean could the men have been here, and been captured by the boys and taken to jail?"

"Oh, it's possible, but not very probable," returned Cora. "They surely would have managed to get some word to us if anything like that had happened."

"But what are we going to do?" asked Bess. "We ought not to stay here."

"No, I suppose not," admitted Cora, slowly. "It might be a good thing, though, just to stop and speak to Denny. Then we'd know, soon enough, what had happened. Suppose we do that?"

The others agreed. They had stepped away from the window for a moment, but now Cora walked toward it again. Denny was still holding the oar, but he must have gotten up, for the window was now partly open, and it had not been so at first.

Denny was talking to himself. He was indulging in a soliloquy, apparently addressing himself to the oar.

"If you could only talk," he said, "if you could only talk, what a tale you could tell. Yes, indeed!" and he sighed. "A tale of the sea and the land—of calm and storms."

"He's very poetical; isn't he?" whispered Bess.

"Hush!" cautioned Cora. "Listen to what he says."

Denny was evidently in a talking mood, and was living the past over again.

"If only Grandfather Lewis were here, what tales he could tell, too," Denny went on. "And there's one tale I'd be glad to listen to. He could tell where the land papers were. If only I could find 'em everything would be all right, and the factory men—ha! we could laugh in our sleeves at 'em. Laugh in our sleeves! Ha! Ha! No, we could laugh in their faces, so we could; couldn't we?"

He held up the oar, speaking to it as one might to a favorite dog.

Denny swung it above his head, as though testing its weight as a club.

"'Twas so he swung it the night of the storm—the night he saved my life!" murmured Denny. "My, what a night that was! What a night!"

He seemed lost in recollection for a moment, and then resumed his self-communion.

"'Twas so he held it—held it out to me in the smother of foam and spray when I was goin' under. And what was it he said?

"'Grab holt!' says he. 'Grab holt and I'll pull you in. Don't be afraid, the oar is strong!' And so it is—a grand, strong oar. As strong as old Len Lewis himself. What a grand old man he was! A fine old man!

"But he's gone, and we all have to go. I'll have to go with the rest, I suppose. But before I do go I wish I could find them land papers. What in the world did Grandfather Lewis do with 'em anyhow?

"They must be around here. He ought to have kept 'em in the bank, or in a strong box; but he was always like that. Hidin' his things away in curious places. He even did it with his tobaccy. A strange man!

"But I'll wager the papers aren't far from the land. That would be his way—to keep the papers near the land. 'A place for everything and everything in its place,' he used to say. What more natural than that he'd have the papers near the land?

"I wonder, though, did he stick 'em anywhere around me cabin? He come over here often enough to sit and chat. Ah, many's the good old talk we used to have—a talk of the old days. Often I'd come in from me boat, and find him here. He might have brought the papers an' hid 'em here when I was out. I wonder if he did?"

Denny looked around his simple cabin. He laid the oar down gently, as a thing revered. He walked about the room, looking in various places.

"No, the papers wouldn't be here," he mused. "I'd have found them before this. And those fellows, who came and upset my place when I wasn't home—they'd have found 'em if they was here. I wonder what Grandfather Lewis did with them papers?"

It was a puzzle that others than Denny Shane would have given much to solve.

Cora and her chums looked at one another in the moonlight outside Denny's cabin. His talk had revealed something to them, but there was no clue to the missing papers which could prove the title of Mrs. Lewis to the valuable land.

"Well, there's one thing sure, Denny hasn't been attacked as yet," whispered Bess. "And the boys haven't been here to warn him, or he'd show some signs of it."

"I think you're right," agreed Cora. "What had we better do? Tell him ourselves?"

"That's what I say—let's warn him," suggested Belle.

The girls started for the cabin door, but paused midway as they heard the approach of a motor boat near the fisherman's little dock.

"Wait," suggested Cora. "That may be the boys now."



CHAPTER XXV

THE PLOTTERS ARRIVE

"What's the trouble?" asked one of the four men in the boat that had come to the rescue of Jack and his chums. "Engine broken, or are you out of gasoline?"

"We've got gas, but there may be water in it," replied Dray. "I watched the fellow when he filled the tank, though, and he used the chamois all right."

"You can't always go by that," said another of the accommodating strangers. "There's an awful sight of poor gasoline being palmed off nowadays. Have you got a long rope?"

"We sure have," answered Jack. "It's mighty good of you to stop and give us a tow."

"That's all right," laughed one of the men. "We never can tell when we might want a helping hand ourselves. Pass us the rope."

It was flung over. The two boats were now bobbing side by side, for they were well out in the bay, and the sea was quite choppy. The tide was running out, and help had come to the boys not any too soon.

The rope, passing from the bow of the Dixie, where it was made fast to a ring bolt in the deck, was caught on to a cleat in the stern of the other boat.

"You'll look after the steering; will you?" asked one of the men.

"Surely," answered Dray.

"Because there's nothing harder than towing a boat that yaws from side to side," the man went on.

"We'll keep a straight course," declared the owner of the speedy boat that had proved such a disappointment of late. "We know something about gasoline craft."

"Glad to hear it," remarked one of the occupants of the rescuing boat, in a grumbling sort of voice. "There's so many launched on the bay now, with a lot of chaps running them who don't know any more than to turn on the gasoline and switch on the spark."

"And girls, too," added another of the men. "Though I must say there are some girls here who——"

"Easy there!" called one of the rescuers sharply.

He might have been speaking to his companion, who was attending to the fastening of the towing rope, but to Jack it seemed as though there was an injunction to be careful of what was said.

Somehow or other, though why he could not tell, Jack's suspicions were aroused. He tried to get a good look at the faces of the men, but the moon was hidden behind some clouds just then, and it was out of the question. The light was too baffling.

"Well, I guess we're ready," announced the man who was making fast the towing rope. "Now where do you fellows want to go? We can't promise to take you home, as we have some business of our own to attend to."

Jack always said, afterward, that nothing could have been more providential than the way the moon shone out brightly just as he was about to reply.

He had it on the tip of his tongue to ask that, if possible, they be landed near Denny's cabin, when a ray of moonlight glinted on the name of the rescuing boat, painted on her stern. There Jack read the word:

Pickerel.

"Great Scott!" he almost ejaculated aloud. "The boat that raced with Cora! The same men who are after old Denny!"

Jack made up his mind in a flash. It would never do for the men to know that he and his friends were on their way to save Denny from the very fate the men had in store for him.

"Oh, if you can land us anywhere near Buler's Pavilion, it will answer," said Jack, naming a place not far from the entrance to the bay, and not far from where they were at that moment.

"Buler's Pavilion!" cried Ed. "Why that's——"

"It's probably closed, by this time, I know that!" answered Jack, quickly, giving Ed a sly kick. "But we can get somebody up, I guess."

Then, in a tense whisper he hissed into Ed's ear:

"These are the men after Denny. I know them by their boat. Don't let on who we are. We're going to Buler's."

"Sure, we can rouse somebody up if they are closed," answered Ed, quickly falling in with Jack's scheme. "That will do us, all right," he added to the men. "That is, if it won't be too much out of your way."

"Not at all," said one. "We'll be glad to leave you there. Maybe you can find somebody to fix your boat. All ready?"

"Let her go," said Jack. He wanted the Pickerel to get far enough ahead so that he could talk to his chums without the danger of being overheard.

The engine of the rescuing boat was set going more rapidly, and the clutch was thrown in. The craft forged ahead, and soon the Dixie was under way again. She was being brought back from the sea which had so nearly claimed her, and in a strange manner.

"Why did you want to say we'd like to be landed at Buler's?" asked Dray of Jack.

"Because I want to fool these fellows," and Jack quickly told how he had seen the name of the boat that had raced with his sister's. "If we do land there," he went on, "they won't know who we are. We can tell them to cut us off before we get to the dock, in case the place should happen to be open and lighted up. Then they can't see us."

"Good idea," said Dray. "You're a wise boy, Jack."

"I just saw that name in time," went on Cora's brother. "Otherwise it would have been all up with us."

"But what about Denny?" asked Ed. "How are we going to save him if we land at Buler's, and let these fellows go on?"

"I've thought of that," answered Jack. "We'll have to get another boat, if we can, and go to Denny's cabin in her. The Dixie is no good. Oh, excuse me!" he said quickly to Dray. "I didn't mean that—exactly."

"It's all right, old man, the Dixie is certainly no good to-night. Say all you please about her, you can't hurt my feelings."

"If only the Reliance is at Buler's we can get her and go to the cabin flying," went on Jack. "If not, we'll do the best we can. Maybe Denny can stand them off until we arrive."

"Say, what's the matter with up and telling these fellows we know who they are, and who we are," suggested Walter. "We can tell them we know what they're up to, and threaten them. Won't that stop them from bothering Denny—at least to-night?"

"Not a bit of it," returned Jack, quickly. "Do you know what they'd do as soon as they found out who we were?"

"What?" asked Ed.

"They'd know at once we were working against them, and they'd cut us adrift. Then we would be out of it. And I haven't any desire," added Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders, "to go out to sea again."

"We land at Buler's," said Walter, decidedly.

And a little later they landed at that resort, which had closed unusually early, for some reason.

"All right—cast off!" Jack had called as they neared the dock, and the Dixie, with trailing rope, ran up to it under her own momentum, while the other craft swung off into the darkness, the boys calling their thanks to the men.

"And if they only knew who it was they had given a tow to!" chuckled Walter.

"They'll know, soon enough," replied Jack. "We've got to look up a boat to take us to Denny Shane's. We've simply got to get there."

And while the boys were thus looking for a boat to take the place of the disabled Dixie, the plotters, in their swift Pickerel, were hastening toward the little cove where the fisherman's cabin stood.

The men in the boat were Moran, the slow-moving character whom Cora had seen in the store; Bruce, the "society" chap; Kelly, a blunt and unscrupulous Irishman, who handled the money for the factory interests, and a man to run the boat. He had been brought in at the last minute.

"We lost a lot of time, towing those chumps," grumbled Moran, as the Pickerel forged ahead.

"Well, we were early," said Bruce. "I've had a man keeping watch on Shane's shack, and he was late getting in. He telephoned to me. It's just as well to let Shane get a bit settled before we tackle him. He was out fishing until long after dark."

Then the engineer slowed down the powerful motor as they came up to the dock.

It was this sound that Cora and her chums heard.



CHAPTER XXVI

CORA'S BRAVE RESOLVE

When the girls heard Cora's remark, that the approaching motor boat might contain the boys, Lottie said:

"Oh, we're all right now!" and she sighed in relief.

"How much you depend on them!" observed Belle, in a low voice. "When you've been with us a little longer you'll learn that we can do almost as well by ourselves."

"But I am glad the boys have arrived," agreed Cora. "I never was so pleased to know that they were on hand."

But a moment later, as they saw the forms of four men leaving the motor boat, which had been made fast to the dock, Cora shrank back, at the same time whispering a warning.

"Girls, something is wrong! Those aren't the boys. Quick, get out of sight!"

She pulled Bess behind a row of bushes, and the others followed silently. They had started down to the beach from the cabin, but fortunately managed to conceal themselves in time. The men, walking up the little slope toward the cabin, had not seen them.

Trembling with nervousness, Cora and her chums awaited the new turn of events. That it would come soon seemed likely, for the men appeared bent on something. They had made fast their boat, and came up the slope openly, as though their errand was the most innocent in the world. The light still glowed in the cabin.

"Oh, Cora!" gasped Marita. "Suppose they do——do something!"

"Which is very likely they will do," replied Cora. "But don't talk—I want to watch."

From behind the screen of bushes Cora watched the men coming forward. The moon still gave a good light, though it was declining in the west.

"Is he there?" Cora heard one of the men ask.

"He seems to be—there's a light going, anyhow," was the answer. "I'd rather found him in bed, but we can't have all we want."

"Oh, where are the boys!" cried Bess, frantically. "Why don't they come?"

"I don't know," answered Cora. "Surely they should have been here. But there must be a good reason why they are not. Jack wouldn't disappoint us."

"Why don't you include Walter and the others?" asked Belle.

"Of course you know I meant them," Cora retorted. "I can't understand it—really I can't."

"Perhaps they are in hiding," ventured Lottie.

"They'd have been out before this, if they were," declared Cora.

There came a sudden knock. It was one of the men striking on the door of Denny's cabin. From their hiding place in the bushes the girls heard it plainly.

"Listen!" whispered Cora.

They heard the voice of the old fisherman call:

"Who's there? What do you want at this time of night?"

"We've come to see you," was answered in tones Cora recognized as those of the young man who had raced with her.

"What about?" inquired Denny. "I have no fish to sell."

"And we don't want fish," was the retort. "Come, Shane, open your door. We want to talk to you. It's important, and there may be something in it for you."

"Yes—trouble, more or less. I can't see anything else," was the grumbling response. "Wait a minute."

Cora looked over the bushes. She could see the men grouped in front of the cabin door. Then she saw it open, and a broad beam of light shoot out.

"Come in," invited Denny, and the plotters entered.

"Now's our chance!" exclaimed Cora, her heart beating rapidly. "We must see what those men do. We may have to give evidence."

"Oh, dear!" sighed Marita. "I never could do it. I'd faint, sure."

"Do what?" asked Cora.

"Give evidence."

"Don't worry. You won't have to do anything hard, dear," was the gentle answer, as Cora slipped her arm about the timid girl.

"Oh, I'll do anything you girls do," was the quick answer. "I want to help."

"And we want your help," whispered Bess. "But, Cora, can't we go closer? We ought to look in and see what happens."

"Brave Bess!" murmured Lottie. "You are certainly coming on finely."

The plotters were now inside the cabin, so that it was safe for the girls to advance. This they did until they were once more in a position where they could look in the window of the cabin.

They saw a strange sight. Old Denny Shane, brave and rugged, confronted the four men who had called on him. In one hand he grasped the red oar, while the other rested on the back of the chair from which he had risen.

"Well, Mr. Shane," said the man Cora knew as Bruce. "We come to see you on business."

"What kind?" asked the old man, and the girls could see him look around as though seeking help or a means of escape. But there was no fear in his eyes. Only defiance.

"We might as well get to business at once," said one of the men, sharply. That was Kelly.

"That's right," agreed Moran. "Make him an offer. If he doesn't want to take it then we'll talk another kind of talk. And be quick about it."

"I want no business with you!" cried Denny, sharply. "Why do you come here bothering me?"

"You know why!" exclaimed Bruce. "You are concerned in the Lewis land matter. You can testify as to who owns it."

"Well, supposin' I can?" asked the old man, defiantly. "What is that to you?"

"Lots to us, and it may mean a great deal to you, also!" snapped out Kelly. "You may have some papers, too."

"I may," returned Denny, "but you'll not get 'em."

Cora and the others, listening, knew that Denny would only be too glad if he did have the documents in question. But the girls had heard him lamenting that he did not know where they were.

Why did he now let the men think he did know? It was a puzzle to the girls.

"Not get them, eh?" cried Bruce. "That's to be seen. Now look here, Shane. We came here to do business, and we're going to do it. By fair means if we can, if not——"

He paused suggestively.

"Ah! I know you and your breed!" cried the old fisherman. "By fair means or foul! But try it on! I'm not afraid of you."

He stepped back a pace, the better to defend himself in case he had to. The red oar was still in his firm hands.

"Now wait a minute," put in Moran. "We'll try the fair means first. What do you say to that? Show him the bills."

With a quick gesture Bruce drew out a roll of greenbacks.

"Here you go, Shane!" he exclaimed. "There's a cool hundred here, and it's yours if you testify that the Widow Lewis has no claim on the land. And she hasn't any claim that she can prove. All we want you to testify to is that her husband's father sold the land some time before his death. We'll do the rest."

"But he didn't sell it!" cried Denny. "It was his on his dyin' day, and it belongs to his son's widder and daughter now. That's the law, an' you know it."

"She can't prove that the land is hers," sneered Kelly.

"Maybe she can," returned Denny, quietly.

"Well, she can't unless you tell what you know," broke in Bruce. "We've found out that much. Now the factory wants that land, and it's going to get it. Here, I'll make it a hundred and fifty if you do as we want you to."

"An' testify to a lie?" cried Denny.

"It wouldn't be exactly a lie. Besides, we're willing to pay the widow a small sum."

"Not what the land's worth. That's valuable property," insisted Denny, "and it will keep her in her old age if she manages right. Be off with you! I'll stick to the Widder Lewis, so I will. Be off!" and he motioned them to the door. "You wouldn't have got this close if it hadn't been that my dog was dead. Be off!"

"Not so fast," Cora and her chums heard Bruce say. "We haven't said all we intend to."

"Oh, I'm sure something will happen now," quavered Bess.

"Hush," cautioned Cora. "We must do something!"

"Do something?" questioned Marita. "Oh, why don't the boys come?"

Cora and her chums were close to the cabin now. They could look in the door, and through the uncurtained window, and see plainly all that went on. They could also hear plainly, for the men and old Denny spoke loudly. And, as yet, the girls had not been noticed.

"Now, look here!" said Bruce, and there was a snarl in his voice. "This is our last offer, Shane. Either you take the hundred and fifty dollars, and testify the way we want you to, or we'll find means to make you, and you won't get the money. And I'll say this, that we'll treat the Widow Lewis as fair as we can."

"Which won't be fair at all!" burst out Denny. "Not at all!"

"Well, what's your answer?" cried Kelly. "We can't stay here all night. Give him the money, Bruce. When he feels it he'll hate to let it go."

Bruce held out the roll of bills. To the surprise of Cora and the girls the fisherman took them. Was he going to betray Freda and her mother?

The next instant they knew Denny for the brave-souled man he was.

"That's me answer!" he cried, throwing the bills in the face of Bruce. "Take your evil money and get out. I'll stick to the widder!"

For a moment the men were nonplussed. Then, with an angry exclamation, Bruce started forward.

"Come, girls," said Cora, "we've got to go to the aid of Denny. For some reason the boys aren't here. We've got to save him!" and with this brave resolve she moved toward the cabin.



CHAPTER XXVII

THE RED OAR AGAIN

"Cora Kimball, what are you going to do?" gasped Lottie, trying to hold back her chum.

"I'm going to go to Denny's aid. Why shouldn't I? It's four to one, but even if we are girls we can perhaps turn the tide in his favor."

"Oh, Cora, I don't dare!" admitted Belle.

"Nor I," added her plump sister. "I'll faint if you go in where those horrid men are."

"Faint if you like," returned Cora, calmly. "Somebody else will have to look after you, then, for I'm going."

"But why?" asked Lottie. "We ought not to interfere when men are going to fight, and I think that's what's going to happen in there."

"That is what's going to happen," said Cora, "but perhaps we can prevent it. For some unknown reason, though the boys promised to come here and defend Denny, they haven't done so. Therefore, it's our place to do it."

"Yes, and I'm going with you!" announced Marita, determinedly.

All this talk had taken but a few seconds of time, and, as it had been in whispers, the men in the cabin had not heard it. The situation, however, was rapidly becoming acute.

With one accord, after Bruce had stepped toward old Denny, the others advanced. They were evidently going to lay violent hands on him. But the sturdy fisherman was not afraid.

"Stand back!" he cried. "Stand back or I'll do you harm—you cowards!"

"No use calling names!" sneered Kelly. "We're here to do you. We made you a fair offer, and you wouldn't take it. Now you'll have to abide by the consequences."

"Get behind him," said Bruce. "I can take him from where I stand."

"Get back! Get out of here!" ordered the old man.

He raised the red oar over his head, threateningly.

"Grab him!" cried Moran. "Grab that oar!"

"You'll get it over the head before you grab it!" threatened Denny. "Mind that, now!"

The fisherman swung his weapon, but he either had not calculated on the length of it, or he forgot that he was nearer to the wall than he had been at first. The blade of the oar caught in a hanging picture, and was entangled in the wire.

Denny, putting all his strength into the blow he had hoped would disable one of his assailants, was thrown off his balance. He toppled and nearly fell.

"Now we've got him!" yelled Kelly.

The cowardly men, attacking the single fisherman with overwhelming numbers, made a leap forward.

"Stop! Let him alone. We'll call the police!" screamed Cora, and the other girls added their shrill voices to hers. They rushed into the cabin.

"The girls I raced with!" muttered Bruce. "We've no time to fool with them. Don't mind them. Get at Shane!"

"Get at me, is it?" cried the fisherman. He had by this time disentangled the oar from the picture wire. Again he raised it over his head, intending to bring it down on Kelly.

As the red weapon descended Kelly shot up his hand and caught it. He twisted on the oar to wrest it from Denny's grasp, and the two suddenly went to the floor, jarring the whole cabin.

And at that instant there was a sound of splintering, breaking wood. Some red slivers flew out from between the two prostrate men who were struggling for possession of the weapon.

"The red oar! It's broken!" cried Denny. "Me old red oar, that saved me life in the hands of Grandfather Lewis! The red oar is broken, bad luck to you! Cowards that you are!"

The girls were screaming, but even Cora, brave as she was, dared go no nearer to the two desperately struggling men. Bruce and Moran were seeking an opening that they might get hold of Denny. The fourth man had gone back to the boat, seemingly. He had leaped out of the window as the girls entered.

The cabin was a place of wild excitement.

"Get that oar away from him!" cried Bruce. "Here's some rope. Tie him up, and then we'll get what we want out of him!"

"Don't you dare hurt him!" screamed Cora.

"Ah, would you?" gasped Denny, as he rolled out from under Kelly, who had sought to pass a rope about the old man's wrists. "I'm not down and out yet!" he panted. "The red oar is broken, but I've got the best end yet."

He staggered to his feet, holding the handle of the red oar. One end was splintered where it had been broken from the blade.

"Come on! I'm not afraid!" yelled Denny. "Come on. You girls had better leave——there's going to be trouble!"

"We won't go! Help is on the way. The boys are coming!" cried Cora, though she did not know when Jack and the others would arrive.

"Oh, if they were only here now! When we need them so!" gasped Lottie.

Again Denny swung what was left of the red oar around his head. He aimed a blow at the face of Bruce, but it fell short and struck the man on the shoulder.

Then a strange thing happened. The handle of the oar split lengthwise, and from a hollow place inside there flew out a roll of papers, yellow with age. And on one of them was a red seal—a legal-looking seal.

Bruce staggered at the blow, and a strange look came over his face. It might have been that he was dazed, but his eyes lighted on the roll of papers that had fallen to the floor. There they lay—a curious roll that had come from the secret crevice in the red oar.

The struggle had come to a sudden end. The girls ceased screaming and stood looking on dumbly, unable to understand what had happened.

As for the men they, too, seemed startled by the strange turn of events. Kelly rose to his feet, and was creeping up on Denny from behind. His arms were outstretched, and his fingers worked convulsively, as though they would like to close about the fisherman's throat, and force him to testify as the plotters desired.

Cora wanted to scream a warning, but some strange force seemed to hold her dumb.

"The red oar—it's broken—broken! Me old red oar, that saved me life!" murmured Denny Shane. "But I never knew 'twas hollow. Never! I wonder did Grandfather Lewis——"

He did not complete the sentence, for at that instant Bruce leaped forward and caught up the roll of yellow papers from the floor.

"Give me those!" cried Denny leaping at him with the jagged piece of the red oar in his gnarled hands—the hands that had, so many years ago, grasped the same oar in what was little short of a death-grip. "Give me those papers!" fairly roared Denny. "I don't know what they are, but they're not yours. Give 'em to me!"

"Give you these! I guess not!" sneered Bruce. "They are just what we want—the land papers. They're the only ones by which the widow could prove her shadowy claim to the property, and with them out of the way it's all clear sailing for us.

"This is the luckiest thing that could have happened for us! The breaking of the red oar came at the right time. Kelly, give me a match and we'll make a little bonfire of these same papers."

"Don't you dare!" cried Denny, and, making a leap forward he snatched from Kelly's hands the precious documents that had so strangely come from the secret hiding place in the red oar.



CHAPTER XXVIII

THE DISCOVERY—CONCLUSION

Wild with rage the three men with one accord made a leap for Denny Shane. But the old fisherman was not to be easily taken. Holding the precious papers close to him, he made a jump for a corner of the room, where hung an old musket.

"Oh, he's going to shoot!" screamed Bess.

"And small blame to him if he did," declared Cora. "Oh, those men must not destroy those papers, if I have to take them in charge myself!"

Denny Shane had reached the corner where hung his musket. It was not loaded. Cora knew this, for the old fisherman had said he was always afraid of some accident happening, and he never kept a charge in the gun. It was for the effect of it, he said, that he had it hanging on his wall. Now it would be useful as a club, at least—more useful than the easily shattered red oar had been.

But before Denny could reach the gun Kelly was upon him. With a fierce motion the desperate plotter grasped the fisherman around the neck. Holding him thus with one arm, he snatched the papers from him with his other hand.

"Here you go!" Kelly cried to Bruce. "Take the papers while I hold him. Burn 'em if you want to, but be sure you do the job well! Then we'd better get out of here. I think I hear a boat coming. This place will soon be too hot for us!"

Bruce took the papers from his crony. Hastily scanning them, to make sure he had the right ones, he struck a match that Moran handed him.

Kelly and Denny were struggling in the corner of the room. But poor old Denny had not much strength left. The events of the night had been too much for him, and he was giving way under the cruel pressure of Kelly's arms.

"These are the very papers we want—or don't want, rather!" exulted Bruce. "With them out of the way the property is ours."

The match flickered in his fingers.

"Don't you dare burn them!" cried Cora.

One corner of the papers had caught fire.

Then from without the cabin sounded a chorus of cries.

"Come on, fellows!"

"We're just in time!"

"The girls are here ahead of us!"

"What a night!"

They were the voices of Jack and his chums.

"Oh, the boys have come! The boys have come!" cried Lottie.

"Jack! Jack! In here! Quick!" screamed Cora. "He's burning the papers! Get them from him!"

Into the cabin, already crowded, the boys flung themselves.

"Just in time!" cried Cora, motioning to Jack. "Get those papers from him before they burn!"

Over in the corner poor Denny had fallen unconscious under the attack of Kelly.

"Cut it and run!" advised Moran, making for the door.

"No, you don't!" shouted Walter, blocking it. "Guard the windows, Dray—Ed!" he called.

"The papers! The papers!" voiced Cora. "Get them before they burn, or Mrs. Lewis will lose the land!"

"I'll get them!" shouted Jack.

He flung himself upon Bruce as he had often flung himself upon a player in tackling him on the football field.

"Look out for yourself!" threatened Bruce.

But Jack was not afraid. He twisted himself about Bruce, and sought to reach the papers.

Bruce, to get them out of Jack's reach, held them high in the air, over his head. The two were struggling. Moran and Kelly were wrestling with Ed and Walter, while the other girls cowered behind Dray, who had caught up a chair as a weapon.

Cora saw her chance. She slipped around behind Bruce, and with a leap that had often enabled her to outwit an opponent in playing basket ball, the plucky motor girl snatched the papers from the man's hand. Full and clean was her jump, and the smouldering papers came away in her grasp.

"I have them, Jack!" she cried. "Look out for the men!"

And with that, to make sure that she would not lose the precious documents, Cora held them tightly under her arm and ran out of the cabin door, after putting out the little blaze.

"All over!" cried Jack, putting out his foot, and tripping up Bruce, who aimed a savage blow at him. "All over!"

Bruce went down heavily. At the same time, from without the cabin there flashed several lights, and the voices of men were heard asking:

"What's going on here?"

"Who's been screaming?"

The plotters gathered together. Bruce leaped from the floor.

"Come on!" he cried desperately. "It's all up. Get away!"

He leaped out of the window, followed by the other two.

"Get them!" yelled Ed.

"No, let them go—it's the easiest way," advised Jack. "Cora has the papers."

"But maybe they've hurt Denny!" said Walter.

"I'm all right," asserted the fisherman, as he slowly arose. "He just cut off my wind for a minute. I'm all right. But where are the papers?" and he looked about the floor, on which were scattered pieces of the broken red oar.

"They're safe," answered Jack. "Cora, my sister, has them. Guess we'd better look for her though."

There was no need, as Cora, holding the papers in her hand, re-entered the cabin at that moment. Only one edge of the legal documents was burned, and no real harm had been done.

While the motor girls, and the boys and the neighboring men, who had come to the rescue all but too late, were looking at one another there was heard, at the dock, the puffing of a motor boat.

"There they go!" exclaimed Walter.

"Well, that's the best way," said Jack. "We're glad to get rid of them."

"How did you girls get here?" asked Ed.

"How was it you boys didn't get here?" demanded Cora, still panting from her exertions.

Explanations were then in order. I will be as brief with them as I can. How the girls came to go to the cabin is already known. And how the boys, foolishly perhaps, went out on the bay while waiting for Denny to come back, and how they became stalled, is likewise known to my readers.

In the meanwhile Denny came to his cabin.

Then came the unexpected help in the shape of a tow from the plotters themselves.

"They left us at Buler's," said Jack, "and then we had our own troubles. We tried to get a boat to come on, for the Dixie still refused to move. But we couldn't get one for love or money, and it was too rough to row."

"What did you do?" asked Cora, looking at Denny, who was examining the broken red oar.

"We hired a horse and carriage, and came around the land way," replied Walter. "It took us a long time, too, for we missed the road."

"But we finally got here," spoke Ed.

"And just in time," added Cora. "We were wild about you—couldn't imagine what happened."

"Didn't you get the note we left pinned to the door?" asked Dray of Denny.

"Nary a note," he said.

Later it was found where it had blown into a clump of bushes. So that accounted for Denny's not being warned in time.

"But everything seems to be coming out right," said Cora, with a rather wintry smile. All the girls were pale, and a trifle weak. The boys, too, were tired.

"And what are those papers?" asked Jack, taking them from Cora.

"Those prove Mrs. Lewis's title to the land the plotters tried to get," she said. "Oh, I'm so glad we found them."

"Who found them?" asked Walter, giving Cora's hand a surreptitious squeeze.

"They were in the red oar," said Denny. "And to think I never knew it! They were there all these years, and all of us worrying about them and wondering where they were. But I understand now. Grandfather Lewis must have hollowed out a hole in the handle, hid the papers in it, and then plugged it up. Then he gave the oar to me to keep. I remember well at the time he said it would prove valuable some day. I often wondered what made the oar lighter than it had been. It was because it was hollowed out.

"I asked him what he meant by sayin' the oar was valuable, but he kept puttin' me off. He said he'd tell me some time, but he never did. Then the day he died he sent for me, and was trying to tell me, I guess, but he couldn't. I remember I wondered what was on his mind, but he was too weak to explain. So he died with his secret, and the red oar had it and kept it all these years.

"But the oar broke, or those men and myself broke it between us, and the papers fell out. Now the widder will get her rights."

And the Widow Lewis did. Leaving the valuable documents with Denny, the motor girls and the boys went back to their stopping places—the girls to the bungalow, the boys to the tent.

And such a time as Cora and her chums had in telling the good news to Mrs. Lewis and Freda! The latter could hardly believe it at first.

"Oh, how can we ever thank you!" cried Freda, as, with tears in her eyes, she embraced Cora.

"Don't try," was the whispered answer.

And so everything came out right after all. The papers so oddly hidden in the red oar proved the widow's title to the valuable land beyond the shadow of a doubt. As for the plotters, they were not seen again in that part of the country. They realized that the sharp trick they had tried to play had failed, thanks to the activities of Cora and her friends.

Mrs. Lewis easily established her claim to the land, moved back to her cottage, and the project of spoiling the public park was abandoned. The factory company was beaten in court and the members of the corporation were forced to pay heavy costs.

Old Denny came in for his share of credit, and he was very happy. His one lament was that the red oar was broken, but he managed to patch it together, after a fashion. And the motor girls got him another dog.

The opening by which the papers had been put in the hollow handle had been cleverly concealed, and, only for the accidental breaking of the oar, might never have been discovered.

It had probably been the intention of Grandfather Lewis to disclose the secret hiding place of the land papers, but he had died before he could do this.

"But 'all's well that ends well,'" quoted Cora the next day, at a late breakfast. "We have done a little good here by our vacation at Crystal Bay."

"A little good!" exclaimed Freda. "I never can thank you enough, Cora."

"And we'll soon have to go back home—that's the worst of it!" sighed Lottie. "It is so lovely here!"

"Oh, well, we can come back next year," spoke Bess.

"And then, too, Winter's coming on—something is sure to happen then," added Belle. "Something always does."

And what did happen that Winter will be told of in the volume to follow this, which will be called "The Motor Girls on Waters Blue; Or, The Strange Cruise of the Tartar."

It was the next day. The girls disposed themselves about the bungalow in picturesque attitudes, and the boys sat on the broad porch, telling over again the adventures of the night.

"There's only one point we're shy on," said Jack, when everything had been told and retold.

"And that's what?" asked Ed.

"We haven't found out yet who the strange woman was who tried to get information out of Freda, and who sent her the 'phone message."

"Oh, we're just as well off without knowing that," said Cora. "I'm sure she was in with the plotters. You know that man Bruce called her 'Confidence Kate,' as if he knew her well."

"You must have been terribly frightened, when you found out there was no way of getting home from the Junction," said Marita. "I think I should have gone out of my mind."

"Don't believe her, Freda," laughed Cora, putting her arm around the timid girl. "Marita is braver than she thinks. She offered to go into the cabin with me when those horrid men were there, and none of the others would."

"Come on over to Buler's and see 'em dance," proposed Jack. "The Dixie is running again."

"We'll go in the Chelton," spoke Cora firmly, and in that boat they went. And now for a time, we will take leave of the motor girls.

THE END