The Motor Girls in the Mountains: or, The Gypsy Girl's Secret
TextCHAPTER XXIII
A TANGLED SKEIN
Belle followed Cora’s gaze.
“Sure enough,” she ejaculated, “it’s that man Higby!”
“What do you suppose he’s doing here?” wondered Cora.
“I suppose he’s off on his vacation,” hazarded Bess. “Likely enough he’s stopping at one of the boarding houses in Wilton.”
“You girls seem to be hypnotized,” laughed Jack. “We’ll get jealous if you keep looking at those chaps any longer.”
“Do you see that man over there?” asked Cora, indicating Higby.
“The fellow with the rainbow tie?” asked Jack. “Yes, I see him. What of him?”
“That’s the man who tried to scrape acquaintance with us, and nearly got my purse later on.”
“I’d like to pick a quarrel with him and punch his head,” said Jack savagely.
“You won’t do anything of the kind, Jack Kimball,” warned Cora.
“So that’s our hated rival, is it?” asked Paul, looking at the young man with some amusement.
“I’ll have his heart’s blood,” hissed Walter tragically.
“It’s very queer,” mused Cora. “Don’t you remember, girls, how the gypsy girl nearly fainted when Bess happened to mention Higby’s name? And here he is now in the same camp with her.”
“I’d like to be near by when they meet,” remarked Belle.
“Still looking for a mystery,” chaffed Walter. “It beats all how you girls can pounce on trifles and make a mountain out of them.”
“Give them an ounce of fact and they’ll get a ton of romance,” agreed Paul.
“We’re not asking for your approval,” retorted Cora. “This is a case that requires brains and naturally you boys are all at sea.”
“I don’t see that you’ve reached harbor anywhere,” drawled Jack.
“Not yet,” admitted Cora, “but that doesn’t say we won’t. I wonder where that girl can be,” she continued, as she looked searchingly around.
“Perhaps they’ve sent her over to Wilton to tell fortunes there,” suggested Paul. “These gypsies don’t wait for business to come to them. They hunt it up.”
“Oh, I hope not!” exclaimed Cora. “The only reason I cared to come over here was to see her.”
But although they loitered about the place for another hour or two, they saw no trace of the gypsy girl.
They were agreeably surprised, however, to run across Mr. Baxter, with whom their relations had grown cordial since he had exerted himself so strenuously in the search for Cora. But despite the pleasant footing on which they stood, there was still that baffling sense of reticence that enveloped him in everything concerning himself.
“Come over to get your fortune told?” asked Jack with a grin.
“Not exactly,” smiled Mr. Baxter, “though I’m always in the market for exact information.”
“I hope you don’t mean to imply that there’s anything phony about the dope they hand out here,” laughed Walter.
“We saw your friend, Mr. Morley, yesterday,” remarked Cora.
Mr. Baxter shot a sharp look at her.
“Is that so?” he inquired. “How did you happen to know we were acquainted?”
“He told me so himself,” returned Cora promptly.
“Well, that ought to be pretty good authority,” replied Mr. Baxter.
But he showed no disposition to pursue the subject, as Cora had wished he would, and the conversation turned into other channels.
Mr. Baxter excused himself shortly, and the party strolled on. The girls bought bits of bead and embroidered work from the women, and had their fortunes told twice, spinning out the time in the hope that they would meet the girl they sought. But she did not appear, and at last they made their way to the cars, sorely disappointed.
They had gone only a little way when Bess exclaimed:
“Look! There’s some one behind those bushes.”
The others looked, but could see nothing.
“You’re dreaming, I guess,” remarked her sister.
“Nothing of the kind!” replied Bess indignantly. “I have eyes. And it was a woman, too. I caught a glimpse of her skirts.”
“Well, suppose it is,” observed Jack nonchalantly. “She has a right to be there if she wants to. The woods are free.”
“I wish you’d get down and see,” pleaded Cora.
“Oh, very well,” replied Jack resignedly. “Since you girls are determined to butt in, I suppose I’ll have to be the goat.”
He got down from the car, but at that moment the bushes parted, and a girl stepped out into the road. She was gaily dressed and had a tambourine in her hand.
But there was no suggestion of gaiety in her face, which was distressed and bore traces of recent tears.
Cora uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure.
“Why,” she cried, “it’s the gypsy girl!”
The girl looked up and tried to smile, but it was a forlorn attempt.
The girls stepped down from the car and gathered about her. The boys would have followed, but Cora interposed.
“You boys drive on a little way and wait for us,” she directed. “We’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
The boys looked at each other and laughed, but they obeyed. Then Cora turned to the girl.
“You seem to be in trouble of some kind,” she said gently. “I wonder if we couldn’t help you?”
The gypsy hesitated.
“Don’t be afraid,” urged Cora. “We’re all girls together here, and we’ll do anything we can to help you if you’ll only let us.”
The girl started to speak in her gypsy patter, and here Cora hazarded a bold stroke.
“Don’t talk that way,” she said with a winning smile. “I’m sure you can use as good English as we can if you want to.”
The shot went home, and the girl flushed under the tan that bronzed her cheeks.
“I don’t know why you think that,” she said in a low voice.
“It was from something you said the other day when you were off your guard,” replied Cora. “Of course I don’t want to meddle with your affairs, but I do want that we should be friends. My name is Cora and this is Bess and this Belle. What is your name?”
“They call me Nina,” replied the girl, who was visibly melting under the charm of Cora’s personality.
“Now won’t you tell us just what the matter is?” continued Cora. “I can see that you have been crying.”
“I was frightened,” answered the girl.
“Do the gypsies treat you badly?” asked Cora.
“No,” replied Nina. “They’re rough sometimes, but they’re kindly at heart. But there was some one over at the camp to-day that I haven’t seen for a long time, and that I hoped I never would see. I’m afraid of him. He didn’t see me, but I saw him, and I ran away to hide in the woods till he should be gone.”
The girls looked at each other, and the same name came to the minds of all three.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE KNOCKING AT MIDNIGHT
“I think I know his name,” said Cora quietly.
The girl looked at her in surprise.
“How can you know?” she asked.
“Because you nearly fainted the other day when you heard it mentioned,” returned Cora, “and we saw that same man over at the camp to-day. His name is Higby.”
The girl started violently, but whether she would have admitted it they did not know, for just at that moment a call came from the depths of the woods:
“Nina, Nina!”
“My people are looking for me!” exclaimed Nina. “It wouldn’t do for them to find me here talking with you. They’re suspicious of everybody. I’ll have to go.”
“But we must see you again,” said Cora. “We simply must. Can’t you come over to our place and have a long talk with us? We live at Camp Kill Kare, only about four miles from here.” And she hastily gave the needed directions for finding the way.
Again the cry arose from the woods, but nearer this time.
“Nina, Nina!”
“Perhaps I will come,” said Nina hurriedly. “But you had better not come over to the camp again. If they suspect anything they will shut me up in one of the vans until they go away. Good-bye,” and she scurried away into the woods.
The girls looked after her regretfully and then climbed into their car and drove ahead to where the boys were waiting for them with more or less patience.
“Well, how did you amateur sleuths make out?” asked Jack, as they drew alongside.
“Foiled again, judging from their faces,” observed Paul.
“The committee reports progress and asks to be continued,” chimed in Walter in his best parliamentary manner.
“I thought only women were curious,” said Belle scathingly.
“You boys drive on,” directed Bess. “This is a matter for us girls to settle.”
“We’re clearly in the second-fiddle class,” grumbled Jack, as he threw in the clutch and took the lead.
“Wasn’t it the most exasperating thing?” observed Bess, as the girls settled down for a “comfy” talk. “Just as we were on the very point of finding out perhaps about that Higby, she had to go.”
“Goodness knows when we’ll see her again, if ever,” sighed Belle pessimistically.
“I’m glad she has the Kill Kare address anyway,” replied Cora. “She may come over to see us. But if she doesn’t, I’ll find out some way of getting in touch with her again.”
“Well, as Walter said, the committee has made some progress anyway,” said Bess.
“I don’t see where,” put in her sister. “We don’t really know any more of her story than we did before.”
“Not of the real story, perhaps,” admitted Cora, “but we know some things now, where formerly we only suspected them. We know, for instance, that Higby is the man she’s afraid of. She didn’t actually admit it, though I think she was about to, but his being there to-day and her hiding make it practically certain. It just couldn’t be a mere coincidence.
“Then too,” Cora continued, “we know that she can speak perfect English when she wants to. And she has the accent of an educated girl.”
“But that doesn’t prove she isn’t a gypsy,” said Belle. “I’ve heard sometimes of gypsy fathers, especially the chiefs of tribes, sending their daughters to good schools. I suppose at the time they intend to keep them away from gypsy surroundings altogether. But then the wild feeling in their blood comes out and they drift back to the camp life again.”
“I know that happens sometimes,” agreed Cora thoughtfully, “but it’s very rare, and all the chances are against it’s being true in this particular case. And then, too, the blue eyes the girl has show that she isn’t of gypsy birth.”
“But even if that is true,” objected Belle, “I don’t see what good we can do the girl by getting mixed up in this. If she’s with the gypsies, she may be there of her own accord. She seems to be treated well enough. She didn’t say anything about wanting to get away from them.”
“She hasn’t had time to tell us very much yet,” answered Cora. “But we’re letting the boys get too far ahead of us,” and she put more speed into her car and soon caught up with them.
The next day the rain came down in torrents. It beat in a perfect deluge on roof and windows, and even swept in on the big capacious porch, so that outdoor life of any kind was out of the question.
But it could not dampen the high spirits of the party at Camp Kill Kare. They had been so constantly on the go that the little interval of forced inactivity was not after all unwelcome. The girls were able to catch up with neglected bits of sewing. Then there was the library stocked with choice books, and one of the girls read aloud while the others worked.
The boys ensconced themselves in the barn with Joel, where the old backwoodsman regaled them with stories of his adventures in the earlier days when he had been one of the most noted guides in the Adirondack region.
After supper a big wood fire blazed on the open hearth and took the edge from the damp chill that sought to invade the house. The girls furnished music, and boys and girls together sang songs until they were tired.
The girls had been asleep for an hour or more when Cora was awakened by a knocking on the front door.
“Who on earth can that be at this hour of the night?” she wondered, as she raised herself on her elbow to listen.
The knocking continued, and as nobody else seemed awake to answer it, Cora slipped out of bed, donned a kimono, and softly woke Bess and Belle.
“What is it?” asked Belle drowsily.
“Go away and let me sleep,” murmured Bess, turning over on her pillow.
“There’s somebody knocking at the front door,” explained Cora. “I’m going down to see who it is, and I want you girls to go with me.”
“It may be a burglar!” exclaimed Belle.
“You might get hurt!” protested Bess, wide awake now.
“Nonsense!” laughed Cora. “Burglars don’t usually announce their coming by knocking at the door. Besides, I’ll find out who it is before I open. Slip on your kimonos and come along.”
They obeyed, not without some inward shrinking.
“Don’t you think you ought to wake the boys?” asked Belle, hesitating on the landing.
“I couldn’t do that without waking the whole house, Aunt Betty and all,” answered Cora. “Besides, the boys would have the laugh on us and try to patronize us. We don’t want to be looked on as a lot of cowards.”
Both of the sisters seemed to be perfectly willing just at that moment to be included in that ignominious category, but they were accustomed to follow where Cora led, and they went down the stairs, their slippered feet making no noise.
The knocking still continued, though it seemed weaker than at first.
Cora, with her lighted bedroom candle in her hand, softly approached the door, which was secured by a double lock and also by a heavy chain.
“Who is there?” she asked.
“Please let me in,” came in a woman’s voice from outside.
“Who are you?” Cora repeated.
“Nina,” was the answer. “Oh, please let me in!”
Cora unfastened the chain and turned the key, and as she opened the door the gypsy girl staggered into the bungalow.
CHAPTER XXV
FALSELY ACCUSED
The Motor Girls caught the gypsy girl as she was about to fall and seated her in a chair.
“You poor, poor thing!” exclaimed Cora.
“Out in this pouring rain!” ejaculated Belle.
“And drenched to the skin!” added Bess.
The newcomer presented a pitiable appearance. Her gaudy apparel was torn and bedraggled, her wet hair clung about her face, and she was gasping with exhaustion.
“I had to come!” she panted. “I was afraid!”
Cora had formed her plans with quick decision.
“We must keep this to ourselves for to-night, girls,” she said in a low voice. “She’d be miserable and embarrassed if the boys should come down. We’ll tell them all about it to-morrow. The first thing to do is to get her up in our rooms and give her some dry clothes. Then we’ll get her something to eat and drink and put her to bed. She can tell us her story later.”
“Oh, you are so good!” exclaimed the gypsy girl, covering her face with her hands.
As quietly as they could, they helped her up the stairs and rummaged in their closets for towels and clothes. Then they all set to work, and in a little while the newcomer was dry and warmly dressed in civilized garments.
She was of about the same size as Cora and Belle, and they had no trouble in fitting her out. Bess would have been equally willing to contribute some of her belongings, but her “plumpness” forbade.
It was astonishing to see the difference wrought in Nina by the assumption of the garments of ordinary life. She looked in them, as Belle remarked, “to the manner born,” and when they had dressed her hair in the way they wore their own, there was little trace of the gypsy left, except her bronzed complexion.
She gave a little cry of feminine delight as they made her look at herself in the mirror.
“Oh, it’s so long since I wore clothes like these!” she murmured.
“And now,” said Cora, as she gazed with pleasure on the transformation that had been wrought, “we’ll all go down to the kitchen and see what we can get in the way of something to eat.”
They stole downstairs and the girls ransacked the larder. They found plenty of cold meat and bread and preserves. Belle got out a chafing dish and scrambled some eggs, and Cora brewed a pot of fragrant coffee. Bess set the table and they all gathered about it and ate heartily.
The girls thrilled with the romance of it all. The drenching storm, the midnight hour, the gypsy visitor, the feeling that they were involved in a mystery made them tingle. Then, too, the knowledge that all this was taking place while the other occupants of the house were unconscious of it gave a touch of the surreptitious and the clandestine that was not without its charm.
The gypsy girl of course was somewhat self-conscious, as she could not help being under the peculiar circumstances, but the girls noticed that her table manners were good, and they were more and more confirmed in their conviction that she was not what her dress and surroundings had made her appear.
She spoke mostly in monosyllables and only when addressed, and every once in a while they could see the look of anxiety and fear come into her eyes that they had noted the day before.
“Well,” said Cora at last, when they had finished sipping their coffee, “I guess we’d better get up to bed. You need a good night’s rest,” she continued, addressing their guest, “and we’ll fix you up a bed in our rooms. In the morning you will be in better shape to tell us all you care to.”
“But you ought to know all about me before you do that,” replied Nina. “It isn’t fair to you. Perhaps after you have heard why I came you may regret taking me in.”
“We’ll never be sorry for that,” declared Cora emphatically; “and I feel sure you’ve never done anything you ought to be ashamed of.”
Nina’s face glowed with gratitude at the generous speech.
“Oh, I never have!” she cried. “But I’ve been accused of doing it, and that sometimes in the eyes of the world amounts to nearly the same thing.”
She had dropped all pretence to gypsy speech now, and spoke like any other American girl of good breeding and education.
“I think I’ll tell you now,” she cried impulsively. “That is, if you’re not too tired to hear it?”
“Not a bit,” answered Cora, who was inwardly delighted.
“I’m just dying to hear it, to tell the truth,” said Bess frankly.
“So am I,” echoed her sister.
“You are right,” began Nina, “in thinking that I am not a gypsy. I am an American girl and I was born in this State. And my name isn’t Nina either. But it will have to do for the present, because until this matter is cleared up, I don’t want to tell my real name.
“My mother and father died when I was quite young, and I went to live with an uncle. He was an unusual man, and though no doubt he was fond of me in a way, our natures were too different for us to get along well together. I was hot tempered and hasty and we often quarreled. It was after an exceedingly bitter quarrel that I made up my mind that I would run away from home and earn my own living.
“I got a position in a department store, with just enough pay to keep body and soul together. Again and again I was tempted to go back and make things up with my uncle. But that silly pride of mine kept me from doing it. Oh, how I wish I had!
“There had been a number of thefts in the store, and the manager was furious. He told all the employees that the next one who was caught would be sent to jail. Up to that time he had usually been content with discharging them.
“One day I was called to his office and accused of having picked up a lady’s purse that had been laid on a counter. A man who was employed in the store said that he had seen me take it.
“I was frightened nearly to death, for I had never even seen the purse. But it was found lying under my counter, as though I had hidden it there. I cried and begged and protested, but it did no good.”
“You poor child!” exclaimed Cora, deeply affected.
“The manager must have been a brute!” cried Bess indignantly.
“I suppose he thought I was really guilty,” said Nina, “and he was exasperated by the many other thefts. I thought I should go mad. He took up the telephone to call for a policeman, and in that minute when his back was turned I slipped out of the door down the stairs and into the street.
“Some way I got into the outskirts of the town, where I found a camp of gypsies. I don’t remember much after that. I suppose I must have collapsed. But they took me in and nursed me, and when I came to consciousness again some days afterward, I found that the caravan had moved on and was in a strange town a good way off from Roxbury.”
“Roxbury!” exclaimed Cora.
“That’s where I had been employed,” went on Nina. “When I found myself lying in a gypsy van, with an old woman taking care of me, I did a lot of hard thinking. With the gypsies I was safe. Nobody would think of looking for me there. But anywhere else I was likely to be arrested at any minute. And I would rather have died than gone to jail.
“So I stayed on with them and learned to tell fortunes. I didn’t know what else to do, and gradually I got used to it. But I’ve never been really happy there. And I’ve watched everybody who came to the camp, for fear he might be an officer.”
Cora reached over and took the girl’s hand comfortingly in her own.
Quick tears evoked by the sympathetic action sprang to Nina’s eyes, but she brushed them away and went on:
“I never met anybody I really knew until yesterday. Then I saw a man whom I had known in Roxbury. That’s the reason you found me hiding in the woods. I was relieved when I went back to find that he had gone.
“But to-day he came upon me unawares, and he knew me through all my gypsy disguise. He threatened to expose me, to hand me over to the police. I was wild with fright. You had been kind to me and I thought of you. I waited to-night till the camp was asleep, and then I slipped out. And here I am.”