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

CHAPTER XVII
THE LIGHT KEEPER’S STORY

“Hurray! She’s going!”

It was Jack who cried this.

“‘She starts, she moves, she seems to feel – ’”

“As though we’d catch a wiggling eel!”

Thus Ed began the quotation, and thus Walter ended it. The boys had been working in the motor boat, and had only now, after several hours, succeeded in getting it to respond to their labors. The motor started with a sound that “meant business,” as Jack expressed it.

“Let’s go for a run,” suggested Norton.

“Better wait for the girls–it’s their boat,” returned Walter.

“And we’d better pump some of the water out of her,” added Jack. “She leaks like a sieve.”

“Pump her out, and by the time the girls are here she’ll be ready,” spoke Walter.

“It was that carbureter all the while,” declared Ed. “I knew it was!”

“I was sure it was in the secondary coil,” came from Jack.

“And you couldn’t make me believe but what it was one of the spark plugs,” was Norton’s contribution. “But it was the carbureter, all right.”

“All wrong, you mean,” half grumbled Walter, whose hands were covered with grease and gasoline. “Some one had opened the needle valve too far.”

“Well, let’s get busy with the pump,” Jack said. “It’s too nice to be hanging around the float.”

The Pet was soon in as good condition as hasty work could make her, and on the arrival of the girls the whole party went out for a spin, though they were a bit crowded. Cora was at the wheel, a position her right to which none disputed.

“I don’t know these waters around here,” she admitted, “but Rosalie said there was a good depth nearly all over the Cove, even at low tide.”

“Rosalie being the mermaid?” asked Norton. “I should like to meet her.”

“I have asked her over to the bungalow,” went on Cora. “But I warn you that she is a very sensible girl.”

“Meaning that I am not?” challenged Norton.

“Not a girl–certainly,” observed Jack.

“Not sensible!” exclaimed Norton.

“Don’t give them an opening, boy,” cautioned Ed. “You don’t know these girls as I do.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” was the contribution from Bess.

“Why don’t you talk?” asked Jack of Belle.

“She’s too interested in how deep the water is, and wondering if she will float as well as dripping Dick,” mocked Eline.

“I am not!” promptly answered Belle. “And just to show you that I’m not afraid I’m going to try to swim as soon as we go in bathing.”

“Which will be to-morrow,” said Cora.

They motored about the bay, winding in and out among anchored and moving craft. Cora was as adept at the wheel of the Pet as she was at that of the Whirlwind, and many admiring comments were made by other steersmen in the Cove, though Cora knew it not.

“She stood her land journey well,” remarked Bess, as she noted how well the engine was running.

“But you should have seen the trouble we had,” complained Walter. “We thought she’d never go!”

The day was lovely, and it was a temptation to stay out, but Cora was wise enough not to remain too long on the water. Already the effect of the hot sun was evident on the hands and faces of all, and the girls were secretly wishing for some talcum powder.

They went back to the float, arrangements having been made to dock the Petrel there. Then came a hasty meal and another spin.

They were getting matters down to a system in the bungalows now–at least the girls were. The boys lived haphazard, as they always did, and perhaps always would. Mrs. Chester–Aunt Susan–in the absence of Mrs. Fordam, who had returned home–assumed charge of Cora and her friends to the extent of seeing that meals were ready on time.

It was their third day at the coast, the time having been well occupied–every hour of it almost–and the girls were out alone in the Pet– the boys having gone fishing–when Cora observed a figure in a red bathing suit near the lighthouse float waving to them.

“Rosalie–the mermaid!” exclaimed Bess. “What can she want?”

“Perhaps her little brother is in the water again,” said Belle.

“No, she doesn’t seem excited enough for that,” spoke Eline.

“We’ll go see,” was Cora’s decision.

The Pet circled up to the float and came to a stop at its side, not a jar marring the landing.

“Well done!” said Rosalie to Cora. “There are not many girls who can run a motor boat like that.”

“I have had some practice,” was the modest reply.

“Father will be glad to see you,” went on the mermaid, with a smile. “He has just been polishing the light, and I know he’ll be glad to show you through.”

She glanced meaningly at Cora, who returned the look.

“Welcome, ladies!” greeted Mr. Haley. “I’m real glad to see you. Visitors are always welcome. Are you good climbers?”

“Why?” asked Eline.

“Because we have no elevator, and it’s quite a step to the top of the tower.”

“Oh, we can do it,” Cora declared.

They were shown through the light, and the keeper explained how, by means of clock-work, propelled by heavy weights, the great lens was revolved, making the flashing light. It turned every five seconds, sending out a signal that all the mariners knew, each lighthouse being in a different class, and the signals they gave, either fixed or stationary, being calculated to distinguish different parts of the coast where danger lies.

On their return to the neat parlor, on the appearance of which the girls complimented Rosalie, who kept house for her father–his wife being dead–Cora saw a photograph lying on the centre table. At the sight of it she exclaimed:

“That is she!”

“Who? What do you mean?” cried Mr. Haley. “That is my sister!”

“And it is the woman who was in our barn!” Cora said. “I have thought all along it was. Now I am sure of it. Mr. Haley, I am sure I do not want to pry into your family affairs, but your daughter said something about her aunt being missing, and how worried you were. I am sure we have met her since–since her trouble. Perhaps we can help you.”

“Oh, if you only could!” exclaimed the light keeper. “My poor sister! Where can she be?”

“Suppose you tell me a little about her, and then I–and my friends–can decide whether the woman we met is the one pictured there,” and Cora passed the photograph to Bess.

“There isn’t much to tell,” said the keeper of the light, slowly. “My sister is a widow. After her husband died she went to Westport to work in an office. She had been a clerk before her marriage. Everything seemed to go well for a time and she occasionally wrote to me how much she liked it. A friend of hers was in the same building.

“Then my sister’s letters ceased suddenly. I got worried and wrote to her friend. I got an answer, saying there had been a robbery in the office where my sister worked, and that my sister had disappeared. A young girl left at the same time, and there was some doubt about the robbery, though two men were mentioned as being concerned in it. But my poor sister must have felt that they would suspect her–and she never would take a pin belonging to anyone else. But she went away, and I’ve tried all means to locate her, but I can’t. It has me worried to death, nearly.”

“What was your sister’s name?” asked Cora.

“Margaret Raymond.”

“That is the same woman!” spoke Cora, firmly. “Oh, to think we didn’t ask her more about herself!”

By degrees she and the other girls told the story of the woman in the burning barn. They did not so much as hint of their first suspicions about the fire.

“And what was the name of the girl who worked in the office with her?” asked Belle.

“Nancy Ford,” answered Mr. Haley.

“There can be no doubt of it,” declared Cora. “That settles it. What a coincidence! That we should find her brother here!”

“Oh, can you tell me where my sister is?” asked the light keeper.

“I am very sorry, but she went away in a hurry from my house,” said Cora, “and we have not seen her since. We feel sure she was the woman the sheep herder met that same night,” and she told about that incident.

“Bless that kind man–he helped her some, anyhow, and bless you girls,” said Mr. Haley, fervently. His eyes were moist, and those of the girls were not altogether dry.

“How can we trace her?” asked Bess.

“The only way I see,” spoke Cora, “is to write to the town toward which she went after the sheep man saw her. The authorities there might give some information.”

“I’ll do it!” cried the light keeper, as he made a note of the place. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Oh, we have done scarcely anything,” answered Cora. “We wish it were much more.”

Further details and forgotten incidents were mentioned as bearing on the case, and then the girls departed in the boat. It was a little rough going back, and the spray flew over them.

“Isn’t it strange?” observed Belle.

“Very queer how it all turned out,” agreed Eline.

“Poor woman,” said Cora. “I feel so sorry for her!”

The boys remained out fishing nearly all day, and when they returned, not having had exceptional luck, Cora took Jack to one side and asked:

“What was the name of the girl you and Ed met on the road the time of our break-down?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, Sis. If I knew I’d have sent her a souvenir postal. What’s the answer?”

“Oh, nothing, I thought perhaps she had mentioned it.”

“Nary a word. Did you have a nice ride?”

“Yes, we went to the lighthouse. And, Jack, what do you think? That woman–the one in our garage–is Mr. Haley’s sister!”

Jack was properly astonished, and he and the other boys listened with interest to the story of the identification.

“Say,” drawled Norton, “if we find Nancy Ford and Mrs. Raymond we’ll be doing a good thing.”

“If,” observed Ed, significantly.

CHAPTER XVIII
BELLE SWIMS

The tide was just right. In their newest bathing suits the motor girls had assembled on the beach in the hot sun. Their white arms and necks showed the winter of indoors, but their faces had already taken on the tan of the seaside. Soon arms and necks would be in accord.

The boys were out on the float, splashing about, occasionally “shooting the chutes” and diving from the pier.

“Is the water cold?” asked Cora, going down to where the waves splashed on the pebbles. Daintily she dipped in–just a toe. “How is it, Jack?”

Jack was tumbling about near the beach like a porpoise.

“Sw–swell!” he managed to gasp, the hesitancy being because a wave insisted on looking at his tongue, or trying to scrub his already white teeth–Cora could not decide which.

“Is it really warm?”

“Of course!”

“It feels cold.”

“I know. That’s because you stand there and stick one toe in. Get wet all over and–you’ll feel – ”

Jack was suddenly plunged under water by Walter, who had come swimming up, so the sentence was not finished. But Cora could guess it.

“I’m going in; come on, girls!” she cried.

“Oh, wait a little,” pleaded Belle.

“And you said you were going to learn to swim to-day!” challenged Eline. She looked particularly well in her dainty bathing costume.

“Well, I–I didn’t know the water would be so deep!”

“Deep!” echoed Cora. “It’s getting shallower all the while. The tide is going out. Come on.”

She waded out a short distance, bravely repressing the spasmodic screams that sprang to her lips, and turning to the others said:

“It–it’s–fi–fine–co–come on–in!”

“Listen to her!” cried Bess. “It must be like a refrigerator to make her stammer like that.”

“It is not,” said Cora. “It–it’s real–real warm–when you–you–get used to it.”

“I have heard said,” remarked Eline with studied calmness, “that one can get used to anything–if one only makes up one’s mind to it.”

“Come–come on – ”

Cora did not finish. A wave splashed up on her, taking her breath. Then, resolving to get it over with, she strode out, threw herself under water and a moment later was swimming beside Jack.

“Cora’s in!” exclaimed Bess. “I’m going too.”

“So am I,” added Eline. “Come on, Belle!”

Belle hesitated.

“I can only swim a few strokes,” she said. “I learned at Lake Dunkirk.”

“It’s much easier in salt water than fresh,” insisted Eline, taking hold of Belle’s arm. “Do try!”

Hesitatingly Belle waded out into the water. She gasped and choked as the chill struck through her, then, resolving to be brave, she plunged herself under. She gasped more than ever, but did not give up.

“You are doing fine!” cried Eline, as she struck out toward the float.

Suddenly Belle screamed.

“Are you going down?” asked Eline in alarm, yet they were not out beyond their depth.

“No, she’s going up!” asserted Walter, who was swimming near by.

“Don’t make fun of her!” commanded Cora.

“I’m not. She’s making fun of herself.”

Again Belle screamed.

“Oh! Oh!” she cried. “Something has me! I–I’m sure it’s a lobster.”

“None of us boys missing!” joked Ed, as he splashed up.

“Lobsters are worth forty cents a pound! Save that one! Save it!” commanded Norton, as he came alongside with strong, even strokes.

“Oh dear!” screamed Belle.

She really seemed in distress, but something nerved her to strike out as she never had before, and before she knew it she was swimming.

A figure in red guided to her side–a veritable mermaid. It was the girl from the lighthouse–Rosalie.

“Take it slowly–you are doing lovely!” she commended. “You are swimming!”

“Oh–Oh–I–I’m so glad!” cried Belle. “I’ve always wanted to, but they said I–I would be afraid!”

Rosalie was half supporting her, but really Belle was doing well, and gaining confidence every minute. As the lighthouse maid swam past Cora she managed to whisper:

“Father wants to see you. Come over when you can. I think he has had some word from Aunt Margaret.”

CHAPTER IX
GATHERING CLOUDS

The word which the lighthouse keeper had received was rather indefinite. It was a letter from his sister, but it only confirmed that which he already knew.

“And it doesn’t give me any address where I can write to her!” he complained when Cora had paid him a visit, in response to the invitation given by Rosalie during the swim. “It’s postmarked at–maybe you can see it, my eye-sight isn’t what it used to be,” and he held the envelope out to Cora.

“Edmenton,” she read. “That’s in this State.”

“Yes, but what good would it do to write to her there?” he asked. “She evidently doesn’t want me to know where she is. Just read the letter, Miss.”

It was not long and in effect said that Mrs. Raymond would not come back to her relatives until she had found Nancy Ford, and cleared her name of the suspicion on it.

“Don’t try to find me,” wrote Mrs. Raymond, “as I am going from place to place, working where I can. I am seeking Nancy. I thought she might have gone back where she used to live, but I wrote there and she had not arrived. I must search farther. I am doing fairly well, so don’t worry about me. Some folks have been very kind–especially some young ladies. I will tell you about them when I see you, brother–if I ever do.”

“She must mean you–the time of the fire,” said the light keeper. “I’m sure I’m much obliged to you for befriending my sister.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” protested Cora. “I wish we could have done more. I am sure we could have, had she not gone off in such a hurry. But we can’t blame her, for she was very nervous and excited.”

“Poor Margaret,” murmured Mr. Haley. “She was always that way. She tells me not to worry–but I can’t help it.”

“I suppose not,” agreed Cora. “You might try writing to Edmenton. The postmaster there might give you a clue, or tell you some one who could give information.”

“I’ll do it!” exclaimed the keeper of the light. “It will give me something to do, anyhow,” and he set to the task.

Cora had called at the light alone, not knowing what the nature of the communication might be that the keeper wished to make to her. It was the day after Belle had bravely struck out for herself in the water.

Cora said good-bye to Rosalie, who was busy about her household duties, and waved to little Dick, who was playing on the beach. Then, getting into the Pet in which she had come to the lighthouse float, Cora turned the bow toward the little dock at the foot of the slope on which the bungalows were perched.

“Well, you were gone long enough!” complained Jack when she got back. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What for?” she asked. “Has anything happened?”

“Nothing except that we fellows have heard of a motor boat we can hire cheap for the season, and we want to run over and look at it. The fellow who has it is on the other side of the Cove. Can I take the Pet?”

“Certainly, Jack. We girls are going to the life-saving station, anyhow. You’ll be back before lunch; won’t you?”

“I should guess yes!” exclaimed Walter, who had come up. “We wouldn’t miss our rations for anything.”

Jack and his chums were soon speeding across the bay. There was quite a sea on, for the wind was rising, and there seemed to be indications of a storm. But a number of boats were out on the water, and the Pet was a staunch craft. Also, Jack and the other boys were able to manage her, and all were excellent swimmers.

Cora and the girls went on to the life-saving station not far from their bungalow. They were much interested in the method of launching the boat, and the captain explained how it would right itself if capsized, and also bail out the water that entered in a storm.

“What do you do when you can’t launch a boat?” asked Belle.

“Use the breeches buoy,” answered the grizzled old salt. He showed how by means of a mortar a line was fired aboard the wreck, and how, by a sort of pulley arrangement, the persons in danger could, one at a time, be pulled ashore, sitting in the “breeches buoy.”

“It’s just like some of those apartment house clothes lines on high poles,” said Bess; “isn’t it?”

“I never heard it called that afore,” remarked the captain of the coast guard, “but I s’pose you could call it that if you was a mind to. If you’ll stay around a bit you’ll see our drill.”

The girls were delighted, and eagerly watched while the mortar was fired, the cylindrical shot carrying the line out to an imaginary wreck. Then one man played the part of a shipwrecked mariner, and was hauled over the sand, while Cora took several photographs of him.

“We’ve got her!” exclaimed Jack, as the girls returned to the bungalow. “She isn’t much for looks, but she can beat the Pet!”

“Who?” asked Cora, thinking of something else.

“The motor boat we hired. Come on out and we’ll give you a race.”

“Let’s!” exclaimed Belle.

“My, but you’re getting brave!” observed Ed. “The time was when a race frightened you even if you read of it in the papers.”

“I did not!”

“She can swim now,” commented Bess.

Motor maids and motor boys went out on the bay in the two motor boats. The craft Jack and his chums had hired was not very elegant, and she seemed to be rather uncertain about starting, and when she did the engine appeared to be protesting most of the while. But the boat made good time, and though it did not really beat the Pet (much to the disappointment of boastful Jack) it kept well up with Cora’s speedy craft.

For a week or more the young people enjoyed to the utmost the life on the coast. More people came to the little summer resort, and several social affairs were arranged.

There were swimming races, in which the girls and boys participated, even Belle entering in the novice class. But she won no prize, nor did she expect to.

“I just wanted to show Jack Kimball that I didn’t have to wear a life preserver nor be anchored to the shore!” she declared with spirit.

“I humbly beg your pardon!” said Jack, with a bow.

Then there were motor boat races, in which the Pet did herself proud, coming in first in her class. The boys had great hopes of the Duck, as they had re-named the boat they hired, but when they were doing well, and not far from the finish line, with every prospect of winning, something went wrong with the ignition, and they were out of it.

There were affairs on shore too, several dances to which the girls and boys went. Then there was a moving picture performance semi-occasionally, and some other plays. Altogether the summer was a happy one, thus far.

Nothing was heard of Mrs. Raymond, though her brother wrote a number of letters, and of course the missing Nancy Ford was not located. Though Jack and the boys insisted on staring at all the pretty strangers they met, playfully insisting that Nancy might be one of them.

“Of course she’s bound to be good-looking,” said Ed.

“Naturally,” agreed Jack.

“How do you make that out?” Cora wanted to know.

“Everybody named Nancy is good-looking,” asserted Norton, with his lazy drawl.

The girls laughed at this reasoning.

“Let’s go for a long run to-day, Sis!” proposed Jack one morning, when he called at the girls’ bungalow. “We can take our lunch, run around the lighthouse point, into the Cove on the other side, and have a good time. There’s said to be good fishing there, too.”

“I’ll go if the others will,” she agreed, and when she proposed it to them the girls were enthusiastic about it. Soon two merry boatloads of young people were speeding over the sun-lit waters of the Cove.

“We have to go right out on the ocean; don’t we?” asked Belle with a little shiver as she looked ahead at the expanse of blue water.

“Only for a little way,” said Cora. “Just round the lighthouse point. Then we’re in another bay again.”

“Are you afraid?” asked Eline.

“N–no,” said Belle, bravely.

As they went on the sky became overcast, and Cora looked anxiously at them.

“I’m afraid it’s going to storm, Jack,” she said.

“Not a bit of it!” he cried. “I’ll ask this fisherman,” and he did, getting an opinion that there would be no storm that day. Reassured, they went on.

The sea was not a bit rough and even Belle’s fears were quelled. They went past the light, close enough to see Rosalie waving at them. High up in the tower they could note Mr. Haley and his helper cleaning the great lantern and lens.

They reached the other bay in due time, but the gathering clouds grew more menacing, and Cora was for putting back.

“No,” urged Jack. “Let’s stay and eat our lunch. If it gets too rough we can leave our boats here and walk back over the point. It isn’t far.”

So the girls consented. The clouds continued to gather.