The Outdoor Girls in a Motor Car/Chapter 11
CHAPTER XI
A TRACE OF THE GIRL
"When are you coming back for us?"
"Why don't you take us with you? You may need us to help put on a tire."
"They'll send for us in a day or so!"
Thus called Will, Frank and Allen, who had assembled at Mollie's house to watch their girl friends start on the auto tour.
"If we need you we'll send for you," promised Mollie, as she let slip the clutch pedal. "But I don't believe we shall."
"What—need us—or send for us?" asked Allen, with a laugh. "That is an ambiguous statement."
"I'm not on the witness stand!" retorted Mollie to the young law student.
"Now do be careful; won't you, girls?" pleaded Cousin Jane, a trifle nervously, as the car gathered speed.
"Oh, we're always careful," said Mollie. "Don't fuss, Cousin Jane, or you won't have a good time." Mollie was too kind to add that neither would her friends have much pleasure, and perhaps Mrs. Mackson realized this, for, though she would clutch nervously at the side of the seat whenever the car jolted or lurched, she said nothing more in the way of caution.
"Brin us some tandy!" called Dodo after the retreating auto.
"Brin 'ots of it!" added Paul.
"Your true disciples, Grace," remarked Amy.
"You can't make me angry," said Grace in cool tones, as she munched a chocolate.
"What's this?" asked Amy, as she felt some long, round, hard object on the floor of the tonneau, amid many others of various sizes and shapes. "It feels like a—bomb."
"It's my bottle," said Grace, with an assumption of dignity. "Leave it alone, please."
"Your bottle?" asked Betty, curiously, turning around.
"Yes. I filled it with cold chocolate—it's a vacuum bottle, you know—and will keep its contents cold a long time. I thought we might be thirsty."
"As if we wouldn't pass a drug store, or some place where we could get a drink," objected Mollie.
"Oh, well, you'll want some sooner or later," predicted Grace. "Those chicken sandwiches are very salty, and the olives"
"They always make me want a drink," said Amy. "I'm real glad you brought it, Grace. You and I love each other; don't we?"
"Cupboard love!" scoffed Mollie. "Never mind, Grace, we'll forgive you."
The boys waved their final farewells, the twins joining in, and some of the relatives of the girls, who had gathered to see them off, shook handkerchiefs or hands.
"Under way at last!" exclaimed Betty, as the car gathered speed. "What did you say our stopping place would be for to-night, Mollie?"
"Freedenburg. There's a nice home-like hotel there, and we can get adjoining rooms. I wrote on and engaged them last week."
"That will be nice. Oh, isn't it glorious!"
They were on the main street of Deepdale now, having to pass through the town to get to the road that led to Freedenburg, which was about seventy-five miles away. They planned to make the town by night.
The main street had been sprinkled to lay the dust, and there were little puddles of water here and there. It was impossible to avoid all of them, and Mollie went into a big one at a crossing. The big-tired wheel threw some muddy spray and it went far enough to land on the highly-polished shoes of a youth who had paused to let the car pass.
"I beg your pardon!" called out Mollie, for she was going very slowly.
"Well, of all the careless" began the youth in angry tones.
"Oh, it's Percy Falconer!" gasped Grace. "See Betty."
"I don't want to see!" she answered sharply.
Percy heard his name, and his manner changed as he recognized the girls.
"I beg your pardon!" he cried, as though the accident had been his fault. "It doesn't matter in the least. I vas going to get another shine, anyhow. I wish"
But his further words were lost as the car moved on.
"That was nice of him," said Mollie. "I did spoil his polish, but when he saw Betty he was as nice as pie, though he looked as if he'd like to eat me up a moment before. Betty, you are to be congratulated."
"Don't speak to me of him. I—I"
"Count ten, slowly," spoke Amy in such mirth-provoking tones that they all laughed. Percy gazed blankly after the retreating car, and then made his way to a boot-blacking stand.
The girls were soon outside the town, bowling along a pleasant country road. The day was perfect, and, as Grace said, they could not have had a better one for their start had it been "made to order." They had plenty of lunch with them, and planned to stop in some convenient spot at noon and eat.
"Oh, I forgot those cheese-crackers!" suddenly cried Betty, when they had gone several miles. "I had them on the hall table, and I'm sure I forgot to put them in."
"Look and see," suggested Mollie.
"No, they're not here," went on Betty, regretfully, after a search. "We're all so fond of them."
"Mr. Lagg keeps them," suggested Grace. "It wouldn't be much out of our way to go to his store."
"We will!" decided Mollie, and she made a turn at the next crossing. Mr. Lagg was glad to see them, as he always was. He bowed and smiled as he came out to the car.
"Ladies, you have come, I see,
To say you'll lay that ghost for me.
"At least I hope so," went on the poetical grocer, with a laugh. "Say you'll undertake that job," he pleaded. "I've tried to get those doctors to take the place, ghost and all, but they won't, and I'll have it on my hands if I don't look out."
"We can't promise," spoke Mollie. "Maybe the boys—Grace's brother and his chums—will undertake it, Mr. Lagg. If they don't, when we come back from our tour, we'll consider it once more."
"Well, I'll hold you to that!" he declared. "This is getting serious with me."
"Have the doctors made any other move?" asked Betty.
"No, not yet. They asked me if I could guarantee that there would be no queer disturbances, and of course I couldn't so they said they'd have to wait. But they're dickering for another place, and may take it. I wish there was no such things as ghosts."
"There aren't!" declared Mollie, decidedly.
"Then how do you account for what happened in the old mansion?" asked Mr. Lagg.
"Imagination," said Betty.
The storekeeper shook his head.
"A fellow like Pete Skillinger, or some of the fishermen around here, might imagine," he admitted, "but not those scientific doctors. They certainly saw, and heard, something they couldn't explain. They sure did!"
"Did you make any inquiries to be sure they were not doing this themselves?" asked Mollie. "I've heard of such cases."
"No, these doctors are all well-known men, and have good reputations," said Mr. Lagg, with another puzzled shake of his head. "They wouldn't do such a thing. I don't doubt but what this haunting business can be explained; but how? That's the question. How? I can't solve it—I haven't time—daren't leave my store. Now you girls are smart and brave. The ghost of Elm Island didn't bother you, so why should this one?"
"Oh, well, we'll think about it," promised Mollie. "Now what we most need are cheese crackers—and not ghostly ones, either, Mr. Lagg."
"You shall have the best in stock."
Then, his mind being turned in another channel he recited this:
"Cheese crackers I have, large and small
Enough for one—enough for all.
I've sardines and pickles too,
My aim is always to please you."
"And you generally hit what you aim at," laughed Grace. "I think I'll have a few more chocolates," she added, as she inspected her box. "These won't last all day, and I know yours are good, Mr. Lagg."
"I'll bring them out," he said, as he hurried into the store.
The girls bought a few other things they found they had overlooked in starting off, and once more they got under way.
"Don't forget the ghost!" pleaded Mr. Lagg, as he waved farewell. "Get rid of it for me."
"Poor old man—he really means it," said Amy, "I wonder what can be in that house?"
"Bats and rats, most likely," said "Cousin Jane," as they all called her. "Bats and rats!"
"Worse than spooks—when they get in your hair," spoke Mollie. "Give me a nice clean ghost, that waltzes around in a two-step. Oh, girls, I hope we can go to a dance of two on our tour."
"Some are planned for us," said Mollie.
They kept on, enjoying the ride to the utmost. Just before noon they got a puncture, and voted not to attend to it until after lunch, which they ate near a road-side spring, under a great oak tree. And then the Fates were kind to them. For, as they were laboriously jacking up the car to take off the tire, a lone chauffeur, in a big car, came along and kindly offered to do the work for them.
The girls gladly accepted, and watched firm carefully, for though they had once or twice before changed a shoe, they were not skillful at it. Mollie offered the man some change, but he declined with a laugh and reddened under his tan.
"Then do have some lunch!" said Betty, understanding his embarrassment.
"And chocolates," added Grace, generously.
"I will," he said. "It's hard work driving a big car like mine—all alone."
"Oh, is it your car?" asked Mollie. "I thought" and as the young man nodded she understood why he had refused the money. He was the owner.
"Oh, girls!" exclaimed Mollie, when he had gone, "and to think that I wanted to pay him—maybe he's a millionaire."
"You meant it all right," said Betty. "And really he looked like a professional chauffeur. He might have taken the money, and let us think so. I read a story once where a man did that, and fell in love with a girl, and"
"Spare us the details," begged Grace.
Again the girls were off, and without further accident, save that when Betty was driving she narrowly missed running over a persistent barking dog. They reached Freedenburg, and went to the hotel, leaving the auto at a public garage near by.
"Oh, for a good bath, and a hot cup of tea!" exclaimed Mollie, for the latter part of the ride had been rather hot and dusty. "Then we'll feel like new girls."
The services of a maid were at their disposal in their rooms, and they were soon making themselves fresh for the dinner that was shortly to be served. As Mollie let down her long hair the maid uttered an exclamation:
"Excuse me, Miss, for remarking it," she said, "but you have lovely hair."
"We all think so," added Betty.
"It isn't so very nice," spoke Mollie. "I am hoping it will get thicker."
"It's lovely!" the maid insisted. "I haven't seen any as nice—not since a strange girl stopped here one night some time ago, and I helped her do hers up. Hers was nearly to the floor when she stood up. And it was just the color of yours. She had a scar on her forehead, I remember—a recent one, and I had to be careful of it as I combed her hair."
"A cut?" asked Betty, looking at her friends curiously.
"Yes, Miss. She said she had fallen out of a tree."
"A tree!" The four girls uttered this together.
"Why, yes," and the maid seemed surprised. "I suppose she was playing—she said she was very fond of sports—and she was just the age to enjoy them."
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Betty eagerly. "Did she have—I mean what was her name—or could you describe her to us? We have a reason for asking."
"Why, I don't recall that she gave me her name," said the maid slowly, "but I can tell you how she looked."
Then, to the surprise of Betty and her chums, the hotel maid gave a good description of the girl they had seen fall out of the tree some time before—the girl who had so strangely disappeared when they went after aid for her.
"It's the same one!" cried Betty, and then she told the maid of the coincidence.