The Motor Girls on Cedar Lake Part 36

"But we have things to take with us," 'and she jumped up so pleased, believing that he had almost, if not entirely, consented to go.

"Where's that rabbit?" asked Jack.

Walter and the girls were coming the other way.

"It's in a mossy bed just back of where Bess stands," said Laurel.

"Then he's the first thing to be packed," said Jack, walking straight for the path where the others stood.

From that time until the Petrel landed at the lower end of Cedar Lake Mr. Starr, the hermit, felt that he was in a dream. At the same time he allowed himself to be guided and managed with the simplicity of a child, for his awakened memory seemed stunned by this new turn of affairs. He was weak, of course, but with all the hands that now crowded around him his every need was well looked after.

"I'll get Dr. Rand," Ed volunteered. "They say he is wonderful on mental cases."

"But he needs rest first," insisted the busy Cora, for she and Laurel had gone directly to the boys' bungalow with Mr. Starr.

Between them all the illness seemed overwhelmed. In fact, the man's eyes, the safest signal of the brain, were as dear as those of the young persons who so eagerly watched his every move.

Dr. Rand came at once. He diagnosed the case as one of mental shock, and called the patient convalescent. A nurse however was called in to hurry the recovery, and this necessitated the renting of another bungalow for the boys.

There had never been more excitement around the wood camp. The boys ran this way and that, each anxious to outdo the other in the accomplishment of something important. Finally Cora suggested that they all go away to make sure that Mr. Starr would have real quiet.

"Can't we go for the papers? To the shack?" Laurel ventured.

"We might," Jack replied. "I see no reason why we should not."

"Let us three go," proposed Cora, "I mean you and Laurel and I, Jack. It might be best not to attract attention."

Once more the Petrel sailed up the lake, this time toward the Everglades. Cora thought of that day when she and Bess dared take the same journey, when the strange man sat at the willowed sh.o.r.e ostensibly making sketches. She thought now that his work then must have been the forging of a letter to hand the poor demented hermit of Fern Island.

"The shack is just over there, Jack," she said, pointing out the willows.

"There's another boat anch.o.r.ed there," Jack said. "It looks like an important craft too."

He had seen it before. It was the very boat in which the detective and the police officer sailed up to the far island the morning they came searching for evidence in the Jones' case.

"The path is narrow," Cora said, "but I happen to know it." She led the way.

"There are men!" exclaimed Laurel as they neared the shack.

Two men were trying to force open the low window. Cora drew back, for one of the men was in uniform.

"I suppose they have not finished the case," Jack ventured, and at that very moment he would have given a great deal to have had his sister and Laurel back at camp.

The men had not yet seen them. They forced open the window, and were now inside.

"Let us turn back," Jack suggested. "They may ask us questions--"

"But the papers," begged Laurel. "They mean so much to father. And what if those men should take them?"

"They will likely take everything they can lay their hands on," Jack answered, "and I suppose it will be best for us to go on."

"Certainly," Cora said, knowing well that it was on her account that Jack hesitated. "They cannot do more than ask questions."

But scarcely had she uttered the words than they saw the two men walk out of the shack, and one of them had the can marked "red paint!"

CHAPTER XXVII

A BOLD RESOLVE

Seeing their precious papers, or the receptacle that was said to contain them, in the hands of the detective, Cora and Laurel both drew back. They could not now demand them, was the thought that flashed to the mind of each, and yet to leave them in possession of the officers, was the very worst thing that could have happened, for there was always the danger of the old story coming up and then the risk to Mr. Starr, after all his years of evading the law!

"They have no right to them," Jack said under his breath.

"Hush!" Cora whispered, "they are going the other way!"

The two men were talking. Suddenly one of them said loudly enough for the listeners to hear:

"It might be dynamite. Not for me! Here goes!" and he carefully set the can down under a bush.

"Yes," said the other man. "You are right. Those two fellows were up to most anything. We will get Mulligan. He could smell dynamite," and with that they turned, took a new path toward the sh.o.r.e, and were soon sailing off in their boat.

For a few moments neither of the three, who were standing there watching, spoke. Then Cora's face brightened.

"They are ours, Laurel's," she said, "and we have a right to take them."

"But the law is queer on such points," Jack argued. "I have known men to be put in jail for what they call interfering with an officer when the officer could not do just what he wanted to with some s.p.u.n.ky citizen. I should not like to touch the can of red paint."

"But my father," said Laurel, in the most pleading of tones. "Think what it means! How we have suffered; and now, when this is at our very hands!"

"But suppose it were something other than the papers," cautioned Jack. "Those men had a pretty bad reputation."

"I will take all the risks," declared Cora, and before Jack could detain her she ran to the bush, pushed it aside, and grasped the can.

Jack hurried to take it from her. "Let me have it, Cora; if there is a risk it must be mine."

"All right, Jack dear," she replied, "I am sure there is nothing in it heavier than papers. Wouldn't you think those men could have guessed that?"

"Perhaps they did not want to," said Jack. "You can never tell what they want or mean. They have a system even the country fellows, and it covers a mult.i.tude of failures." He shook the can, put it to his ear, rolled it a few feet, picked it up again and laughed. "Mr.

Mulligan won't find this can," he said, "Somehow it is attractive, and I am anxious as you girls to see what is in it. If we get in trouble for taking it--well, we'll see," and he led the way down to the Petrel.

On the water they pa.s.sed the police boat, but the can of "red paint," was snugly resting under Laurel's skirts in the bottom of the boat.

"Will you tell your father at once, Laurel?" Cora asked.