CHAPTER XVII
JOE BARNES AGAIN
"Well, we've got to do something. There's no use sitting around lookingat each other!"
The girls started and looked reproachfully at Mollie.
It was several days after the telegram had come which had so upset themand their plans, and they were sitting dejectedly on the sand at thefoot of the bluff trying to read. The attempt had proved a failure,however, and one after another the books had dropped to their laps whilethey stared disconsolately out over the water.
"What would you suggest?" asked Grace listlessly, in response toMollie's statement.
"Can't we go in swimming again?" asked Amy mildly.
"No!" Mollie was very positive. "The boy will be coming with theprovisions and letters in a little while, and there may be a telegram orsomething from mother. If there isn't pretty soon, I'll go mad."
"Let's take a walk then," suggested Betty.
But again Mollie would have none of it.
"Too warm," she said.
"Well, I thought you were the one who wanted to do something," saidGrace, getting up and shaking the sand from her dress. "I guess thetrouble is," she added, "that you don't know what you want."
"Yes I do," said Mollie, while the tears rose to her eyes and she shookthem away impatiently. "Only the one thing I want more than anythingelse I can't get."
"Maybe you forget," said Grace, while her own voice trembled a little,"that I'm very nearly in the same fix."
"No, we don't," cried Betty quickly. "But the only way we can hope tobear the horrible things that are happening to us is to get busy atsomething and try to occupy our minds."
"It's all very well for you to talk," Mollie retorted, in her nervousstate saying something she never would have thought of saying undernormal conditions, "but nothing terrible has happened to you yet. Waittill it does. Then maybe it won't be so easy to get your mind off it."
The thoughtless speech stung, and Betty turned away to hide the hurt inher eyes.
"Perhaps you're right," she said quietly. "Nothing very terrible hashappened to me yet, personally. But perhaps you forget that we girlsalways share each other's troubles--"
But Mollie would not let her finish. She was down on her knees besideher chum, penitent arms about her shoulders and was pouring out anapology.
"I ought to be tarred and feathered," she cried breathlessly. "I don'tknow what made me say such a thing, Honey."
"I know," said Betty gently, "and that's why it didn't go verydeep--what you said."
"You're a darling!" cried Mollie. She gave the Little Captain anotherbear's hug, then sat down in the sand again with her arms clasped abouther knees. "It's this everlasting uncertainty and the feeling ofhelplessness that gets on one's nerves so. I always did hate to wait foranything--especially with my imagination."
"What's that got to do with it?" asked Amy, surprised.
"Why, it--the imagination, I mean--just goes running around in circles,thinking up all the horrible things that might have happened until Ialmost go crazy. If I only didn't have to think!"
"You never used to have any trouble that way," said Grace, with a weakattempt at a joke that ended in dismal failure.
"Isn't that the boy with the mail?" asked Betty after a minute, as therumble of an antiquated vehicle and a masculine voice addressing in nouncertain tones a pair of invisible mules came to their ears. "Perhapshe's bringing good news to us. Come on, we'll meet him half way."
Relieved at the prospect of action, the girls sprang to their feet,dusted off the clinging sand, and scrambled up the bluff. A minute moreand they were running down the hill pell mell toward the oncoming team.
They had scarcely reached the bottom of the hill when the long-eared andlong-suffering animals rounded a turn in the road and ambled slowlytoward them.
The driver, the same gauky, red-headed country lad who had brought themtheir trunks, drew rein as the fleet-footed girls reached him and sweptoff his crownless hat with a gallantry that left nothing to be desired.
"I'm bringing your provisions," he began, adding loquaciously, for heloved to talk and seldom got the opportunity: "Sorry I couldn't get 'emto you yesterday, but Abe up to the store took sick and he says to me,'Jake,' he says, 'guess mebbe you'll have to be storekeeper an' deliveryboy both to-day. Shake a leg,' he says, 'an' I might mebbe give you adollar extry. You never can't tell,' he says. He's that generous like,Abe is," the boy shook his head sadly at the thought of Abe'sgenerosity, "that he'd give a whole chicken to a kid dyin' of hunger,pervided he knowed the chicken had the pip."
The girls chuckled at this last sentence, uttered with a sort offerocious sarcasm, even though they had been standing on one foot withimpatience during the rest of his long speech.
Now, seeing that he was about to begin again, Betty cut in quickly.
"It didn't bother us a bit, you're not coming yesterday," she said,adding, as she leaned forward eagerly: "What we do want to know is--didyou bring any mail?"
"Sure," he said, good-naturedly, reaching behind him for a small packageof letters which Betty took eagerly. "An' there was a telegram too, cameyesterday--"
"Yesterday!" Mollie interrupted with a groan. "And I'm just getting itto-day!"
"But I was telling you," he started all over again patiently, "as howAbe took sick and says to me: 'Jake--'"
"Yes, yes, we know," interrupted Mollie, reaching impatiently for thecrumpled yellow envelope which he took from his pocket, smoothed outcarefully, and handed to her with maddening deliberation. "Oh, ifanything terrible has happened I'll never forgive myself for not goingto the station yesterday!"
"But it was raining so hard, and we expected the boy any minute." Amythus tried to console her but it is doubtful if Mollie even heard her.She had torn open the envelope and was devouring the message whole whilethe girls looked at her anxiously.
The red-headed orator, seeing that his presence was no longer in demand,clucked to his team and jogged off reluctantly. A telegram is rather ararity in Bluff Point and they might have taken pity on a fellow andgiven him at least a hint of its contents. But there, he didn't want toknow anyway--wouldn't if he could! Still, these out-landers were mightymean, close-mouthed folks!
"Nothing," said Mollie, in response to the unspoken question of thegirls. "They haven't found a trace of either of them yet, but the policeare confident that it is a case of kidnapping and that they will be ableto round up the criminals in a short time. Poor little Dodo! Poor littlePaul! If nothing worse happens to them they will be scared to death. Oh,if I could only get hold of those kidnappers I'd--I'd kill 'em!" Sheclenched her hands passionately and her lips shut in a straight, grimlittle line.
"I guess we'd all be glad to," said mild little Amy, with a look in hereyes that showed she meant it.
As they started back down the road Betty suddenly remembered the packetof letters in her hands. The excitement about the telegram had put themcompletely out of her mind.
"To think I could forget letters!" she marveled, as she distributed themto their rightful owners. "Here's one for you, Amy, and two for you,Grace. One for Mrs. Ford and one for Mollie and--and--two for me--"
She looked so surprised that they paused in the act of opening their ownletters to look at her.
"What's the matter?" Grace asked.
"Why here's one addressed to me in a perfectly strange hand," sheanswered, turning the letter over and over in her hand. "I can'timagine--"
"What's the postmark?" asked Amy.
Betty looked and then colored prettily as she realized who her unknowncorrespondent was.
"Why--why," she stammered, amazed at her own confusion, "it's sent fromBensington, but--"
"Bensington!" Grace echoed, then her eyes twinkled as the truth came toher. "So it's as bad as that, is it?"
"I don't know what you mean," said Betty, trying to look dignified andfailing utterly, while Mollie and Amy continued to stare theiramazement. They had forgotten completely that night spent under t
hehospitable roof of Mrs. Barnes, and even her son's engaging personalityhad faded from their minds. There had been so many things to think aboutand worry about. So now they both said together:
"What in the world are you two talking of?"
"Do you mean to say you really don't know?" queried Grace in a superiortone. "Have you so soon forgotten our knight of the wayside, JoeBarnes?"
"Joe Barnes," they repeated weakly, then turned their astonished gaze onBetty.
"Well, I can't help it," retorted Betty, feeling vaguely the need ofdefense. "I didn't ask him to."
"But how did he get your address?" asked Mollie, still staring. "Whogave it to him?"
"I told him where we were going," cried Betty desperately, driven into acorner. "But I had no idea he was going to write to me until--until--"hesitating as a picture of Joe Barnes, standing beside her car andasking if he might tell her "how things were with him" came vividlybefore her eyes.
"Yes. Until?" they baited her, forgetting for a moment the dark shadowshanging over them in the fun of this unexpected discovery.
"Until the morning we came away," Betty answered, seeing that she couldnot get away from these pitiless inquisitors until she had satisfiedtheir curiosity.
"Did he ask to write to you then?" probed Mollie relentlessly.
"I don't see what right--" Betty was beginning spiritedly when shecaught Mollie's eye and ended in a little helpless laugh. "I supposeI'll have to tell you all about it or you'll turn a simple littlemolehill into a mountain."
"Quite right," said Grace cheerfully, and even Betty had to laugh ather.
"Make a clean breast of it," ordered Mollie.
"But there really isn't anything to make a clean breast of," protestedBetty. "He simply asked me if he might write and tell me how he--howhe--"
"How he what?" they queried.
"But I don't know whether I ought to tell you about that or not." Bettywas really in earnest. "You see, what he told me was sort of inconfidence."
"In confidence!" repeated Grace, adding wickedly: "Now we know it's aserious case."
"Nonsense," said Betty, almost crossly. "He simply said he hadn't beenallowed to get into the army because of ill health, but now that hefelt well again he was going to try once more. It was that he wanted towrite and tell me about. And because I was really interested, I said hemight. That's all."
"How romantic!" cried Mollie irrepressibly. "For goodness sake, hurry upand read it, Betty, and relieve our curiosity."
"I'll read it," said Betty firmly, "when I get good and ready, and notone minute before!"