The Motor Girls on a Tour

  CHAPTER XV

  ROB ROLAND

  "Cora Kimball!"

  Ed Foster stood up every inch of his height. He was always tall, butnow, facing the girl whose name he had so vehemently spoken, he seemeda veritable giant. Cora wanted to be firm; she meant exactly what shesaid when she declared she would abandon the tour of the motor girls,and go back to Chelton to help Cecilia Thayer out of her difficulty.

  But, after all, Cora was only a girl, and Ed was a great, strongman--he ought to know.

  "If you cannot trust me, Cora, and allow me to help Clip, I reallythink you are not doing justice to Jack's friend."

  Cora laughed a little. Ed put things so nicely. He never presumedupon her own intimacy--it was always just "Jack's friend."

  "Besides," he pressed, seeing, in, Cora's eyes, his advantage, "I feelI can do more alone. I have got to take Hazel back to her brother,then I promise you I shall not rest until I have found Clip, and madesure of her exact situation."

  "Oh, I know, Ed, you will do everything possible. But it seems liketreason for me to go on a pleasure trip and leave two very dear friendsin such trouble. Even Jack may be implicated."

  Ed turned away to hide his own tell-tale face. He knew perfectly wellthat Jack was implicated, knew that Rob Roland had deliberately accusedhim of taking Cecilia Thayer out to the Salvey cottage for the purposeof gaining possession of the promise book. For this very reason Edwanted Cora to go on--to escape, if possible, the anxiety she mustexperience if she should have to know the real story.

  "Well," sighed Cora, "it is getting late. I suppose it will be best,Ed, as you say. Take Hazel back, and find Clip. Have her 'phone me atBreakwater, tomorrow."

  "That's the girl!" exclaimed Ed, taking both her hands in his ownstrong clasp. "See, the girls are looking at us. They think you haveaccepted me."

  "I have," she answered, "accepted you, and your terms. Good luck, Ed.It is so nice for Jack to have such a good friend."

  Hazel was soon tucked in the little runabout, the detective going on inanother car that was sent out to him in answer to his call over thetelephone.

  "Is your premonition all fulfilled, Cora?" asked Daisy, her voice farfrom merry. "I suppose you were 'premonited' that Hazel should go offlike that."

  "If we keep on losing," said Gertrude, "we will soon all fit in theWhirlwind."

  Cora stood gazing after the runabout--Jack's car. Hazel's eyes hadburned their look upon Cora's face--those deep, violet eyes always seemlike live volcanoes, thought Cora.

  And Ed--his eyes had been searching, his look--well, it was convincing,that is all Cora would admit even to her own heart.

  She turned finally to those on the porch.

  "Well," exclaimed Belle, the sentimental one, "who is star-gazing, now?Cora, what did you forget in that runaway car?"

  Cora smiled. She had been remiss, and she owed it to the girls to seethat their trip was a success. She would atone now.

  "Tillie," she said suddenly, "couldn't you and Adele shut up shop for aweek and come with us? You have been working hard all summer, and youhave made up the required pennies. Now, don't you think it would beperfectly splendid to take the run with us?"

  Every one instantly agreed that this would be the very thing, and inspite of the hesitation of Adele and Tillie, who argued that it mightnot be agreeable to bring strangers into the homes where others hadbeen expected, it was finally settled that the party should wait untilthe next morning, when the tea-house girls would be ready to start offwith them.

  Nor were the arrangements without a certain happy possibility--therewere two other girls waiting to take up that same little Grotto--toearn college money, as had Tillie and Adele.

  "Rena and Margaret will be here first thing in the morning," announcedAdele, after her telephone talk with Rena, "and they are perfectlydelighted. Oh, isn't it just splendid!"

  Then Cora had messages to send. She called up Jack, but only got themaid in answer. She called up Walter, and he also was out. Finally shecalled up Ed. She waited until she felt he would be at his dinnerquarters, and she was not disappointed in getting his own voice inreply.

  He told her that everything was all right--that Clip was with littleWren, who had been very ill since the loss of her book, and that PaulHastings was no worse. This last Cora considered evasive, but had tobe content, for Ed would give no more definite information.

  Such demands as were made upon that little tea-house telephone thatevening! Every one of the girls called up her own home, besidescalling up many relatives at the other end of the line, those with whomthe tourists expected to visit during the trip.

  The Grotto was well situated for business, being about half way betweentwo country seats, and the same distance between two large cities.

  "We will close exactly at sundown to-night," said Adele, when a ladyfrom Bentley, who stopped every evening for a cup of tea on her wayfrom the village, had been served.

  "Do let me keep shop for a while," begged Cora. "I would just love tobe in real business. Mother declares I have a bent for trade. Let metry, Tillie, while you and Adele go over to the cottage and get yourthings together."

  Thus it was that one hour later Cora Kimball was left the solepossessor of the Grotto; every other motor girl managed to either gofor a walk, or go with some one who wanted to take a walk, but Cora wasglad--she felt the need of rest which only solitude can give.

  She sat on the porch; the gentle evening breeze made incense throughthe honeysuckle. It was delightfully resting; she could hear thevoices of the girls in the meadow, after cowslips, buttercups, daisiesand clover. They would fetch back a huge bunch, Cora knew, and theywould discard them at the steps of the Grotto, as most girls do--runwild for wild flowers, then toss them away when the run is over.

  "I hardly think I shall have any business," thought Cora, "although Iwould just love to wait on somebody."

  The rumble of an approaching automobile caught her ear.

  "There!" she thought; "the driver of that car may want a sip of Russiantea--I am glad it is not Turkish--that the girls serve here."

  The car was almost up to the sycamore tree, just at the side of theGrotto.

  Yes, the driver was stopping.

  Cora rocked nervously in the wicker chair.

  Who would it be? The girls should not have gone so far away--

  A young man alighted from the runabout. He stepped briskly up to theporch.

  It was Rob Roland.

  "Well!" he exclaimed, plainly as surprised to see Cora as she was tosee him. "If this isn't luck! Miss Kimball!"

  Quick and keen as was his glance, making sure that Cora was alone, herown sharp wits were able to follow his.

  "Yes," she replied indifferently, "the girls have closed up thetea-room, and are just out in the meadow. I felt more like sittinghere."

  He drew up a chair and sat down uninvited. Cora never did like RobRoland, now she disliked him.

  "You are the very person I am most anxious to talk to," he began, "andthis is an excellent opportunity."

  "About what, pray?" asked Cora. "I must go with the girls very soon."

  "Oh, no, you must not," he replied, and, handsome though he was, therewas that in his manner that deepened the very lines nature had done herbest with, and his eyes were merely smoldering depths.

  Cora felt she should not betray the least nervousness, for, though RobRoland was known to be a gentleman, he might take advantage of herhelplessness to gain from her some information. Ed had warned her tobeware of him.

  "Of course you know all about Cissy Thayer," he began. Cora resentedhis insolence, but dared not show it. "You know how she has beengetting around my little cousin, the cripple."

  Cora glared at him. She felt that his cowardly attack was simply adisplay of weakness, and she knew a coward is easily overcome. Shedeliberately drew her chair closer to him.

  "Rob Roland," she said calmly, "my friend, Miss Thayer, is not only alady, but she is also
a student of human ills. She has been interestedin little Wren that she might be cured. It appears that some of herrelatives consider her incurable."

  "Cured!" he sneered. "That misfit made right! Why, she has only a fewmonths to live. Your friend is very foolish. She should put herenergy on something worth while. And she should be careful how shehandles their property. That scrapbook, for instance."

  "How dare you, Rob Roland!" exclaimed Cora. "Miss Thayer says thechild has been ill-treated through alleged treatment, and it appearsthe man who has been treating her was paid by your father."

  "Oh, my!" The fellow sank deeper into his linen coat. "I had no ideaof your dramatic powers, Miss Kimball. I beg a thousand pardons. Inever dreamed that the Thayer girl was so close to you. In fact, Irather thought you merely took her up out of charity. Every one inChelton knows that the Thayers are just poor working-people."

  That was too much for Cora. She stepped to the door of the tea-roomwith dismissal in her manner. He knew she intended him to leave atonce.

  "But what I want to know," he said, deliberately following her, "isjust who this Thayer girl is. It is important that we should know, togo on with the--"

  "We!" interrupted Cora. "Pray, who are 'we'?"

  "Why, my father's firm, the lawyers, you know," he stammered. "Someday, Miss Kimball, I expect to represent the firm of Roland, Reed &Company."

  Cora turned and looked at him. It was on that very spot that she hadturned to Ed--Ed was so like this young man, the same dark, handsomeyouth, and just about his age.

  But Ed was, after all, so different--so very different.

  Cora was gaining time as she strove to hold him by her magnetic glance.Any youth would accept it; he did not despise it.

  "Mr. Roland," she said, in her own inimitable velvet tones, "you aremaking a very great mistake. If you really believe that Cecilia Thayerhad anything to do with the loss of that child's book, you are wrong;if you think she had any other than humane motives in visiting thechild, you are wrong again. Cecilia Thayer--"

  "Oh, now come, Cora," he interrupted. "You don't mind me calling youCora? I know the whole scheme. Your brother Jack is--well, he isquite clever, but not clever enough to cover up his tracks." He graspedCora's arm and actually dragged her to him. "Don't you know that CissyThayer and Jack Kimball are suspected of abduction? That Wren Salveyhas been stolen-stolen, do you hear?"