AN UNINVITED GUEST
Cora was not visible when the party drove up to the bungalow, for Aunt
Betty and the girls had put her to bed, with strict injunctions that she
should stay there for the rest of the day. She had objected at first, but
at last had yielded. And to tell the truth, she was not sorry to yield to
their gentle compulsion, for although she was little the worse physically
from her adventure, she had been under a terrific nervous strain that had
taxed her heavily.
But she appeared at supper time, fresh and radiant, her eyes sparkling
and her spirits high.
"I declare it's almost worth being lost for the sake of being made so
much of when one gets back," she declared, with a loving look round at
the circle of friends, who could scarcely take their eyes off her.
"Why shouldn't we make much of one who comes to us straight from the
skies?" said Walter.
"There's one less angel up there now," added Paul.
"But don't let me catch you running away again, sis," said Jack, with
mock severity. "We'll forgive you this time, but once is plenty. I don't
know but what I ought to put a ball and chain on you as it is."
"You needn't worry," answered Cora. "I'm cured. I'll stick to the rest of
you now closer than your shadows."
"By the way," remarked Walter, as he passed his plate, "we met an old
friend of yours on our way back from the mill this morning."
"Who was that?" asked Cora with interest.
"Give you three guesses," teased Paul.
She ventured several names and then gave it up.
"It was that dark-skinned gypsy who interfered the other morning, when
you girls were going to have your fortunes told," said Walter.
Cora was all interest in an instant.
"And did you see the girl?" she asked eagerly.
"She wasn't along," replied Paul. "The man was all by his lonesome."
"A regular brigand he was, too," commented Walter. "I'd hate to meet him
at night in a dark alley."
"We tried to talk to him," explained Paul, "but he shut up like a clam.
Pretended he couldn't understand."
"The rest of the gypsies can't be far off," observed Belle.
"Wouldn't it be fine if they camped somewhere in this neighborhood?" said
Bess.
"I wish they would," replied Cora. "I'm crazy to have another talk with
that gypsy girl."
"I'm afraid Joel doesn't share your sentiments," laughed Walter. "To
speak of gypsy to him is like waving a red rag at a bull."
"They're not very likely to settle down here," declared Jack. "They
usually pitch their tents somewhere in the vicinity of a town, so that
they can have plenty of visitors. The nearest place to this spot they'd
be likely to fix on is Wilton. That's quite a good-sized town, and
there's a big summer hotel there. But that's as much as four miles away."
"What's distance to us as long as we have the cars?" said Cora. "For that
matter, it wouldn't be too far to walk. I wish you boys would keep your
eyes and ears open and let us know if you find out anything about them."
They promised readily, but several days passed without any scrap of news
from the wandering tribe.
One other bit of news, however, gave them unqualified pleasure. They
learned from a paper that Jack secured on a trip to a neighboring town
that Miss Moore had safely landed at Governor's Island and had broken all
records for a cross-country flight.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" exclaimed Cora, clapping her hands. "I've been
worrying ever since that morning for fear I'd caused her to lose, and I
know how much her mind was set on winning."
And forthwith she dispatched a telegram, care of the Aero Club, that
read:
"Your grateful passenger sends warmest love and congratulations."
And it may well be guessed that few of the messages that overwhelmed Miss
Moore on the completion of her wonderful feat brought her more real
satisfaction than this.
"I'm pining away for a trip on the lake," announced Belle, one beautiful
morning a few days later.
"Let's picnic up at the farther end of the lake," said Cora. "I noticed
the loveliest spot for an outing the last time we were up there."
"Your wish is our command," said Jack with exaggerated courtesy. "I'd
have suggested it before, if I hadn't thought you girls might feel a wee
bit nervous about the _Water Sprite_ after the narrow escape we had last
time. But we've spent a good deal of time in fixing her up since then,
and now she's perfectly safe."
"We're not a bit afraid," was the unanimous verdict of the girls.
"And let's get a few fish on the way," said Walter. "There's nothing that
tastes better than a fish fry under the trees. And I know a way of
broiling them on oak twigs that will make you think you're eating
ambrosia. I'll be chef and Jack and Paul can clean the fish."
"Such a chance!" exclaimed Paul. "You'll do your share of the cleaning,
and don't you forget it!"
"You'd better catch the fish before you fall to scrapping over them,"
remarked Cora.
"You boys go ahead and get your bait," commanded Belle, "while we get on
our boating suits."
"We fellows seem to be unanimously elected to do all the work," remarked
Jack. "I suppose you girls will want us to put the worms on the hooks for
you, too."
"Likely enough," admitted Bess.
"Worms, little boys?" sniffed Belle.
"Bent pins, too, for hooks," suggested Cora.
"Worms make a perfectly satisfactory bait, and don't you forget it!"
declared Walter.
"Bet the fish swallow those worms so greedily our arms will ache pulling
them in so fast," added Jack.
While the boys prepared the fishing tackle and dug the bait, Aunt Betty
saw to it that an ample lunch was prepared, and by the time the girls
came down, dressed for the trip, everything was in readiness.
They made their way down to the shore of the lake, and a cry of surprise
and delight broke from the lips of the girls when they caught sight of
the motor boat.
For it was a new, a rejuvenated, _Water Sprite_ that met their eyes. She
had been dowdy and disreputable when she had taken them out on the first
trip. But the boys had made several surreptitious trips to the nearest
town, and had come back laden with sundry cans of paint and varnish.
They had worked like troopers, painting the boat from stem to stern,
varnishing the deck and the interior of the cabin, and cleaning every bit
of the brass work until it shone like gold.
The _Water Sprite_ was a perfect picture now, as she floated gracefully
at the end of the little pier, her ivory white coat of paint contrasting
beautifully with the rich brown of the deck tints and her name showing in
gold letters on her stern.
"Isn't she a darling?" exclaimed Bess ecstatically.
"She's a dream!" asseverated Belle.
"So that's what you boys have been up to on these mysterious trips of
yours, is it?" asked Cora, shaking her finger at them.
"Caught with the goods," grinned Jack.
"Guilty, with extenuating circumstances," admitted Walter.
"We throw ourselves on the mercy of the court," laughed Paul.
"You see," explained Jack, "it didn't seem the right thing to us that
such pretty girls should sail in such a shabby boat."
"Well, all I have to say is that you boys are perfect darlings to go to
all this trouble for us," declared Bess emphatically.
"It looks like
"'An ivory shallop, silken-sailed,'"
quoted Belle.
"Except that there are no sails," laughed Cora. "But the ivory part is
all right. Really, girls, it looks almost too pretty to use. Talk about
Cleopatra's barge!"
"There was only one queen on that, while we have three," grinned Walter.
"But come along, girls. I want you to catch those fish, so I can show you
what a peach of a cook I am."
The girls went on board in high glee, Paul cast off the moorings, Jack
started the engine to chugging, and Walter this time took charge of the
wheel.
The _Water Sprite_ darted off proudly, as though conscious she was
looking her best. The boys had not been content with mere decoration, but
had made a thorough job of fixing the hull as well, and this time there
was no danger of wet feet.
They went down the lake some distance, and then Jack stopped the engine,
and the _Water Sprite_ floated about lazily, while they baited the hooks
and threw out the lines.
"I've got a bite," said Jack suddenly.
"Does it hurt?" asked Walter solicitously.
Bess giggled, and the others joined in when Jack hauled up a lot of
dripping weeds.
"Old Izaak Walton had nothing on you as a fisherman," chaffed Paul.
But the laugh was on him a moment later, when a voracious pickerel made
off with his hook and sinker, and he ruefully pulled up his broken line.
Cora was the first to score, landing a big flopping perch to an
accompaniment of little squeals from Bess and Belle.
From that time on the luck was good, and before long they had a number of
perch and pickerel, together with enough bass to supply all they needed
for an abundant dinner.
"I guess we're pretty well fixed now," said Jack, as he eyed the pile of
fish. "What do you say now to hustling along and giving Walter a chance
to make good on that frying proposition? I think he's bragging, if you
ask me."
"You do, eh?" retorted Walter. "If you clean the fish as well as I cook
them there'll be nothing left to ask for."
They started up the boat again, and before long were near the end of the
lake. They went along slowly, trying to find the special place that Cora
had referred to.
"There it is!" she exclaimed at length. "See! Right in that little cove."
She pointed to a little indentation in the shore where the trees had
thinned out so as to leave an open space carpeted with velvety, springing
turf. Near by, a tiny promontory extended into the water, and here it was
deep enough for the _Water Sprite_ to float without touching bottom.
"What a lovely spot!" exclaimed Belle.
"A little bit of Eden," seconded her sister.
"And a dandy place to land," commented Jack. "We can fasten a rope to
that tree and step ashore without having to wade."
The boys helped the girls ashore, and followed them, bringing along their
catch.
While the girls emptied the contents of the lunch basket and spread the
good things about in a shady spot, Walter gathered some wood, dug a hole
in the ground and lighted a roaring fire. As the flames died down he
carefully raked the embers into the hole, until he had a small furnace
that gave forth an intense heat.
Then he prepared a skillet of oak twigs dexterously twisted together, and
was ready. Jack and Paul in the meantime had been cleaning the fish.
"Hurry up, you common laborers," ordered Walter in a lordly tone. "Don't
keep an artist waiting."
A fish-head whizzed past his ear and he hastily sought refuge behind a
tree.
"Bad shooting," he taunted.
"Good enough to make you duck," retorted Jack.
"While these rough-necks are disturbing the peace," drawled Walter, "it
might be a good idea to get some of those blackberries up there. They'll
come in handy for dessert."
He pointed to a group of bushes about a hundred feet distant.
"I'll go," volunteered Belle, rising to her feet. "You girls go on
getting things ready. This lunch basket is empty now and I'll take it
along for the berries."
She started to pick busily, while Walter, taking the fish that had been
cleaned, began to broil them over the fire.
A delicious, tantalizing savor rose from the oak skillets, and promised
to justify all that Walter had claimed for his cooking.
"Hurry up, Belle!" called Cora. "Walter's nearly finished now, and we're
all ravenous."
"I'll be with you in a minute," sang out Belle, "but there's one big bush
here that's just dying to be picked."
She moved toward it, but stopped in fright as she heard a grunt and snort
on the other side of the bush.
The next instant she found herself looking into the eyes of a big black
bear!