BROUGHT TOGETHER
The plan met with the hearty approbation of the girls, and they accepted
it, subject to the approval of the boys.
And when the latter reached Kill Kare and learned what was afoot, they
agreed to it enthusiastically. They all felt toward Higby as they would
toward a particularly noxious reptile. And this latest attempt to make
the victim of his falsehoods a criminal brought their feeling of
detestation to the highest pitch.
"Oh, won't it do me good to get a whack at him!" gloated Jack.
"He'll be as safe with me as if he were on a battlefield," remarked
Walter.
"We'll fix him!" declared Paul.
Nina had been told that Mr. Baxter had overheard the conversation with
Higby, but had been given no hint that the detective was looking for her
to restore her to her home.
At the appointed time on the following day, she met Higby, whose face
lighted up with an evil smile as he saw her appear.
"Thought better of it, did you?" he remarked jeeringly. "I knew mighty
well you would."
"It's vile of you to make me do a thing like this," protested Nina.
"You weren't so particular at Roxbury," he taunted.
"Why do you harp on that?" she cried furiously. "You know I didn't steal
that purse. I believe you did it yourself."
"Suppose I did?" he grinned mockingly, in a way that was itself a half
admission. "I deserve credit for being smart enough to make somebody else
the goat. But let's get down to business. I want you to tell me all about
the way the rooms are laid out and where the cash and jewelry are kept."
She gave him an idea of the plan of the bungalow, and promised to leave a
door open from the back leading into the kitchen. He was to come a little
after midnight.
That afternoon and evening, life took its ordinary course at Kill Kare,
as far as external signs were concerned. They knew that Higby was
probably watching the house from the shelter of the adjoining woods,
ready to take flight at anything which might indicate the betrayal of his
plans.
Not that he anticipated betrayal. He was confident that the deadly fear
that Nina had of jail would keep her his accomplice, even though an
unwilling one. But one could never be too careful when engaged upon such
a venture as his.
He noted the girls sitting on the porch with their sewing, or picking
flowers in the garden, saw the boys go motoring and return, heard the
party singing songs after supper on the steps of the veranda. There was
nothing to excite suspicion in the slightest degree and he exulted as he
thought of the rich haul he expected to make.
His jubilation would have been less keen, however, had he noted the care
with which Joel loaded his favorite revolver and had he seen three men
who slipped into Kill Kare under cover of the darkness.
One of the three was an officer who had been brought over from Milford to
make the expected arrest. The other two were Mr. Morley and Mr. Baxter.
The botanist had been told of the robbery that had been planned, and had
been invited to be "in at the death." But he had not received the
slightest hint of the presence of Nina in the house. The detective did
not care to risk a possible disappointment. Then, too, he had a sense of
the dramatic, and schooled himself to wait.
As for Nina herself, she kept carefully out of view, as she always did
when there were visitors at Kill Kare.
Eleven o'clock was the usual hour of retiring at the bungalow, and no
deviation from the custom occurred on that night. A few minutes after
eleven the lights were out, and Kill Kare seemed to be peacefully
sleeping.
The door at the rear had been left unlocked, as arranged. The members of
the party, all fully dressed, waited in different rooms the outcome of
the drama.
"He'll probably stop in the dining room to look over the silver,"
remarked the officer, Thompson by name, to Mr. Baxter. "Do you think we'd
better nab him then?"
"Don't be in too much of a hurry," advised Baxter. "He'll probably look
for his biggest haul in the sleeping rooms upstairs. Give him plenty of
rope and let him hang himself. Besides, the farther he gets into the
heart of the house, the harder it will be for him to escape in case any
of our plans go wrong."
The girls were seated in the dark in their own rooms, their hearts
beating fast with excitement.
"I suppose we'll be only lookers on," remarked Bess in a low tone. "The
men will do all the work."
"I'm not so sure of that," replied Cora. "We may come in somewhere."
"What was it you put in that cedar chest you're sitting on?" asked Belle
curiously.
"I'll tell you later," replied Cora. "And, girls, stay right where you
are, whatever happens."
In the dark she busied herself with something at the entrance of the
room.
Shortly after midnight, Higby slipped in through the rear door. He had
taken off his shoes and was in his stocking feet.
It was pitch dark within, and he moved with such feline stealthiness that
he had reached and stolen up the stairs before the watchers were sure
that he was not one of themselves.
The jewelry of the girls was the chief object that he had in view, and he
went to their rooms first. But as he stepped inside, he tripped over a
wire that extended from one side of the door to the other, at the height
of a foot, and fell headlong with a crash that jarred the house.
Cora reached into a chest, and clutching an acetylene lamp that was
already lighted, turned its blinding glare right into Higby's eyes.
"Don't dare to move!" she commanded.
Higby, not knowing how many weapons were turned upon him, and unable to
see anything in that pitiless blaze, lay perfectly still. The next
instant he was in the grasp of the men and boys, who handled him none too
gently and jerked him to his feet.
"Trapped by a woman!" he growled, as he saw the wire over which he had
fallen and the lamp that Cora still held.
"You're trapped all right," declared Thompson, as he snapped a pair of
handcuffs on his wrists.
"And in for a good long term in the State Prison," added Mr. Baxter. "We
have you dead to rights, Higby, and you haven't a show in the world. But
you may be able to have some years cut from your term if you help now to
undo a wrong."
"What is it?" muttered Higby, his craven soul clutching at straws.
"That theft at Roxbury that you charged Helen Holman with committing,"
Baxter reminded him. "You stole that purse yourself, didn't you? Speak up
now. Nothing but the truth will help you."
"Yes," admitted Higby, sheepishly.
"I thought as much," remarked Baxter. "Take him away, Thompson."
There was a wild hubbub after the officer had driven away to Milford with
his prisoner. All the boys and girls were laughing and talking at once.
"Who is this Helen Holman you were talking of?" asked Mr. Morley.
A sudden hush fell on Cora and the others, as they listened for Mr.
Baxter's answer.
"A girl that has lately been leading the life of a gypsy," replied Mr.
Baxter. "She's a very interesting character. Miss Kimball," he continued,
turning to Cora, "will you ask Miss Holman to step here for a moment?"
Cora darted into the adjoining room, and returned an instant later
leading Nina.
She and Mr. Morley looked casually at each other. A startled look leaped
into the eyes of each. There was a gasping cry, and the next instant she
was in his arms, sobbing as though her heart would break, while he held
her tight as though he never intended to let her go.
"Alice!"
"Uncle!"
The girls were sobbing openly, while Mr. Baxter blew his nose vigorously,
and even the eyes of the rollicking boys were momentarily dimmed.
Mutual explanations followed, together with mutual requests for
forgiveness. Both had reaped the bitter fruit of hasty tempers, and had
been made to realize during their separation how really dear they were to
each other. The reconciliation was complete, and the Motor Girls were
delighted beyond measure at the part they had played in bringing it
about.
During the remainder of her stay at Kill Kare, Alice Morley grew more and
more deeply attached to the girls to whom she owed so much, and when she
finally went back with her uncle to Saxton, it was with the promise that
she would soon make a long visit to them at their homes in Chelton.
"Dear old Chelton!" remarked Belle, as, shortly after the departure of
Alice, they themselves turned their faces homeward. "How glad I'll be to
get back."
"Yes," agreed Cora. "But you must admit that we've never spent such a
glorious outing as this one at Camp Kill Kare."
And with this delightful memory as their cherished possession, we bid
farewell to the Motor Girls.
THE END
Transcriber's Notes
--Silently corrected several palpable typos in spelling and punctuation