SUNSET'S INSPIRATIONS
"Now, you see, we will have more trouble to reach her. That man knew
we were in the cave, and he also knew Mary and old Reda were behind the
next rock. He must have followed us all the way down the hill!" This
was Cleo's almost breathless pronouncement, made directly she and Grace
reached the porch of the cottage. Lalia had declined their invitation
to rest a few minutes before getting into more comfortable attire, so
she was not in the conference.
"You could see he was related to the old woman," replied Grace. "His
eyes and that kinky hair made him look so much like her."
"They are surely natives of the same country," commented Cleo, "but
they may not be related to each other. Oh, I'm so disappointed; I felt
sure we could get to the girl's house this afternoon. And did you hear
her courage voiced in that decided threat? That she would go away, and
that it, whatever it was, is lost forever? Could they be holding Mary
for ransom?"
"Kidnapped, do you mean?" gasped Grace.
"I don't know what I do mean, but I sort of wish Uncle Guy were home.
If we run into too much danger he would surely know how to rescue us,"
concluded Cleo.
"Don't let's tell Madaline. She might be too nervous, and I guess she
and Jennie had a fine time planting their lettuce after the shower,"
said Grace quietly.
"Oh, did you get caught in the shower?" anxiously asked Madaline with
trowel in hand, and beautifully decked out in one of Mrs. Dunbar's
artist's smocks, somewhat bedaubed with paint. "We were alarmed. The
lightning struck a tree over in the orchard."
"But it couldn't strike us, for we were buried in a beautiful cave, and
if we had only known what a perfectly fine little bandit hang-out we
were going to discover, we would have brought our hike packs along.
Sorry you missed it all, Madie," said Cleo affectionately.
"But we had a visitor," announced Madaline. "He came just after you
left, and he asked so many questions, Jennie sent me out with an excuse
to get Michael. He said he was looking for a place to board, but we
knew better. He was looking for information," she declared. "We
transplanted a whole bed of tomatoes though. Don't I bear evidence of
the applied arts in my smock and with the aroma of the green vines
proclaiming me--the man with the rake?" she finished grandly.
"A lovely little speech, Madaline. You are a very artistic farmer,"
Cleo complimented. "And I hope your tomatoes tomate beautifully. But
tell us about your visitor?"
"Oh, he wore a yellow duster, like an automobile coat and----"
"That's the man we saw!" Grace interrupted, forgetting in her
excitement the plan of keeping their adventure from Madaline.
"Yes, he went toward Second Mountain," continued Madaline,
unsuspiciously, "and Jennie told Michael to be sure and let Shep loose,
so he would know we had a big dog around. Jennie doesn't like Shep to
run through her garden, of course, but she said it would be a good
thing to have that man know we were guarded."
"Yes," answered Cleo, exchanging glances with Grace. "It's a good
thing to have a dog in a big forest like this. Aunt Audrey home?"
"Nope," replied Madaline. "Come on, let's dress, Jennie promised to go
to the Lake with us after dinner."
"Oh, goody, goody," exclaimed Cleo. "Come on, Grace. I feel like an
escaped eel in these togs. We had a good time in our old scout
uniforms, didn't we? Nothing like it in a good drenching downpour,"
and she spread out her khaki skirt at each hip in imitation pannier
effect, although the effect was rather slippery, to say the least.
It was while Madaline was washing, Cleo and Grace made opportunity to
exchange opinions on the strange visitor.
"Do you suppose he is following us?" asked Grace. "If so, don't you
think we had better tell Jennie?"
"I shouldn't like to," demurred Cleo, "because you know that would
surely put the kibosh on our hikes. If Aunt Audrey were home I feel
certain she would allow us our liberty, conditionally, of course.
Pshaw! I wish the horrid man had kept away. Isn't it mean!"
Madaline appeared, rosy and shining, from the lavatory; evidently her
gardening experience had been both enjoyable and profitable.
Garbed in pretty dainty frocks, and carrying gorgeously brilliant
sweaters, the trio, with Jennie as chaperon, raced off to the lake
directly after dinner. The evening was delightfully clear and cool
after the shower, and the promise of a row out through the willow-bound
water was sufficient lure to banish from their minds all thoughts of
the suspicious man and the threatening old woman.
A group of boys down on the little pavilion was found to include Andy
and Mally Mack, as well as Jack Hagan, and very generously they offered
to give the girls a boat ride.
"Anything from a tug to a canoe!" proffered Andy, "and you may row,
sail or paddle."
"That's lovely," acknowledged Cleo, "but we promised to take a big flat
boat so Jennie may come this time," she smiled gratefully. "We would
love a canoe ride, some evening when Aunt Audrey is home."
Doing the next best thing to taking part in the sail, that of providing
the big flat bottom boat for the party, the boys promptly rowed up to
the clear end of the float and assisted Jennie to embark. Of course
the girls hopped in, disdaining so much as the kind hand Andy offered
them, and with a united push they were sent out into the pool, that now
in sunset looked like "a rummage sail [Transcriber's note: sale?] in a
paint shop," as Grace described the brilliantly lighted waters.
Regretful glances were sent after that "big flat bottom boat," but
women like Jennie had to be humored, and even good natured boys
realized this.
Grace and Cleo rowed up the stream. Many pleasure craft were afloat,
and the visitors already knew a number of Bellaire girls and boys who
called pleasant greetings.
The lake, wide at the basin, narrowed off into a tiny stream as it
followed the course, tracing its origin in the mountain springs.
Willows thick as a tasseled hedge hid the banks, and teased the boat as
the girls ducked and dipped their way, determined to go to the end, or
till they touched bottom.
"It will be almost dark in that dense thicket," Jennie warned them,
"and you know we are a good mile from nowhere."
"Oh, just a little farther," begged Cleo; "we want to say we went to
the very end."
"Very well," agreed Jennie, who was plainly enjoying the delightful
sail in the colorful twilight.
"Look!" exclaimed Grace suddenly. "There's someone in wading! Oh!
see, it's our little Mary."
"Sure enough," followed Cleo. "How can she be away down here so late?
Let's call."
"No, wait till we are a little nearer," suggested Grace, thinking
quickly, a call meant for Mary might also be heard by someone else.
"We can row almost up to her."
Pulling their oars with a firm stroke it took but a few minutes to come
within speaking distance of the girl, who now, seeing the approaching
boat, was standing knee deep in a golden path of water.
"Who is she?" asked Jennie, gazing intently at the odd figure, for as
ever Mary wore white, and her heavy braids fell into the big pocket
made of her up-turned skirt. She looked like some elfin sprite painted
in pastels, with all the soft greens of foliage, and the wonderfully
mellow tints of crimsoned gold shed from the sunset, surrounding the
picture and forming an inimitable background.
"Oh, that's our little friend Mary," Cleo replied to Jennie's question.
"She's lovely, and Aunt Audrey knows about her." This last of course
was said to assure Jennie of the propriety of her charges making
friends with the girl in wading.
"Mary! Mary!" called Grace. "Come on for a sail! We have room!"
It was typical of Grace to do a thing like that--to call out the
invitation without consulting anyone, or considering possible
consequences.
"Hello, girls!" came back Mary's response. "I'd love to go--if----"
As Cleo at least expected, there was someone in the background watching
Mary, but the assurance in Mary's voice, that of a new note of courage,
further emboldened Cleo. "Oh come on, Mary," she urged. "We will just
row you around here if you like. Jump in!" Cleo insisted, while Mary,
now clinging to the side of the boat with one hand, depended on the
other to keep her light skirts clear of the water.
"Oh, I am so glad you came," she said. "I did not know just what to
do. I thought I might see some of the boys who would help me. Is this
your mother?" She stopped suddenly, and stared at the astonished
Jennie.
"No, this is Jennie, our friend, our manager," Cleo replied kindly.
"But she is just as safe as a mother; you need not fear to speak before
her. How can we help you?"
"Janos came to-day," Mary almost whispered, "and I am so afraid of him
now. He knows I have friends. He saw you in the cave, but I did not
know you were there during the storm." She was speaking quickly,
fearfully, in fact, and had no chance to observe the changes working
through Jennie's quizzical expression. "And he knows where you
live----"
"Was it he who came to our house this afternoon?" asked Madaline.
"Does he wear an auto duster?"
"Yes, that is Janos. And now he wants to get us all away again. O
dear! poor granddaddy! I know he is sick, but he thinks he is all
right," and the child almost sobbed in her helplessness.
"But is someone watching you now? Is Reda over there?" asked Cleo,
indicating the willow banks.
"No, I ran down and said I was going to find my basket I left somewhere
before the storm. But they surely will come soon."
"If you are afraid, child," spoke up Jennie, "just you come along with
us. We can get a car in the village and I will take you home myself."
Four pair of grateful eyes sent their thanks to Jennie. Mary touched
her hand as it rested on the side of the boat.
"Oh, that is so good of you. But--Janos and Reda are not like
Americans, they are from the tropics, you know, and different. Oh, we
are so miserable and unhappy!" Tears now glistened in the heavy lashes
that fringed her dark eyes, and no one seemed to know just what to say
next. Cleo was first to recover herself.
"If you could possibly come with us to the landing we might make some
excuse for picking you up, and Jennie could go home with you. We might
all go. I'll tell you!" a sudden inspiration breaking in on the
difficult situation. "Jump in. We will row back as quickly as we can
and send the boys over to Bailey's for a big car. Then we will all
drive up the mountain with you. We will have the man for protection,
and if your old Reda is not good-natured we will not let you stay there
to-night. Would your grandfather care? Might he allow you to spend a
night with us?"
All the hidden and suppressed hopes in that strangely veiled
countenance seemed to burst through now, and Mary's expression, from
one of almost impenetrable gloom, assumed a strange light--perhaps
borrowed from the sunset.
"Oh, it is too good to be true!" she sighed. "Someone at last is not
afraid to help me!"