IN THE MOTELY MOTE
"Do you young ladies realize that we have the cares of housekeeping on
our shoulders?" asked Cora, from a mass of boxes and bags, not to
mention trunks, in the alleged living room of the Mote.
"Oh, let us forget it--do," begged Bess. "I always hate the summertime
when it brings dishes and things."
"It's good for you," affirmed Marita. Bess did know that hard work is
considered "good" for stout persons.
"Maybe, but it is not pleasant," Bess answered, flinging herself upon
the improvised couch, a matter of hammocks and blankets, still bearing
baggage checks and tie-ropes.
"But our housekeeper has given notice," announced Cora. "And I don't
wonder. Not one has been on time for a single meal since we arrived.
But I must say, I wish she had stayed until the stuff was all
unpacked. It's dreadful on the hands," and she looked at hers
ruefully.
"Why not ask the boys to help?" asked Lottie, who was doing her best
to press her damp clothes by stretching the most important of them
over Belle's trunk, and holding them there with two suitcases. "If I
had not gotten these things wet I should have been glad to unpack, but
if I leave them this way over night I shall never be able to wear them
again."
"If you knew the boys as well as we do," Bess put in, "you would know
what their help means. They would insist upon trying on every article
of clothing they unpacked; wouldn't they Cora?"
"Something like that, Bess, if they did unpack at all. But, seriously,
if you will give me a little help to drag these empty trunks to the
porch, I will tell you of a plan I have evolved. Of course we cannot
remain this way without a chaperone."
"Isn't it perfectly silly?" complained Belle. "As if we were not all
capable of taking care of ourselves."
"Oh, I don't know about that," objected Cora. "I have noticed that in
case of emergency, when some strange man happens to poke his nose in
at the window, we are all rather glad to acknowledge we are mere
babes."
"And also when we meet them under willow trees," Marita reminded the
boastful ones. "I am sure I agree with Cora that we need a chaperone,
and perhaps a policeman or two."
The girls paused in dragging the baggage toward the front door.
"Just the same," Marita went on, "Lottie was frightened to-day and she
only heard a strange man say, 'They call them the motor girls.' As if
that was anything terrifying."
"But it was the way they said it," Lottie protested. "They just peered
at us--and----"
"Now, Lottie," said Cora, "you have an idea that everyone who looks at
us 'peers' at us. For my part I was rather flattered by their
attention. You see the fame of the motor girls is spreading. But let
me now make my proposition," and she settled down on the rug that was
intended to cover the floor--some time.
"Let her 'prop'!" cried Belle.
"Well, you know our little friend, Freda, has lost some property; that
is, her mother and herself have lost a certain claim to it. This
little colony around here is fairly bristling with the prosperity
implanted in it by such thrifty men as was Freda's grandfather, but in
spite of that, strangers come in, make a big fuss about riparian
rights, and government laws, and property claims and, in so doing,
pretend to discover a flaw in a title that for years has been
considered perfectly clear." She paused, for Bess had opened her mouth
twice, and this time Cora wanted to hear what she had to say.
"We heard some women talking about that to-day," said Bess, "and they
said it was a shame to take a homestead from Mrs. Lewis. They were not
whispering their opinions, either."
"So it is a shame," Cora said, "and if we can, in any way, help to get
the truth established, we will surely have a good reason to remember
this holiday."
"How?" queried Marita. "We don't understand anything about land, and
deeds, and lawyers."
At this everyone but Marita laughed. She was not acquainted with the
daring deeds of the motor girls, as that was what they had undertaken
and accomplished in the past.
"You see, Marita dear," Cora explained, "because we seem such harmless
babies we are able to get information that others, considered more
dangerous, might not have access to. Now, let me continue. There are
men around here, members of some sort of a land company, who are
trying to get hold of certain papers. We don't know whether they exist
or not, but in our own quiet, girlish way----"
Here she was interrupted with a burst of mocking laughter. "Your quiet
girlish way," repeated Belle. "Why, Cora, I do believe if you thought
you could get the better of that land company you would take the
_Chelton_, and go--pirating! Wouldn't it be great to go out on a dark
night, steam up the bay, watch for other boats, listen to the
smugglers----"
"Oh, Belle," put in Lottie, "that's not the way in books. We would
have to go out and get kidnapped, and then, when in the cave, we would
hear the plot of the men who were going to steal the old homestead."
"Hurrah!" cried her hearers.
"Lottie for captain of the kidnapped," suggested Cora. "Now, Lottie,
when it gets good and dark you are to go out under the biggest tree on
the place and await your captors."
"Hello there! Anybody home?"
"The boys!" gasped Belle. "Now what about having wasted our time? Come
in!"
"Nice of you to ask us," groaned Jack. "Say, we are dead and buried,
and the will is now being read. Somebody broke into our larder and
stole the grub. Have you any to put out at interest?"
"Stole your eatables!" exclaimed Marita.
"Well, you could scarcely call it that," replied Jack, espying an
undamaged orange on the window sill, and making a lunge for it. "We
did intend to eat the stuff, but it was just plain grub--not
eatables."
"Jack, haven't you boys had your supper?" asked Cora.
"We are on a diet," explained Jack. "Wallie had the crackers, Ed
nabbed the dried beef--he's the biggest and needs the most, you
know--and I got the pickles. Then we followed directions, and each
drank three sips of pure spring water. But the trouble arose when Dray
came in. He said he was to have milk--doctor's orders. We didn't have
any but 'pretense' milk, so Dray is now out looking for a cow."
Just then the sound of approaching footsteps was heard.
"They come!" announced Jack. "I was merely the herald. Have you made
out the menu, Cora dear?"
"Do you mean to say we have to feed--all you boys?" demanded Bess.
"Feed us? No, we can eat with spoons. Just lead us to the eats.
Really, it is serious with Dray. He has already gone dead white. Come
in, fellows. We are expecting you. The girls are just getting out the
best linen!"
Dray, Walter and Ed entered, and like Jack, showed signs of starvation.
They literally fell into the most convenient spot available as they
reached the room.
"Good evening, ladies," panted Dray. "We are delighted to accept your
kind invitation to dine with you. Pray pardon the togs. I feel like a
regular 'toff,' don't you know, but my studs are for the moment lost.
And what is a frock without the studs!"
"Well, if this isn't the very utmost," said Cora, laughing at the
boys' predicament. "Do you mean to say that you are really hungry?"
"Shall we demonstrate?" asked Ed. "Do you allow us? Belle, get out the
chronometer and a hunk of something. If you don't soon you will have a
case of homicide on your hands."
Finally believing that the boys were hungry, the girls proceeded to
empty the ice box on the back porch. They did not find any too much
food there, for the sudden departure of their housekeeper that
afternoon had left the girls themselves almost stranded. But, being
girls, they managed the living end a little better than the boys did.
The boys, it seemed, had laid in a stock of canned stuff, in the usual
hit-and-miss way, but some other campers found the "cave" where the
food had been hidden. It was out of the question either to take or get
ice, so the next best thing considered was the digging of a big hole
in a very damp place. Into this the boys had sunk a nice, clean,
galvanized tub, and in it the victuals had been placed. On top was a
cover, made of boards and oil cloth, and over this was placed the limb
from a tree, this last to detract attention.
"Now, wouldn't you think," said Jack, as he fortified himself with a
sandwich, "that any decent chap would know that we belonged to the
union? We are going to form a housewives' league at dawn to-morrow,
and then we will find the culprits. They will be offering us our own
grub at exorbitant rates."
"Bright little Jackie," commented Bess, who was devouring cheese and
macaroons. "When you find the culprits you will have a perfectly good
movie act in your camp. It will be entitled 'The Fate of the Kid
Grubber.'"
While the boys were thus engaged in the delightful task of keeping off
starvation, the girls were anxious to hear what was the proposition
Cora had offered to lay before them.
"That's just the way," grumbled Belle; "we never can get at the
interesting things!"
"I am going to tell the boys this minute," threatened Marita. "We
notice, Belle, that you brought out that lemon pie that was hidden.
Looks as if you found the boys rather interesting."
"Now you know exactly what I mean," insisted Belle. "Cora said we had
to have a chaperone and we all agreed. Instead, we have a crowd of
noisy boys."
"When you boys have finished," Cora remarked, "we would like to clear
up the debris. Also, we have a sad announcement to make. We have lost
our housekeeper!"
"Good!" almost shouted Ed. "I apply at once. I can give every
qualification, even to a civil service examination. Cora, I never
tasted such food before----"
"Mutiny!" yelled Jack, making a spring at Ed, which ended in such a
mixup that the girls fled to the kitchen.
"We really cannot stay alone here to-night," Cora said.
But the boys had come to their feet again, and evidently to terms.
Jack was hugging Walter and Dray was smoothing Ed's black hair.
"Will the boys go and leave us?" asked the timid Marita.
"Of course they will, and that right now," declared Cora. "We have no
time to spare to get someone else to stay with us, however. Bess, do
you want to come with me? I am going out for our new companion."