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I may have dropped it. I'll let you know as soon as soon as I go to a certain place and look. There is time enough to notify the authorities afterward. I'll telephone you if I don't find it, and then I'll tell the police in Chelton. But I must hurry." "Yes; you had better lose no time," advised the president. "The thief if there, was one could easily dispose of those securities.
He's coming nearer. I don't believe you can do better than ask him to ride back to Chelton with you. Needn't be too specific about what's in the pocketbook. But two pairs of eyes are better than one, you know." "All right," assented Jack. "Here goes." Lem Gildy was shuffling along the road.
He was over into the Chelton, and piling more potatoes under the little tin cover on the toaster, before anyone had time to answer. "Turned or unturned?" he asked, surveying a smoking potato critically. "Both or neither," answered the famished Dainty between gasps. "I'll take my coffee now," announced Jack, sitting back in the cushions, and flicking an imaginary speck from his sweater.
In fact, I rather thought you merely took her up out of charity. Every one in Chelton knows that the Thayers are just poor working-people." That was too much for Cora. She stepped to the door of the tea-room with dismissal in her manner. He knew she intended him to leave at once. "But what I want to know," he said, deliberately following her, "is just who this Thayer girl is.
Cora, Bess and Belle were real girl chums, but they never knew all, the delights of chumship until they "went in" for motoring. Living in the New England town of Chelton, on the Chelton River, life had been rather hum-drum, until the advent of the "gasoline gigs" as Jack, Cora's brother, slangily dubbed them.
So I'll just put them where they won't find them in a hurry." A search had been made in Chelton for the mysterious man who had tried to make off with Inez's valise, but all trace of him was lost. He might have been merely a passing tramp. The girls were in a constant flutter of excitement. There was so much to do, and so many new garments to secure.
And in solving it, they bested the land-sharpers, and came upon the real knowledge of the value of the red oar. Those incidents had taken place during the summer. Autumn had come, with its shorter days, its longer nights, the chill of approaching frosts and winter, and the turning of leaves, and the girls I had bidden farewell to the sad, salty sea waves, and had returned to cheerful Chelton.
Somehow, in speaking of the motor girls, I always think of Cora Kimball first. Perhaps it is because she was rather of a commanding type. She was a splendid girl, tall and dark. Her mother was a wealthy widow, who for some years had made her home in the quiet New England town of Chelton, where she owned valuable property.
"Anything for a change," again assented Jack, without enthusiasm. Arrangements were rapidly being made. The Kimball and Robinson homes in Chelton would be closed for, the winter, for the families planned to stay in the West Indies until spring should have again brought forth the North into its green attire. Walter Pennington had agreed to stay as long as Jack did, and Mrs.
I'll stick to the Chelton." But if the girls had only known that, at that moment, far out on Crystal Bay, was the ill-fated Dixie, drifting to sea, while the boys tooted hopelessly for aid on the compressed air whistles! The Chelton made a quick and uneventful trip to the fisherman's cabin. From it a light peacefully glowed. "There's no one here," announced Bess. "Not even the boys."
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