CHAPTER XXII
IDA GILES
Bess really surprised herself by the quickness with which she gother machine out of the barn. In the excitement the words of advicePaul had given her came back with force. In a few minutes the motorgirls were rushing down the muddy roads, splashing through bigpuddles, but they themselves were kept from the drenching downpourby the firemen's heavy coats and helmets. They gave one look back atthe burning house. The blaze had enveloped the entire roof.
"Oh, if we can only return in time!" cried Cora as she threw in thefull speed forward.
Cora said afterward that they reached the barn in less than fourminutes, but Bess declared they never went as fast as that. Mr.Appleby did not know what to make of three excited girls, in twopanting automobiles, rushing up to him and demanding the fireapparatus, but--he managed to understand what had happened, and whythey wanted it.
"Tie the hose carts to the back of the autos with ropes!" criedCora. "We can pull them up the hill. Are there any men around tohelp with the hose? If there are we'll take them to the fire in ourcars."
"No, I guess not; but I'll send my boy for some help right away.There'll be lots of men in their houses 'count of the rain. I'll gowith you."
Fortunately there was no need to hunt for ropes, as there were twolong ones on the hose carts, and Mr. Appleby, working with speed,aided by the girls, soon had the apparatus attached.
The run back took longer, but it--was made in good time, and Coraand Bess, at the wheels of their respective cars, guided them andthe hose carts into the yard near the burning house.
The blaze was fiercer now, but it had not eaten down as far as itwould have done had it not been for the heavy rain.
The farmer and his hired man had carried the bedridden woman out,placing her on a mattress in the carriage house.
"Attach the hose to the hydrants!" cried Mr. Appleby. "I'll turn onth' water."
"Who'll handle the nozzles?" asked the farmer.
"It'll take two men to each one, there's so much force to th'water."
"You an' I can handle one!" yelled Mr. Apple by, "an' your hiredman."
"He can't manage th' other alone."
"Then we'll help!" called Cora. "Come on, girls!"
The lines were unreeled, attached to the hydrants, and were soonspurting water. Cora and Bess, for Belle declared herself toonervous to help, aided the hired man in holding one nozzle of theleaping, writhing hose, that seemed like some great snake as itsquirmed under the pressure of the water. The farmer and Mr. Applebymanaged the other.
The fire burned slowly, and the little force was really setting itunder control when some men, summoned by young Appleby, arrived andrelieved the girls. More lines of hose were run from the hydrants,each one of which could supply water to two, and the blaze was soonout, though the house had been considerably damaged.
"Well, if it hadn't been fer them young ladies and their machines,maybe you wouldn't have had any house, Frank," said Mr. Appleby tothe farmer.
"That's right; and land knows I can't begin t' thank 'em. If everthey want a friend, all they've got to do is t' call on FrankEttner---that's me."
He thrust out his rough hand, and Cora clasped--or tried to--thebig palm in her own little one.
"I--I don't know how to thank you!" he exclaimed fervently.
"We couldn't help doing it," said Cora, blushing, and then Mr.Ettner insisted on shaking her hand again, and also with Belle andBess.
"Well, we certainly had an adventure!" exclaimed Cora as the motorgirls were riding home after the shower had stopped. "Whatever willthe boys say?"
"The boys will be very proud of you, Cora," declared Belle.
It was a few days after this when Cora was out alone in her car,trying to understand, among many other things, why Ida had notcalled for her ring.
"And why doesn't Jack let me take it to her?" she asked herselfagain. "I declare I can't understand Jack," and she shook her head.
Along the turnpike she guided her car, going on slow speed to morefully enjoy the odor of the wild honeysuckle which in tangled masseslined the roadside, mingling with the wild rose perfume that waswafted on the gentle breezes.
She came to a narrow place, where there was room but for one vehicleto pass at a time, and seeing a bunch of wild fern, Cora got out ofthe car to gather some. As she did so she heard a girl's voicepleading in alarmed tones:
"Let me pass! You must let me pass!"
"Not until I get some money out of you--or somebody!" exclaimed therough voice of a man.
"I tell you I haven't any money!"
"Well, you know who has. Come on, I want it."
There was a sound of breaking sticks, as if the man had taken a stepnearer the girl. She retreated, and this brought her into view ofCora.
It was Ida Giles!
Cora leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the man. She was startledto see that he was that good-for-nothing Lem Gildy.
"Come on," growled Lem, "fork over some cash."
"I haven't any. Oh, please, Lem, let me pass!"
He took another step toward her with outstretched hands, and Idsshrank back. She screamed, but Lem only sneered.
"No one'll hear you," he said. "Come on, I must have money, or I'lltell some things I know."
Cora was hidden from the two by a screen of bushes, and on the dirtof the road, with her car running at low speed, they had not heardher.
Lem laid his hand on Ida's wrist.
"Let me alone!" she screamed. "Help! help!"
Cora saw a stout stick lying on the ground. With hardly a thoughtof what she was doing she caught it up and stepped forward.
"There's nobody here to help you," said Lem with a brutal chuckle.
"Yes, there is!" cried Cora in ringing tones. "Let go of her arm,Lem Gildy, or I'll strike you with this!" and the girl raised thestick over the rascal's head.
He hesitated a moment, still gripping Ida, who was on the verge ofcollapse. She looked at Cora with wonder and fear.
"Let go!" demanded Cora, taking a step nearer.
"Not for you!" answered Lem defiantly.
Cora brought the stick down with stinging force on his wrist. With ahowl of pain he let go and advanced toward Cora, but she struck himaver the head with her weapon, and Ida, who had recovered hercourage, catching up a heavy stone, made it a more even battle. Witha muttered snarl Lem slunk away and disappeared in the underbrush.Cora felt herself trembling violently, but she kept control ofherself.
"Oh, Cora!" sobbed Ida. "I believe I would have died if you had notcome along. I was never afraid of Lem Gildy, and when I saw himfollowing me along the road I never dreamed that he would molestme."
"What did he want?" asked Cora.
"Oh, it's all over that dreadful money! Mr. Foster's, you know."
Indeed, Cora was beginning to suspect that.
Sobbing like a child, Ida leaned on the arm that Cora held out toher, though as a matter of fact Cora was in need of assistanceherself.
"Well, never mind," she said to Ida. "Just get in my car and we'llgo right to your home. He was a perfectly horrid man, and should bepunished. See what he did to Jack, starting off his car and injuringhim. Now he tries to rob you."
"Not exactly rob, Cora. He says some one--"
"Now don't go into details until you feel better. Come, get in thecar with me," and Cora led Ida back to where the auto waited.
"Oh; Cora! I--I can't get in your car with you--I--I can't acceptany kindness from you--after--after what I've done. And to thinkthat you should come to save me from him! I--I feel like a--athief!"
"But you're not!" declared Cora stoutly.
"No, not exactly, but almost as bad. Oh, Cora, I--I wish I couldtell you, but I--I daren't!" and again Ida sobbed hysterically.
"Well, Ida, dear, you don't have to tell me now--maybe not at anytime," spoke Cora soothingly as she placed her arm about the girl'swaist. "Come along for a ride in the Whirlwind. That will settleyour nerves."
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"Where are you going?" asked Ida as she noticed they were notheading for Chelton.
"We'll go to New City, Ida," went on Cora with sudden resolve. "Iwant to ask you a question."
"Yes," spoke Ida nervously.
"Did you lose anything at my party?" and Cora's thoughts were on thediamond ring in the safe.
"No," replied Ida firmly.
"Didn't you, really?" insisted Cora, surprised that Ida would notadmit ownership of the ring.
"I--I didn't lose anything, Cora," and Cora wondered at the stressIda placed on the word "lose."
"Well, I have a secret to tell you. Jack did not want me to speakof it, but I'm going to, for I'm just consumed with curiosity. PaulHastings found a beautiful diamond ring in his pocket after thefete, and your initials were engraved in the gold."
Cora turned so as to look into Ida's face, and she could plainly seethat a change came over her countenance.
"Paul Hastings found it?" murmured Ida. "The ring with my initialsin?"
"Yes. Didn't you really lose it?"
For a moment Ida did not speak. She was biting her lips, and herfingers were nervously playing with the fringe on the lap robe.
"Cora," she exclaimed impulsively, "I have been mean--hateful toyou--but--you have not deserved it. Sid Wilcox told me he had youout riding, and he said you spoke of a lot of things about me--"
"What!" cried Cora. "He dared to say that?"
"Yes; and people saw you out with him."
"So they might have; but the truth was he jumped into my car and ranaway with it without my permission. That's how I came to be in themotor with him."
"He never told me that!" exclaimed Ida. "Well, that's just likehim. Now I will tell you. It was he who forced that ring on me--andI would not take it at first. But he made me. Then I determined toget rid of it. I did not lose it, but I slipped it into WalterPennington's pocket. Oh, Cora! You know I--I do like Walter, andI--I thought if he saw that I wouldn't keep some one else'sengagement ring that--somehow--he might send it back where it camefrom, and--and--"
Her tears interrupted her. Cora did not understand.
"You put it in Walter Pennington's pocket?" she repeated slowly."Why, it was found in Paul Hastings' pocket."
"Wasn't Walter dressed up like Marc Anthony?" demanded Ida, ceasingher sobbing and looking up with wonder in her eyes.
"No. He was the clown. Paul was the Roman," and Cora began to seehow some things had come about.
"That explains it," murmured Ida. "It was a mistake! And did thatthat ring actually have my initials in?"
"It is marked `I.G.,'" said Cora. "We have been expecting you tocall for it."
"Where is it now?"
"Home, in our safe."
"Then keep it there!" exclaimed Ida, a new determination in hervoice.
"But we cannot keep it," objected Cora. "It is not mine nor Jack's.Why not give it back to Sid?"
"Neither is it his," went on Ida. "He gave it to me, and now I askyou to keep it--in trust."
"I don't see how we can do that very well. The reason I mentionedit to you, against Jack's wish, was that I wanted to get rid of theresponsibility of keeping it. Suppose it should be stolen? It isquite valuable."
"Well, I cannot take it," insisted Ida. "Mother would not allow meto have it in the house. Sid said it cost five hundred dollars."
"It is certainly a very valuable ring," admitted Cora. "But, Ida,if I were you I would give it back to Sid."
"Well, perhaps I shall--some day. But oh, Cora, you cannot imaginewhat I have gone through with in the last month!" and Ida pressedher handkerchief to her swollen eyes.
"I am sorry," said Cora simply. "Can I help you, Ida?"
They had ridden through New City, and were back again in Chelton.Ida had asked to be let out at the post-office, and as Cora--drew upin front of it for her to alight, Ida extended her hand, and the twogirls looked into each other's eyes, each trying to read herneighbor's thoughts.
"Coca, you can help me, and I will soon ask you to do so," said Idaalmost in a whisper; "but now--I cannot tell you now," and shehurried out of the car.