CHAPTER XXIII
THE MOTOR GIRLS ON THE WATCH
Cora Kimball was turning away from the antique shop as indifferently asif nothing there interested her. The other girls looked at her aghast.
Bess could scarcely be motioned to silence, for the "little mahoganyman" came to close the door of the tonneau, incidentally to look overhis customers.
"If you come again in a day or so," he said to Cora, "I will havetables," and he rolled his eyes as if the tables were to come from noless a place than heaven itself. "Oh, such tables!"
"I may," replied Cora vaguely. "But I fancy I may have a seaman'stable made. I would not be particular about an original."
"Wait, wait!" exclaimed the man. "If you do not care for an original Icould make a copy. The one I am to get is something very, veryoriginal, and I will have it here. There is no law against making onelike it."
"Well," said Cora, "I will be in Breakwater for a few days, and I maycall in again. There," as he handed in her blue plates, "these aresplendid. Mother has a collection of Baronials."
Then they started off.
Bess drove up to the Whirlwind.
"Why in the world didn't you ask who had ordered the table?" she almostgasped. "If you knew that you could easily have traced it."
"Wait, wait!" exclaimed Cora, in tones so like those of the shopproprietor that the girls all laughed heartily. "I will go to the shopagain, and then I will see. Perhaps I will get the original--andthen--well, wait--just wait."
"You are a natural born clue hunter!" declared Daisy, "and I am justdying to get back to Aunt May's to tell Duncan."
"Now see here, girls," called Cora very seriously, so that all in-thedifferent machines might hear her, "this is a matter that must not bementioned to any one. It would spoil all my plans if the merest hintleaked out. Now remember!" and Cora spoke with unusual firmness; "Imust have absolute secrecy."
Every girl of them promised. What is dearer to the real girl than areal secret--when the keeping of it involves further delights in itsdevelopment?
Once back at Bennet Blade the girls whispered and whispered, until Coradeclared they would all, forsooth, be attacked with laryngitis, if theydid not cease "hissing," and she called upon Doctor Bennet to bear outher statement.
Duncan was going to Chelton, and of course he took the trouble to askwhat he might do there for the Chelton girls.
What he might do? Was there anything he might not do? The Robinsongirls declared that their mail had not been forwarded, and they couldnot trust to mails, anyhow, since their father's papers had been lost.Would it be too much trouble for him just to call? To tell theirmother what a perfectly delightful time they were having, and so on.
And Maud Morris hated to bother him, but could he just stop atClearman's and get her magazine? She was reading a serial, and simplycould not sleep nights waiting for the last instalment.
Of course he would go to see his uncle, Dr. Bennet, Sr. In fact, itwas with Dr. Bennet he had the appointment; and when Daisy started toentrust him with her messages to her father, he insisted that she writethem down--no normal brain could hold such a list, he declared.
Ray was what Bess termed "foxy." She did not ask him to do a singlething. "She thinks he will fetch her a box of candy, or a bottle ofperfume. That's Ray," declared Bess to Belle.
Cora certainly wanted to send many messages, with the opportunity ofhaving them go first-hand. It did seem such a long time since she hadseen Jack; then there was Hazel, poor child, penned up with a sickbrother. And Wren and Clip. Why couldn't Cora just run in to Cheltonherself with Duncan?
The thought was all-conquering. It swayed every other impulse inCora's generous nature. Why should she stop at the thought ofpropriety? Was it not all right for her to ride with Doctor Bennet, toreach Chelton by noon and return before night?
She must go. She would go if every motor girl went along with her.
Mrs. Bennet was one of those dear women who seem to take girls right toher heart. As I have said, she was small and rosy, with thatnever-fading bloom that sometimes accompanies the rosy-cheeked,curly-headed girl far into her womanhood. Cora would go directly toher, and tell her. She would abide by her judgment.
Mrs. Bennet simply said yes, of course. And then she added that Coramight start off without letting the girls know anything about it. Thatwould save a lot of explanation.
How Cora's heart did thump! Duncan was going in his machine, and, likeall doctors, he always preferred to have a man drive--his chauffeur wasmost skilful--doctors, even when young in their profession, do notwillingly risk being stalled.
But in spite of Cora's one guiding rule--"When you make up your mindstick to it"--she had many misgivings between that evening when herplans were made, and the next morning when she was to start off withDuncan Bennet. The other girls had gone out to an evening play inForest Park, one of the real attractions of Breakwater, and at the lastmoment Cora excused herself upon some available pretense so that shewas able to get her things together and see that her machine was safelyput up, and then be ready to start off in the morning before the othergirls had time to realize she was going.
"It does seem," she reflected, "that I am always getting runawayrides." Then she recalled how Sid Wilcox actually did run away withher once, as related in the "Motor Girls." "And," she told herself, "Iseem to like running away with boys."
This was exactly what worried Cora; she knew that others would be aptto make this remark. "But I cannot help it this time," she sighed. "Ihave to go to Chelton, or--"
Cora was looking very pretty. Excitement seems to put the match to theflickering taper of beauty, hidden behind the self-control of healthymaidenhood. Her cheeks were aflame and her eyes sparkled so likeJack's when he was sure of winning a hard contest.
"Dear old Jack!" she thought. "Won't he be surprised to see me! Thatwill be the best part of it. They will all be so surprised."
She went down to the study, where she was sure to find Duncan.
"I suppose your mother has told you of my mad impulse," she beganrather awkwardly. "Do you think the folks will be glad to see me?"
What a stupid remark! She had no more idea of saying that than ofsaying: "Do you think it will snow?" But, somehow, when he put up hisbook and looked at her so seriously, she could not help blundering.
"They ought to be," he said simply. Then she saw that he waspreoccupied--scarcely aware that she was present.
"I beg your pardon," he said directly, "but I was very busy thinking,just then."
"Oh, I should not have disturbed you," she faltered. "I will go awayat once. I just wanted to be sure that you would wait for me--not runoff and leave me."
"Oh, do sit down," he urged. "My brain is stiff, and I've got to quitfor to-night. I haven't told you what takes me to Chelton--in fact, Ihaven't told mother. You see, she thinks I am such a baby that I findit better not to let her know when I am on a case. But the fact is, Iam just baby enough to want to tell some one."
He arranged the cushions in the big willow chair, and Cora sat downquite obediently. She liked Duncan--there was something akin tobravery behind his careless manner. "What he wouldn't do for afriend!" she thought.
"Your case?" asked Cora. "I am very ignorant on medical matters, but Ishould love to hear about the Chelton case. I fancy I know every onein Chelton."
"Well, you know Uncle Bennet, Daisy's father, is quite a surgeon, andhe has been called in this case by Dr. Collins. It is a remarkablecase, and he has asked me to come in also."
"It is that of a child who has been a cripple for some years, and whonow is making such progress under the physical-training system that shepromises to be cured entirely.
"A child?" asked Cora, her heart fluttering.
"Yes; and I rather suspect that you know her." He seemed about tolaugh. "Uncle mentioned your brother's name in his invitation for meto go in on the case."
"Oh, tell me," begged Cora, "is it Wren?
"
"Just let me see," and he looked over some letters. "It seems to me itwas some such fantastical name--yes, here it is. Her name is WrenSalvey."
"Oh, my little Wren! And Clip is doing all this! Oh, I must go! Isshe going to be operated upon?"
"Seems to me, little girl," and the young doctor put his hand over hersas would an elderly physician, "that you are over excitable. I willhave to be giving you a sedative if you do not at once quiet down. Thechild is not to be operated upon, as I understand it. It is simplywhat we call an observation case."
"But she is at our house--she has been there since I came away. Why,however can all that be going on at home and no one there but thehousekeeper--"
"The child was at your house, but is now in a private sanitarium," hesaid quickly. "I have had the pleasure of being in closecorrespondence with your friend Clip."