The Motor Girls at Lookout Beach Part 17

"Has a party of automobile folks come in here since eight o'clock?" he asked of the man at the desk.

"Yes," replied the clerk, turning over one page of the big book.

The boys' hearts gave a sort of jerk--it must be their girls, of course.

"Have they registered?" went on Jack. "Were there three cars, and a number of girls?"

The man looked down the list of names.

"Here they are," he said, indicating some fresh writing on the page.

Jack scanned it eagerly.

Then he looked at Ed and Walter.

"Not them!" he almost gasped. "We have got to turn back!"

"Make sure they have not come in, and are on some porch," said Ed.

"They may not have had a chance to get into the office."

But all inquiries failed to give any clue to the lost party, and, without waiting for any refreshments, the almost exhausted young men cranked up their muddy cars, and started off again over the very road they had just succeeded in safely covering.

"We've got to have more s.p.u.n.k if we intend to find them," said Ed, for Jack seemed too overcome to speak. "Why, they may be snug by some farm-house fire, actually enjoying the situation."

"I hope so," faltered Jack. "But next time I'll _go along_--not after them," and he threw in high gear, advanced the spark and then they fairly flew over the turnpike, back to the fork that must have hidden the secret of the turn in the road.

CHAPTER XV

BOYS TO THE RESCUE

Never had a ride seemed so treacherous. Sharp turns threatened to overturn the cars and the brakes, on slippery hills, were of little use. Fortunately the engines of both machines were in perfect running order and in spite of the bad conditions of the roads the _Comet_ and the _Get There_ pegged along, through mud and slush, sometimes sinking deep in the former, and ploughing madly through the latter.

"I thought I saw a light," said Ed to Walter, after a period of hard driving.

"Where?" asked the pilot of the _Comet_.

"To the left--what place can that be?"

Jack's attention was called to a distant but faint gleam, and, presently, the runabouts had left the main road, and were chugging through the heaviest track they had yet encountered. They turned in between what seemed to be tall gate-posts.

"Why--this is--a graveyard!" exclaimed Jack, as the headlight fell on a shaft across a tall monument.

"Well that's--something, over there," declared Ed. "And I--see it--move!"

He slackened the speed of the car.

"Now for real ghosts!" Walter could not refrain from remarking, although the situation was far from rea.s.suring.

"This is a cemetery, all right," went on Jack. "What's the use of us ploughing over--graves? Let's get out. We took the wrong turn, I guess."

"Let's give a call," suggested Walter, at the same moment squeezing two or three loud "honk-honks" on his horn.

"Hark!"

"Honk! Honk! Honk--honk--honk!"

"That's Cora's signal," shouted Jack. "Hurry on ahead, Walter. They are some place in this cemetery."

But it was not so easy to hurry over the gruesome driveway, for it was narrow and uncertain, and the heavy rains had washed out so many holes, that the boys felt an uncanny fear that a sudden turn might precipitate them into some strange grave.

"Where are you!" yelled Jack at the top of his voice. "Turn on your lights!" pleaded Walter, without waiting for a possible answer. "We can't tell where you are!"

As quickly as it could have been possible to do so, the strong searchlight of a car (surely it was Cora's) gleamed over the shafts of stone, and marble, that now seemed like so many pyramids, erected to confuse the way of the alarmed young men.

"We can't cut over the headstones," almost growled Ed. "What on earth do folks want those things sticking up for?"

The absurdity of the remark was lost on the others.

"If the girls are around they must have been blown in here," declared Jack, making a sudden turn, and jamming the foot-brake to keep the machine on its wheels, while he released the clutch.

"Here! Here!" came the unmistakable voice of Cora.

"Which way?" Jack called back.

"Look out for the lake! Turn in from the vault!" came the voice again, and none too soon, for without the drivers having any idea of being near a body of water, both runabouts a moment later, were actually on the very brink of a dangerous-looking lake.

"Gos.h.!.+" exclaimed Walter. "We nearly got ours that time. I'm going to get out and walk."

"Great idea," agreed Ed, and at the same time Jack also left his car.

More shouting and more answers soon put the searchers on the right track, and, although they were obliged to run over graves, and otherwise forget the sacredness of their surroundings, the trio soon brought up back of the vault, where the lamps of the _Whirlwind_ and of the _Flyaway_ told the first part of the strange story.

"Oh, boys!" gasped Belle and Bess in one breath.

"Jack!" exclaimed Cora.

"Thank fortune!" came the fervent words from Mrs. Robinson.

Jack had Cora in his arms before he could say a word, Walter and Ed divided themselves among the frightened group as best they could.

Belle really fell into some one's arms, and Bess had difficulty in clinging to her trembling, little mother.

"Another moment in this dreadful place, and I should have died!"

wailed Mrs. Robinson.

"And to think that it was all my fault, that you came out just to let me--see the--ocean," cried the visitor, Miss Steel of Chicago. "I shouldn't have consented----"