The Motor Girls on Cedar Lake Part 10

"Well, to tell the truth my mother and Jim's was cousins, but I never knowed him to be such a poor character as he is, or I'd never have come up here. But I don't have to stay all summer,"' she finished significantly.

"Well, good-bye, and I'll see you soon again," said Cora turning toward her boat.

"Good-bye, miss, but say," and she half whispered, "is that girl dumb?"

Cora burst out laughing. Bess a mute!

"No indeed, but she always lets me do the talking," answered Cora with a sty look at the blus.h.i.+ng Bess.

"She has good sense, fer you know how to do it," declared Kate Simpson.

They could hear her bend the brush as she pa.s.sed up the narrow way.

"What a queer creature," remarked Bess, when she felt that it was safe to try her voice.

"She is queer, but I think she knows a lot about things of interest to us. What did you think of her remark about Fern Island? To that pretty little spot we will make our next voyage," declared Cora, pulling on her thick gloves and taking her place in front of the motor. "Turn out into the open lake," she told Bess as they started off. "We will make a quick run and get back to the bungalow before the others have done the marketing. I am glad it is not our turn to get the lunch for I want to make a trip to Fern Island directly after we have had a bite. Seems to me," and she increased the speed of the engine a little, "it takes more time to get a meal at camp than it does at home. The simple life certainly has its own peculiar complications."

"Oh, there comes that man back! I am so glad we are away from that place," exclaimed Bess, as the boat of Jim Peters, with the smiling foreigner called "Jones" floated by.

CHAPTER VIII

THE HAUNT OF FERN ISLAND

The four motor girls started out in the Petrel. Never had the lake seemed so beautiful, nor had the sky appeared a deeper, truer blue.

The pretty Placid lake was dotted all over with summer craft, the sound of the motor boat being almost constant in its echoing, "cut-a-cuta" against the wonderful green hills that banked sh.o.r.e and, island.

Hazel was steering, and of course Cora was running the engine. The pennant waved gaily from the bow of the boat, and of the many colors afloat it seemed that those chosen by the motor girls shone out most brilliantly on the glistening, silvery waters.

"I'm not a bit afraid now," admitted Belle, "I do think it is all a matter of getting used to the water. I thought I should never breathe again after that first day we went out."

"Yes," said Cora, "the water has a peculiar fascination when one is accustomed to it, and I am sure Belle will want to live on a houseboat before we break camp. There go the boys! What a fine motor boat!"

"Yes," said Hazel, "that's one from Paul's garage. Paul promised Jack he would speak to Mr. Breslin, the owner, about letting it out for the summer, as the Breslin family is not coming out here until later. It's the Peter-Pan, and the fastest boat on the lake."

"See them go! I guess they don't see us,"' remarked Belle.

"I am glad they do not," Cora said, "for I want to do some exploring, and if the boys came along they would be sure to have other plans for us. Now, Hazel, run in there. That is Fern Island."

"Oh, there's a canoe!" exclaimed Belle. "See! and a girl is paddling. What a queer looking girl!"

"Isn't she!" agreed Bess. "Why she has on a man's hat!"

"She sees that we are watching her. Look how she is hurrying off,"

remarked Cora. "I wonder how far this cove goes in?"

"We had better not try to find out," cautioned Belle. "I think we have had enough of happenings around here. This is where the boy's boat was stolen from; isn't it?"

"No, it was over there, but I guess we will put in at the front of the island, as there is no telling how deep the cove is," said Cora.

"But see that girl go! Why she's actually gone! Where can she have disappeared to?"

"This ought to be called the 'disappearing' land," suggested Hazel.

"I was sure that little canoe was directly in front of us, but now it is out of sight."

"Maybe that is the 'Haunt Girl of Fern Island,'" ventured Cora with a laugh. "I got a pretty good look at her, and I am willing to say she looked neither like a summer girl nor a winter girl--that is, one who might live here the year around. But just what sort of girl she might be I shouldn't like to speculate. Her hair got loose as she hurried, and she reminded me of some wild water bird."

"Be careful getting out," Belle cautioned Bess. "This new boat is new to slipperiness."

"Oh, I will get hold of a tree branch," Bess replied. "Then, if the boat drifts out, I can swing to safety."

All were ash.o.r.e but Bess, and as such things often happen when they are looked for, the Petrel did careen from the waves of a pa.s.sing launch, and just as Bess grasped an overhead willow branch, the boat swung out and she sprang in. Everybody laughed, but Bess lost her breath, a condition she disliked because it always added to the deep color of her plump cheeks.

"There!" cried Belle. "Didn't I tell you?"

"I wish that next time, Twin, you would leave me to guess!"

exclaimed the other twin, rather pettishly.

"Isn't this perfectly delightful!" exclaimed Hazel, running over the soft earth where ferns were matted, and wild flowers grew tangled in their efforts for freedom. "I never saw such dainty little flowers!

Oh! they are sabatial I have seen them in Ma.s.sachusetts," and she fell to gathering the small pink blooms that rival the wild rose in shade and perfume.

"Here are the Maiden Hair ferns," called Cora. "No wonder they call this Fern Island."

"Let us see how many varieties of fern we can gather," suggested Belle. "I have ferns pressed since last year, and they look so pretty on picture mats."

At this the girls became interested in the number of ferns gatherable. Belle went one way, Bess another, and so on, until each had to call to make another hear her.

Cora ran along fearlessly. She was diving very deep into the ferny woods, and she was intent on coming out first, if it were only in a race to get ferns.

Suddenly she stopped!

What was that sound?

Surely it was some one running, and it was none of the girls!

Standing erect, listening with her nerves as well as with her ears, Cora waited. That running or rustling through the leaves was very close by. Should she call the girls?

But before she could answer herself, she saw something dart across a big rock that was caressed by a great maple tree that grew over it.

"Oh!" she screamed involuntarily. Then she saw what it was. A man, a wild looking man, with long hair and a bushy beard.

He had stopped just long enough to look in the direction of Cora.

She saw him distinctly. Oh! if he should run toward Bess or Belle!

Hazel would not be so easily alarmed but surely this was a wild man if ever there was such a creature.

"That is the ghost of Fern Island," Cora concluded. "I must get back to the girls."