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"Rob Roland," she said calmly, "my friend, Miss Thayer, is not only a lady, but she is also a student of human ills. She has been interested in little Wren that she might be cured. It appears that some of her relatives consider her incurable."
"Cured!" he sneered. "That misfit made right! Why, she has only a few months to live. Your friend is very foolish. She should put her energy on something worth while. And she should be careful how she handles their property. That sc.r.a.pbook, for instance."
"How dare you, Rob Roland!" exclaimed Cora. "Miss Thayer says the child has been ill-treated through alleged treatment, and it appears the man who has been treating her was paid by your father."
"Oh, my!" The fellow sank deeper into his linen coat. "I had no idea of your dramatic powers, Miss Kimball. I beg a thousand pardons. I never dreamed that the Thayer girl was so close to you. 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. It is important that we should know, to go on with the--"
"We!" interrupted Cora. "Pray, who are 'we'?"
"Why, my father's firm, the lawyers, you know," he stammered. "Some day, Miss Kimball, I expect to represent the firm of Roland, Reed & Company."
Cora turned and looked at him. It was on that very spot that she had turned to Ed--Ed was so like this young man, the same dark, handsome youth, and just about his age.
But Ed was, after all, so different--so very different.
Cora was gaining time as she strove to hold him by her magnetic glance.
Any youth would accept it; he did not despise it.
"Mr. Roland," she said, in her own inimitable velvet tones, "you are making a very great mistake. If you really believe that Cecilia Thayer had anything to do with the loss of that child's book, you are wrong; if you think she had any other than humane motives in visiting the child, you are wrong again. Cecilia Thayer--"
"Oh, now come, Cora," he interrupted. "You don't mind me calling you Cora? I know the whole scheme. Your brother Jack is--well, he is quite clever, but not clever enough to cover up his tracks." He grasped Cora's arm and actually dragged her to him. "Don't you know that Cissy Thayer and Jack Kimball are suspected of abduction? That Wren Salvey has been stolen-stolen, do you hear?"
CHAPTER XVI
A STRANGE MESSAGE
Uproarious laughter from the girls with the wild flowers aroused Cora.
Rob Roland was gone.
Had she fainted? Was that roaring in her ears just awakened nerves?
"Cora! Oh, Cora! We had the most darling time," Bess was bubbling.
"You should have been along. Such a dear old farmer. He showed us the queerest tables. And he had the nicest son. Cora-- What is the matter?"
"Oh," lisped Ray, "another Co-Ed message over the telephone."
"Cora, dear," exclaimed Gertrude, "we should not have left you all alone. Are you ill?"
"Cora! Cora!" gasped Adele.
"Cora, dear!" sighed Tillie.
"Oh, Cora!" moaned Belle. "What has happened?"
"Cora, darling," cried Maud, "who has frightened you?"
"Cora Kimball," called Daisy, "have you been drinking too much tea?"
"Too little," murmured Cora. "Will some of you girls leave off biting the air, and make a good cup of tea?"
There was a wild rush for the alcohol lamp; every one wanted to make the good cup of tea.
"I saw a runabout moving away as we came up," said Ray. "I hope, Cora, your caller was not obnoxious."
"Oh, just an autoist," replied Cora indifferently. "I did not take the trouble to brew tea for one solitary man." The color was coming back into her cheeks now, and with the return of animation her scattered senses attempted to seize upon the strange situation.
Jack and Clip to be arrested for abduction!
Could that fellow have known what he was saying?
If only Jack would call her up on the telephone. She had left word for him to do so, no matter how late the hour might be when he should return home.
"Now drink every sip of this," commanded Adele, as she turned on the lights and fetched Cora a steaming cup of the very best Grotto Hyson.
"There is nothing for shaken nerves better than perfectly fresh tea, and, you see, we make it without soaking the leaves."
"It is delightful," said Cora, sipping the savory draught. "I must learn how to make tea this way--it is so different from the home-brewed variety."
Gertrude sat close to the reclining girl. "Is there nothing I can do, Cora?" she asked. "No message I can send?"
"Yes," whispered Cora; "you can manage to get the girls out of here before you and I leave for the night. I want to use the telephone privately."
Gertrude understood. She had not been a roommate with Cora Kimball for two years without knowing something of her temperament. She pressed her friend's hand gently, then said loud enough for the others to hear:
"We will soon have to get our machines under cover. Tillie says her grandfather has all sorts of sheds over around his country place. In fact, he has a regular shed-farm. Cora, I am just dying to try running a motor. Would you trust me to get the Whirlwind in the shed safely?"
"Of course I would, Gertrude," and Cora jumped up from the wicker divan. "I would suggest that some one go along, though--perhaps Ray.
She has had some experience, and you know the Whirlwind."
"Is not a prize-package machine," interrupted Gertrude. "All right, Cora. I will humbly take instructions. Come along, girls. It will be dark directly, and then we might have to waste time lighting the lamps."
"And grandfather's man has offered to look over every machine early in the morning," said Tillie. "He is quite expert; we will be sure that every nut and bolt is in perfect order."
This was good news to the motor girls, especially to Daisy, who had her own secret doubts about her father's best car--she was accustomed to running the subst.i.tute.
Presently all except Cora and Adele were attending to the cars. Cora was just about to call up her own house when the tinkle of the telephone bell startled her. She picked up the receiver and was not surprised to find the party inquired for was herself.
"This is Jack," came the welcome voice. "Is that you, sis?"
"Oh, yes, Jack, dear!" she replied. Adele had gone out to fetch the chairs in from the porch. "I have been almost frantic. Where are you?
Where is Clip? Where is Wren?"