The Motor Girls Through New England Part 18

"Girls speeding!" and he slapped his knees in good nature. "Now, Betty thinks she can't go unless the engine stutters, as she calls it. I declare, girls are worse than men these days! Speeding!"

Cora tried to tell something of the circ.u.mstances responsible for her speed, but he would take no excuse--it was ordinary speed, just like Betty's, he declared.

"And you lost your chaperon?" He said this with a delightful chuckle, evidently relis.h.i.+ng the circ.u.mstances that threw the interesting young party into his company.

"Yes," spoke Belle, "there was a fire at the hotel, and she was a doctor. Of course, we didn't count when there were men to be bandaged up."

"A fire!" repeated Mr. Rand. "At a hotel! The Restover, I'm sure.

Why, that is my hotel. I mean I am one of the owners, and on my way up I met the woman doctor. So she was your chaperon! Well, I declare!

Now, that's what I call a coincidence. That young woman--let me see.

She was nursing the head waiter. Ha, ha! a good fellow to nurse.

Always keep in with the head waiter."

"Oh, he was that good-looking fellow, Cora," said Hazel. "Don't you remember how he soared around?"

"A bird, eh?" and Mr. Rand laughed again. "Well, say," and his voice went down into the intimate key, "I wouldn't be surprised if your chaperon gave up her business. I heard some remarks about how very devoted she was to that head waiter."

"Oh, Miss Robbins would never marry a waiter!" declared Belle. "Why, she's a practicing physician!"

"But sometimes the practice is hard and uncertain," Mr. Rand reminded them. "I shouldn't be surprised when I go back there to straighten up accounts to find the doctor and the waiter 'doing nicely.'"

"But how is the man we--that is--who went to the hospital?" asked Cora eagerly. "He was very badly hurt."

"Oh, Jim, wasn't it? Why, he is getting along! By crackie!" and he slapped his knee again, "I have it! It was you who took Jim to the hospital! Now, I see! A motor girl with black hair and a maroon machine! Now, I have, more than ever, reason to be your friend, Miss Kimball. Jim has been with me for years, and had he died as the result of an accident at Restover--well, I shouldn't have gotten over it easily."

"But some one had to take him," said Cora modestly.

"Oh, I know all about that. That's like your excuse for speeding, and it's like Betty again. Wait until she hears that you saved Jim."

"One would never know we were towing a car," intervened Hazel. "We sail along so beautifully."

"But you babies have been awake all night," said Mr. Rand suddenly.

"Now, couldn't you just tuck in somehow and sleep a wink or two? You won't get a chance when you see Betty. She's a regular phonograph--friends.h.i.+p's her key."

"I am sleepy," confessed Cora.

"I'm tired," admitted Belle.

"And I'm dead," declared Hazel.

"Then it's settled. You are each to go to sleep instantly, and if those fellows blow that horn again, I won't let them in to Betty's party," and Mr. Rand, in his wonderful, fatherly way, seemed to tuck each girl into a perfectly comfortable bed. "Now sleep! No more----"

"Gypsies!" groaned Cora, but although he said not a word in reply, he knew perfectly well just what she meant.

CHAPTER XV

THE GYPSY'S WARNING

It was at Betty's party. And as Mr. Rand had told our friends, Betty was a wonderful girl--for being happy and making others happy.

Now, here it was less than a year from the time of her dear mother's death, and on her own birthday, of course, she would not have a party, but when Daddy came in with his arms full of company and bundles, as Betty put it, of course she turned right in and had an impromptu party--just to make Daddy happy.

It was an easy matter to gather in a few of the nearby cottagers, of whom there were many very pleasant samples, and so, when the evening following the midnight tow arrived, the party from Chelton found themselves rested and ready for the festivities. As usual, Walter was devoted to Betty. Jack liked her, Ed admired her, but Walter claimed her--that was his way. She was a pretty girl of rather an unusual type, accounted for, her father declared, by the fact that her mother was an Irish beauty, and gave to Betty that wonderful golden-red hair, the hazel eyes and the indescribable complexion that is said to come from generations of b.u.t.termilk.

And withal she was such a little flirt! How she did cling to Walter, make eyes at Ed and defy Jack, giving to each the peculiar attention that his special case most needed.

Belle and Bess found it necessary to take up with some very pleasant chaps from a nearby hotel, while Cora and Hazel made themselves agreeable with two friends of Mr. Rand's--boys from New York, who had many mutual acquaintances with Chelton folks and, therefore, could talk of other things than gears and gasoline.

Mr. Rand was on the side porch, and when the drawing-room conversation waited for the next remark, his voice might be heard in a very animated discussion. Cora sat near a French window, and she heard:

"But the hat! How did his particular hat get there?"

The answer of his friend was not audible.

"I tell you," went on the gentleman, "this thing has got to be watched.

I don't like it!"

"Oh, Coral" chirped Belle. "Do sing the 'Gypsy's Warning.' We haven't heard it since the night----"

"Walter fished up a chaperon," added Jack, with a laugh.

"The 'Gypsy's Warning'!" repeated Betty.

"It's a very old song," explained Cora, "but we had to revive something, so we revived----"

"The gyp," finished Ed, getting up and fetching Cora's guitar from the tete in the corner. "Do sing it, Cora. This is such a gypsy land out here."

"Are there?" asked Bess, in sudden alarm.

"There _are_," said Ed mockingly. "There are gypsy land out here!"

"Oh, you know perfectly well what I meant," and Bess pursed her lips prettily.

"Course I do; if I didn't--land help me--I would need a map and a horoscope in my pocket every single minute."

"Come on, Cora, sing," pleaded Hazel. "Let them hear about our Warning."

"I'm afraid it's too late," objected Cora with a sly look at Betty and Walter. "We should have sent the warning on ahead of us."

She stood up to take the instrument from Ed's hands. She was near the French window again.

"I tell you," she heard Mr. Rand say, "these gypsy fellows will stoop to anything. And as for revenge--they say once a gypsy always a gypsy.

Which means they will stick by each other----"

"Come on, Cora. We want the song. I remember my mother used to sing the 'Gypsy's Warning,' and she brought it right down to date--we never went near a camp," said Walter.