The Motor Maids Across the Continent Part 14

"Yes, father," answered the girl faintly.

"Come at once."

White as a sheet, with her hands clasped together as if to give herself courage, Evelyn turned to the great wooden tower of a man.

"I don't want to, father. I prefer to stay here with-with my friends."

The man took out a gold watch as big as a turnip and looked at it.

"I will give you three minutes to obey," he said.

The girls had a feeling Evelyn was going to her doom, and this was her last farewell. She threw her arms around Miss Campbell's neck and kissed her; then she kissed each of the Motor Maids. She might have been a devoted daughter and loving sister saying good-by for a long time.

"Good-by! Good-by!" she whispered, trying to stifle her sobs.

Curious people were beginning to drift into the parlor.

The next moment there was the sound of an automobile outside and Evelyn was whisked off in the darkness.

"Dear, dear, dear," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Miss Campbell "I am so upset! That exquisite young girl and that terrible giant creature of a father!"

"Her name was Evelyn, too. Wasn't it queer?" observed Nancy.

"Evelyn, Evelyn," they repeated.

"Evelyn Stone. Mr. Daniel Moore's Evelyn Stone."

In an instant they were all talking at once. It was Evelyn Stone. They recognized her now from the picture, although there was only really a faint resemblance. What picture could do justice to such coloring? The auburn hair, the golden brown eyes and the blush that crept in and out of her face with her changing emotions. But it was she, they were sure of it. She had the same smile-the "snapshot smile."

"If we had only recognized her sooner," cried Billie. "We might have delivered the letter. We might have saved her from that great dragon of a father. We might have done dozens of things."

They were deep in their thought when the stage drove up to the door with a great flourish and a man hastily dragged in several bags of mail.

Everybody gathered around the desk to wait for letters, and when the motor party had each received a package of mail, the first for many days, they hurried to their rooms to read the last news from home. Miss Campbell had half a dozen letters to engross her attention, and it was not until she had read the last word of every one that she opened a package covered with postmarks, showing it had been forwarded from place to place and had followed them over most of their route.

"My goodness gracious me," she cried out in a loud astonished voice as she drew out the contents of the packet.

The girls dropped their letters and ran into her room.

"What is it?" they demanded breathlessly.

"My morocco pocket book with the fifty dollars, the one I lost--"

Miss Campbell could say no more. She was quite overcome and on the verge of tears. She handed a note to Billie to read aloud.

Dear Madam: (it ran)

I picked this pocketbook up in my field, though how it happened to be near a broken box kite I cannot tell you. I am sending it to the address on the visiting card and would be glad if you would notify me that you have received it.

Yours truly, James Erdman, Dealer in Vegetables, Poultry and Eggs.

"He is a very honest man," exclaimed Miss Helen at last, when Billie had finished reading the note.

"And Peter Van Vechten--?" began Mary.

They all looked at each other silently.

"How glad I am he escaped," cried Miss Campbell. "Never, never will I accuse anyone on circ.u.mstantial evidence again."

"I am the one to apologize to him," said Billie. "I insulted him."

"All of us did, I think," put in Elinor.

"We called him a thief," added Nancy sadly.

"I was the one who cut the cords," at last Mary volunteered in a small voice.

How they pummeled her and laughed.

"And never told, you sly minx!" they cried.

But Billie meant some day to apologize openly to Peter Van Vechten.

CHAPTER X.-STEPTOE LODGE.

"King Borria Bungalee Boo, Was a man-eating African swell, His sigh was a hullaballoo, His whisper a horrible yell-A horrible, horrible yell!

"Four subjects and all of them male To Borria doubled the knee, They were once on a far larger scale, But he'd eaten the balance, you see-Scale and balance is punning, you see!

"Scale and balance is punning, you see!" roared the chorus.

Miss Campbell and the girls exchanged rather amazed glances.

They had drawn up in front of a long low rancho. It was quite dark, but from an inside court they could hear the tinkle of a banjo accompanying a deep baritone voice, with many other deep voices joining in the chorus. The singing went on:

"There was haughty Pish-Tush-Pooh-Bah, There was lumbering Doodle-Dum-Dey, Despairing Alack-a-Dey-Ah And good little Tootle-Tum-Teh!

Exemplary Tootle-Tum-Teh,"

rang the chorus.

"My dear, I don't think we'd better try it," said Miss Campbell. "It sounds very rough. I feel quite uneasy-it's very much of an adventure at any rate."