Part 7 (1/2)

”What did I tell you!” cried Jack, folding the cloak about him in dramatic style. ”Paul Hastings for the enterprise. Cedar Lake is the field; eh, Paul?”

”Well, I had a fine offer,” said Paul modestly. ”And I have been wanting to get out this way. They say there are all sorts of things to do in this locality.”

”Looking for work! What do you think of that! Why, Paul dear, we are looking for a camp cook. Wallie nearly poisoned us on pancakes today,” said Ed, ”and if you would accept--”

”Come in doors,” interrupted Cora. ”We have had rather a strenuous afternoon, and I am almost tired. How did you get up from the train? Or did you come by boat?” she asked the new arrivals.

”A fellow rowed us up--”

”Yes and charged us fifty cents each,” interrupted Hazel. ”Wasn't that outrageous!”

”Some one like Jim Peters, I'll bet,” said Ed. ”But as Cora advised, let's go in doors. We really haven't dined!”

”Oh! you poor boys,” cried Belle. ”We almost forgot that you were stranded. Let me help Nettie fix up something.”

”Yes, do. Fix up a lot of something,” urged Jack. ”That's the way I feel about it. But do we dine in these?”

By this time Hazel and Paul saw the queer attire of the three young men. Then a part of the situation was explained. The bungalow was one of those roomy affairs, built with a clear idea of affording every summer comfort. Cora was to be the hostess, and with her was the trusted maid, Nettie. There the girls were to visit as they chose, while the boys had taken a camp for themselves near the fis.h.i.+ng grounds of the big lake.

”Now, make that coffee strong, girls,” called Jack as the odor of the beverage came from the kitchen. ”We are almost, if not quite, frozen.”

He cuddled up on a big couch and threatened to do damage to Cora's pretty cloak.

”There's someone on the porch,” suddenly whispered Bess, for a step sounded, so soft and stealthy, that she imagined someone was trying to look in the window.

”Yes, I heard it,” said Ed, getting up and going to the door. A man stood in the shadow, stepping out quickly at the sight of the youth.

”I came for my money,” he muttered. ”You fellers ain't got no right to try to do me that way.”

”Who tried to do you?” answered Ed, in no pleasant tones. ”See here, Peters! This is not our camp, and we don't carry money in our bathing suits as we told you before. If you can't wait until to-morrow for the seventy-five cents you know what you can do.”

”Oh I'll give it to you, Ed,” said Cora, fearful that the man might become abusive. ”I have plenty of small change.”

She went into her room and got her purse. It was a pretty little affair, too frail to have been brought to camp, and too good to have left in the locked-up Chelton house. As she went back to Ed she held out the purse. ”Here,” she said, ”take it and help yourself.

My coffee will boil over.”

Ed and Peters were standing near the edge of the porch. As Ed put his hand out to take Cora's purse it fell over the rail.

”Well,” he exclaimed, ”that's too bad. I must get a match.”

At this Ed stepped to the door to ask for a box, while Peters hurried down the steps to look for the missing trinket. When Ed came back with a light Peters was looking industriously for the purse, but declared he had not seen it.

”Now see here, Peters,” cried Ed angrily. ”You have picked up that purse, and I want you to hand it right over here,” and Ed dropped the cloak from his shoulders. ”If you don't I'll teach you a lesson.”

”Oh, you will, eh?” sneered the man. ”Well you'd better get at it, kid,” and with that he struck Ed a tantalizing blow on the cheek.

Ed clutched the man by the arm. By this time the confusion had been heard within doors, and the other boys hurried out.