Part 40 (2/2)

”I asked him what he meant by sayin' the oar was valuable, but he kept puttin' me off. He said he'd tell me some time, but he never did. Then the day he died he sent for me, and was trying to tell me, I guess, but he couldn't. I remember I wondered what was on his mind, but he was too weak to explain. So he died with his secret, and the red oar had it and kept it all these years.

”But the oar broke, or those men and myself broke it between us, and the papers fell out. Now the widder will get her rights.”

And the Widow Lewis did. Leaving the valuable doc.u.ments with Denny, the motor girls and the boys went back to their stopping places--the girls to the bungalow, the boys to the tent.

And such a time as Cora and her chums had in telling the good news to Mrs. Lewis and Freda! The latter could hardly believe it at first.

”Oh, how can we ever thank you!” cried Freda, as, with tears in her eyes, she embraced Cora.

”Don't try,” was the whispered answer.

And so everything came out right after all. The papers so oddly hidden in the red oar proved the widow's t.i.tle to the valuable land beyond the shadow of a doubt. As for the plotters, they were not seen again in that part of the country. They realized that the sharp trick they had tried to play had failed, thanks to the activities of Cora and her friends.

Mrs. Lewis easily established her claim to the land, moved back to her cottage, and the project of spoiling the public park was abandoned.

The factory company was beaten in court and the members of the corporation were forced to pay heavy costs.

Old Denny came in for his share of credit, and he was very happy. His one lament was that the red oar was broken, but he managed to patch it together, after a fas.h.i.+on. And the motor girls got him another dog.

The opening by which the papers had been put in the hollow handle had been cleverly concealed, and, only for the accidental breaking of the oar, might never have been discovered.

It had probably been the intention of Grandfather Lewis to disclose the secret hiding place of the land papers, but he had died before he could do this.

”But 'all's well that ends well,'” quoted Cora the next day, at a late breakfast. ”We have done a little good here by our vacation at Crystal Bay.”

”A _little_ good!” exclaimed Freda. ”I never can thank you enough, Cora.”

”And we'll soon have to go back home--that's the worst of it!” sighed Lottie. ”It is so lovely here!”

”Oh, well, we can come back next year,” spoke Bess.

”And then, too, Winter's coming on--something is sure to happen then,”

added Belle. ”Something always does.”

And what did happen that Winter will be told of in the volume to follow this, which will be called ”The Motor Girls on Waters Blue; Or, The Strange Cruise of the _Tartar_.”

It was the next day. The girls disposed themselves about the bungalow in picturesque att.i.tudes, and the boys sat on the broad porch, telling over again the adventures of the night.

”There's only one point we're shy on,” said Jack, when everything had been told and retold.

”And that's what?” asked Ed.

”We haven't found out yet who the strange woman was who tried to get information out of Freda, and who sent her the 'phone message.”

”Oh, we're just as well off without knowing that,” said Cora. ”I'm sure she was in with the plotters. You know that man Bruce called her 'Confidence Kate,' as if he knew her well.”

”You must have been terribly frightened, when you found out there was no way of getting home from the Junction,” said Marita. ”I think I should have gone out of my mind.”

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