“No,” Mabel agreed, “it’s no use. But what are we going to do now?” “We’ll have to wait, that’s all,” was the reply. Shivering and cold, Mabel turned her face to the sky and the rain fell upon it. “Wait here in this rain?” she demanded. “What else is there to do?” asked Shirley. “I am just as anxious to get in as you are, and if you will suggest a plan we will act upon it.” “I haven’t any plan,” replied Mabel mournfully. In spite of her discomfort, Shirley was forced to smile to herself. Her friend’s tone amused her. “I’m going to sit down,” said Shirley, and suited the action to the word. Mabel also sat down in the mud. “We can’t get any wetter nor any dirtier,” said Shirley, “so we may as well make ourselves as comfortable as possible.” “How long do you suppose we shall have to stay here?” “I haven’t any idea. Perhaps all night.” “All night?” “Yes. Of course, it is possible that Dad will have telephoned to town inquiring about us. If he called up the stable and learns that we have started, he may come looking for us. That’s the only thing that will save us an all-night stay in the rain.” “But how would he get across the creek?” “If Dad starts looking for me,” said Shirley, “it will take more than this to stop him.” The two girls became silent, and huddled as close together as they could, for in their wet garments they were chilled to the bone, and the air was very cool, in spite of the season. How long they sat there they did not know, but they jumped at the sound of a horse’s hoofs on the opposite side of the stream. “Who’s there?” cried Shirley, rising to her feet and pulling her chum up after her. “Is that you, Shirley?” came a shout. “Dad!” cried Shirley. “Yes, Mabel and I are here.” “I’ll be across in a jiffy,” called the father. “Be careful, Dad,” called Shirley, “the water is very deep. We tried to get across and couldn’t.” There was no reply from the opposite side, but a moment later the splashing of water gave evidence that a horse was floundering into it. A few minutes later, dripping wet, Mr. Willing pulled up He dismounted quickly, and caught Shirley in his arms. “Where is Cato?” he asked. In a few words Shirley explained. “You are both soaked,” exclaimed Mr. Willing. “You must get home to bed at once.” He turned to Shirley and would have lifted her to the saddle, but she protested. “Take Mabel first,” she said. Mr. Willing knew his daughter, and therefore he did not question her decision. Without a word he turned to Mabel and lifted her gently to the saddle. Then he swung himself up in front of her. The horse plunged again into the creek, and in a few moments Mabel was safe on the other side. “Now you run to the house as quick as you can get there,” said Mr. Willing as he handed her down. Mabel wasted no time, and set out for the house on a run, while Mr. Willing turned his horse’s face toward the stream, and went after his daughter. The second trip was made without incident, and Shirley found herself being borne toward the house in her father’s arms. Wet and bedraggled, she snuggled close to him, and though the trip to the house took but a few minutes, she was half asleep when he called to her to jump down. “Go to bed at once,” he commanded. “If you are not careful you will be sick. You are not strong enough for such experiences.” But Shirley must stop and kiss him first, and then she left him with a word of caution. “I am just as strong as you are, Dad. You, too, are soaking. Mind, you change your clothes at once.” “Good night,” said her father, and Shirley ran into the house. There, at the foot of the steps stood Mabel, waiting for her. The two girls ran quickly to their room. Later, when Mr. Willing looked in to see them, they were sleeping soundly. “Poor children,” he said softly. “They have had a hard night. I shall let them sleep late to-morrow.” But Shirley and Mabel, in spite of the hardships of the night before, were up bright and early, and down in the kitchen talking to “Aunt” Charlotte, the old colored cook, while she prepared breakfast. Shortly after breakfast, Shirley, with an air of great importance, drew Mabel back to their room. “Now,” she said, “I shall explain the plan I have formed to save Jimmy Smith.” “What is it?” asked Mabel eagerly. Shirley seated herself comfortably before she spoke and told Mabel to do the same. Her reply was a question. “Have you ever noticed,” she asked, “how closely Jimmy Smith and I resemble each other?” “Of course,” said Mabel. “Father and I have often spoken of it. Others also have noticed the resemblance. Why?” “Because,” said Shirley, slowly and distinctly, “in that resemblance lies the success of my plan.” Mabel looked at her friend in astonishment. “What do you mean?” she demanded. Shirley smiled a little at her chum’s very evident surprise. “I’ll tell you,” she replied, and settled herself to explain. “You remember, of course, that Mr. Jones,”—she spoke the “Mr.” with a touch of sarcasm—“told Jimmy Smith to communicate with him if he considered his proposition favorably?” “Yes.” “Well, the first thing I want to do is to get the address he gave Jimmy. Then I—not Jimmy—shall communicate with him. I’ll tell him I have decided to accept his offer, and that I should like to have another talk with him; and I’ll sign the letter ‘Jimmy Smith.’” “But what good will that do?” “It will do a whole lot of good.” “But I can’t see——” “It will do a whole lot of good,” explained Shirley quietly, “because when Mr. Jones has an interview with Mabel jumped to her feet in surprise. “You mean that you—” she began. “Exactly,” interrupted Shirley. “Jimmy Smith will know nothing about the matter.” Shirley sat back in her chair and beamed at her friend. “Now what do you think of my plan?” she asked. “I think it’s foolish,” was Mabel’s prompt response. “You are sure to get yourself in trouble. Suppose your identity should be discovered?” “But it won’t. Jimmy and I look too much alike for that. Besides, the very boldness of the plan will work in my favor. In any event, I am going to try it, and I need your help.” “Of course I shall help,” said Mabel, “but just the same I think you would do a whole lot better to tell your father the whole business.” “And have Jimmy Smith thrown off the place? I should say not.” “But if he considers doing a thing like that, he should be thrown off the place.” “No,” said Shirley gravely. “It is his first temptation, and we should do what we can to save him.” “But,” said Mabel, “if you write to Mr. Jones, and he answers, he will naturally address his reply to ‘Jimmy Smith,’ and Jimmy will get it.” “Goodness gracious,” ejaculated Shirley. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She was silent some moments and then continued: “Well, then, when I find the address, I’ll simply write and tell him to meet me in a certain place.” “That will be much better,” agreed Mabel. “But, honestly, Shirley, I don’t think much of the plan. You are sure to get into trouble of some kind.” “Perhaps,” said Shirley with a shrug of her shoulders, “but I’ll get out all right. Besides, I shall be saving Jimmy; and, after all, the saving of one boy’s honor is surely worth the risk.” Mabel was struck with a new thought. “Perhaps Jimmy has already written.” “I hardly think so,” was the reply. “It is too soon.” “But he may write after you do, and thus lead to your discovery.” “I had thought of that,” said Shirley, “and for that reason we must manage to get the address away from him at once. He is hardly likely to remember it, and when he cannot find the card he probably will forget all about the matter.” “But——” began Mabel. Shirley waved her right hand impatiently. “My gracious,” she exclaimed, “don’t be looking for trouble all the time. I know there is a risk, but we shall have to take it. Now the first thing to do is to get the card from Jimmy.” “And how do you expect to manage that?” “Just leave that to me,” said Shirley, airily. “I’ll get it, and he won’t know anything about it.” “All right,” said Mabel, doubtfully, “but——” Shirley cut short these protests. “Come with me,” she said, and led the way from the room. |