CHAPTER XIX

THE END OF THE DRIVE.

As the Girl Scouts entered the dining-room of their hotel the following day they looked anything but jubilant. The trip through the desert loomed up before them, with its tediousness, its ugliness, its dangerous aspect. For, in spite of everything they said to the contrary, they all secretly believed that trouble was in store for them sooner or later. And what place could be more opportune than the barren waste land of the next three states?

It was Marjorie who sensed the general depression of the whole party and made an effort to dispel it. She wished that she might joke about the boys who were following them, but that subject was still to be kept a secret from Mrs. Hart. Instead, therefore, she reminded them of the rewards they were to receive. Her vivacity, however, failed to draw any spark from the others.

We heard all that before, on the way out, remarked Florence, cynically. And nothing happened. Even if we get there safely, Miss Vaughn will find some other excuse to refuse us.

You don’t seem to think much of our worthy benefactor, observed Ethel. It’s a lucky thing that Alice isn’t along, to hear such opinions of her aunt!

Oh, Alice wouldn’t care! exclaimed Florence.

But maybe Mrs. Hart does, Marjorie reminded her.

The chaperone smiled knowingly; she was not surprised at the girls’ estimate of her friend’s character. Indeed, she had not approved of Miss Vaughn’s hasty action herself, yet she saw the difficulty of her position.

No, I don’t blame you girls a bit, she assured them. I think it was mean to take those strangers’ words in the first place.

And you really do believe that we are innocent, don’t you, Mrs. Hart? demanded Daisy, eagerly.

I certainly do! replied the older woman. If I hadn’t been certain of it, I never would have consented to come with you, for I can’t say that I thoroughly enjoy such a long trip. And then there’s the desert—

Oh, the desert is all right! interrupted Marjorie. We got through it before, and we will this time. Please don’t worry, Mrs. Hart.

No, let’s forget it, urged Ethel, falling in with Marjorie’s effort to raise the spirits of the party. We’re safe for tonight—nothing can happen to us now!

I hope not! sighed Lily, who was never quite at ease.

Long after supper was over the girls sat out on the pleasant porch of the hotel and contemplated the loveliness of the scene, trying, it would seem, to absorb enough beauty to last them during the coming days. Then, as darkness came on they grew more and more quiet until Ethel suggested that they go to bed.

Did you make sure that the car was safe? asked Lily, as usual. It was a habit of hers to make such an inquiry each night before retiring.

Yes, returned Marjorie, laughingly. The garage-man bolted the big door on the inside, and then let himself out through the office. That’s a dead-latch—and he has the only key in his possession.

We ought to be safe then, remarked Daisy, with a sigh of relief. Unless the garage burns down!

Daisy, how can you suggest such a thing! cried Ethel. Wait till we get upstairs! If I don’t put your head under the cold water spigot—

Just try and catch me! challenged the other, darting nimbly up the stairs.

But when the girls reached their rooms they discovered that they were too tired to romp; the seriousness of their undertaking, the prospect of the trip through the desert which was before them, dampened their spirits, and they lost no time in getting into bed.

Marjorie had promised to awaken them with her alarm clock, but she found the summons unnecessary. Long before eight, they were all dressed, ready for their departure.

Who drives today? asked Lily, as they were finishing their breakfast.

Ethel, replied Marjorie, without a moment’s hesitation.

Then, Ethel, remarked Lily, you have to go out and get the car and bring it around to us!

And be sure to have plenty of gas! cautioned Florence.

And don’t forget oil! added someone.

And water! put in another.

Ethel raised her hands to her ears.

That’s enough advice, please! Somebody get my bag, and I’ll meet you all there at the side steps.

Don’t forget the car! teased Florence, provokingly.

The remark was only a jest, uttered with the hope of getting a rise out of Ethel; therefore none of the scouts was surprised to see her appear, two or three minutes later, without the car. It was so like Ethel to return tit for tat, and to keep them waiting, for punishment.

Ethel, please don’t waste time, remonstrated Mrs. Hart, nervous to be off.

Yes—hurry! cried Florence, in a tone of command.

But Ethel only stood still and shook her head.

I can’t get the car, she said, sadly; because the car is gone!

Marjorie looked up sharply; surely it was unlike Ethel to carry a joke so far.

You’re teasing us! she said.

But the look on Ethel’s serious face assured the girls that she was not jesting.

It’s the honest truth, girls, she declared; it’s gone, and neither the proprietor nor the garage-man knows a thing about it.

With the exception of Marjorie, the girls grew hysterical as the meaning of the whole situation dawned upon them. Unsatisfied with Ethel’s scant report, they rushed to the garage to make inquiry for themselves.

It’s a fact, said the man, in answer to their numerous questions, most of which were put to him at the same time. And we haven’t a sign of a clue!

But how did the thief get in? demanded Marjorie. If you have the only key? Was either lock broken?

No, ma’am.

Marjorie looked at him keenly; it was impossible to accuse him of the theft. And yet how else could the car have left the garage? She felt baffled, defeated; here was another mystery which looked as if it never would be solved!

So the whole trip is off! wailed Daisy, bursting into tears as they returned to the hotel. And you girls have all lost your rewards—just on our account!

No, no, don’t feel badly, Daisy, said Lily, putting her arm around the other girl’s shoulder. We’re not blaming you—

By the time they had reached the hotel, the news had spread, and guests and clerks alike came forward with all sorts of offers of help. But somehow they felt at last as if there were nothing to do.

Did you carry insurance? asked Mrs. Hart of Marjorie.

Oh, yes, replied the latter, but not nearly enough to cover the cost of a new car. Besides, it takes a good while to get the money; and even if we borrowed it, we’d never secure a new car in time to make the trip on schedule. She paused a second, evidently making a mighty effort to control herself. We—we—will have to use the rest of our money to go back by rail.

You certainly have had hard luck! commented the older woman, sympathetically. I’m awfully sorry.

The fates were against us! sighed Florence, wearily.

Let’s—let’s go to our rooms again! whispered Daisy. I just can’t help crying—

All right—we’ll go have a good cry! assented Lily. Maybe that will help.

Laughing and weeping at the same time, the scouts made their way to the second floor, to discuss their plight in view of their most advisable move.

Anyway, we don’t have to drive across the desert, remarked Marjorie.

But what shall we do? asked Florence.

Go home, of course, said Ethel.

I’m not so sure of that, put in Marjorie, who was slowly regaining her courage. That may not be practical. In the first place, it might be difficult to secure good accommodations from here back to the east; and in the second place, I’d like to see our friends again.

What friends? demanded Florence.

Aunt Emeline and the Crowells. I’m simply not content to let the matter drop—I mean about all those misfortunes which we met with on the way out. Why, even those two officers thought it was unusual.

I wonder, mused Lily, whether we ever would have found out, if this hadn’t happened. It hardly seems possible—

It wouldn’t have seemed possible on the way out if we hadn’t known that it was a fact, Marjorie reminded her. Imagine having one’s clothing stolen!

But how do you think you can find out anything now? inquired Daisy.

I don’t know—only by some sort of detective work, like we managed last summer. Now my plan is this: to wait here until Jack and John turn up later in the day, consult them, and ask them to help us. What do you all think?

Daisy suddenly heaved a great sigh; she was weary of the whole proceeding.

I’m going home! she announced. Before we get into any more trouble. Who will go with me?

I will! volunteered Florence, immediately. I don’t want to go back and paw around that old lady as if to beg her for a car. I guess we can get accommodations on some train.

I’m with you, Flos and Daisy, declared Ethel, briefly.

But won’t anybody help me? begged Marjorie. Aren’t you a bit curious?

I’ll stick with you, Marj! said Lily. At least until the boys come and we get their advice.

Oh, thank you, Lily! exclaimed Marjorie, impulsively hugging her chum. Now we will find out something!

If there’s anything to be found out! remarked Florence, cynically.

The others lost no time in consulting time-tables, and phoning about reservations, and found, to their joy, that they could leave at noon on a train for Chicago. Marjorie and Lily looked rather wistful as the locomotive pulled out of the station, leaving them all alone, save for Mrs. Hart, in this strange town. They had been secretly hoping all morning that the boys would arrive before the others left; now, as they turned their faces back toward the hotel it was their one thought. But the clerk’s answer to their inquiry was just the same as before: no one had called for them.

Can you imagine what could have happened to them? asked Marjorie. I thought I caught a glimpse of them over at that hotel across the street, about supper time last night. Surely they wouldn’t start without us.

And they must have heard about the stolen car, added Lily. The police are investigating it already.

The girls returned listlessly to Mrs. Hart’s room and found her engaged in the process of packing. She looked up gloomily at their entrance, and informed them that she was returning to San Francisco on the morrow.

And so, she concluded, if you two young ladies want a chaperone, you will have to go too.

I guess it’s the only thing to do, admitted Marjorie, regretfully. So we might as well pack our things, Lily.

In her speech and her thought Marjorie Wilkinson was as near to acknowledgement of defeat as she had ever been in her life.