CHAPTER XVII

THE TELEGRAM.

As soon as the girls left the dining-room they one and all made excuses to go to their own apartments. With the exception of Daisy and Florence, whom Marjorie had informed before breakfast, they were all eager to hear of the project in detail.

Tell us all about it, Marj! begged Ethel, when they were seated on the attractively furnished screened porch which opened out of Mrs. Remington’s boudoir. We want to hear everything!

Well, began Marjorie, I suppose that the foundation of my plan was laid long ago—when Alice conceived the idea that Mr. McDaniel and Mr. Cryton in their red racer were trying to spy on us. I didn’t exactly believe that, but I did wonder whether Miss Vaughn—or Aunt Emeline, as we called her all along—had arranged for obstacles to be put in our way. Then, when we got here, and learned accidentally that her nephews would have benefited by our failure, I began to suspect not only the Crowell boys, but Mr. Cryton and Mr. McDaniel as well.

Nevertheless, she continued, I never would have given the matter another thought if we had all received our cars as we deserved.

You’re not logical, Marj! interrupted Florence. How can you possibly drag Vincent and Clyde into it, when all they do is to affirm our innocence? These two new men are to blame—and they aren’t members of the fraternity that benefits! How do you account for that?

Because, answered Marjorie slowly, I think it’s all a frame-up, a plot against us, and I think Wallace and Hitchens were bribed!

Oh, no, Marj! protested Daisy. Surely not! Not by Clyde—I’m sure of that!

But just look back, said Marjorie, and think over our mishaps. First the puncture due to tacks—scattered by whom?—next the delay at Mae’s, and later at Chicago and the directions which led us through the mud; the stolen food and uniforms—

Marj! exclaimed Lily; surely you couldn’t blame the boys for that! They’d never take our clothing!

Why not? demanded Marjorie; for who else would? And they knew our route, and the conditions of our winning the rewards!

And how about the bandits and the poor woman in the desert? asked Florence, mockingly.

Well, I’m not sure of them—those were things which are likely to happen to anybody. And yet the boys may have had part in them, for the bandits were masked and you remember that the woman received a one hundred dollar bill at that hotel—perhaps as a bribe!

You certainly have an imagination, Marj! cried Daisy. I can’t believe that!

Well, maybe that is too much, admitted the other.

But tell us how you persuaded Aunt Emeline to give us a second chance, begged Alice.

Marjorie proceeded to relate the conversation of the previous evening, stating that her hostess had only made her decision known that morning. The girls congratulated her heartily upon the brilliancy of the idea, and the success in putting it across.

But if you believe that all these things were planned against us, do you think that it would be safe to attempt the trip back? asked Lily. Wouldn’t Mr. McDaniel and Mr. Cryton lie in wait for you again?

No, I don’t think they would, answered Marjorie. They are improving under Daisy’s and Flos’s influence. If we have any interference, it will be from the Crowell boys themselves, for they won’t care about losing this new slice from their inheritance. In fact, I almost believe that if we persist in making the trip, they may resort to drastic measures.

But you’re not thinking of giving it up for that reason, are you, Marj? asked Lily.

No, of course not! Can you see me?

Well—hardly. Only you really don’t want to take any dangerous chances—the trip is enough of a strain without that. And besides, what could you do to protect yourselves?

I have a plan.

Of course you have, Marj! exclaimed her chum, admiringly. Don’t you always? Do tell us about it!

Yes, do! pleaded two or three of the others.

Marjorie’s eyes twinkled mischievously; she loved a mystery.

Not yet, she replied, because it isn’t formulated. Wait till I send a telegram—

A telegram? repeated Lily.

Where? To whom? demanded several of the others.

To—Chicago! answered Marjorie, slowly. But I can’t tell you to whom!

But who is there in Chicago that could help us? asked Ethel.

I’ll tell you when I see whether my plan succeeds, she announced, smilingly. Until then—it’s a secret. Are you all agreed?

Certainly! they all affirmed, with characteristic loyalty.

The ten days that followed were not particularly pleasurable for any of the party. Marjorie, in particular, waited with impatience the day of departure, for a return telegram from Chicago had promised her the assistance she needed. But though the girls were all curious, they, true to their promise, refrained from asking questions.

Miss Vaughn had arranged a picnic for the last day of their visit, and Marjorie, who had other plans for herself and Ethel, although the latter was as much in the dark as any of the others in regard to them, found some difficulty in getting herself and her companion excused. Finally, in view of the fact that the following day would be a strenuous one and that they still had some arrangements to make, they slipped off and took a taxi to the station.

Are you going to let me into the secret at last? inquired Ethel, as they left Miss Vaughn’s grounds.

Marjorie nodded, gaily.

You’ll know when we get to the station, she replied.

The station? Somebody is coming?

Two somebodies, corrected Marjorie.

Ethel knew that there was no use in plying her companion with questions, for Marjorie was enjoying her suspense. The distance, however, was short, ten minutes later the girls had dismissed the taxi and were hurrying up the station steps. Hardly had they pushed open the door before two familiar figures rushed towards them. It was John Hadley, and Marjorie’s brother Jack!

Hello, Sis! cried Jack joyously. We sure are glad to see you!

Sh! Jack! Not so loud! cautioned his sister, enjoying the expression of amazement on Ethel’s face. We’re not supposed to be here, and we don’t want to be seen or recognized. It’s a plot, you know; and it may fall through. We’re not even telling the other girls about you.

A plot? repeated John, who knew only the brief message of the telegram which called for help. Tell us about it—

Let’s go eat somewhere, suggested Jack, and hear the whole story then.

As soon as they were seated in a cozy little tea-room of Marjorie’s selection, and had given their order to the waiter, she told her story from beginning to end, concluding with her suspicions concerning McDaniel and Cryton and the Crowell boys.

But granted that theory is correct, and they did try to block you on the way out, said Jack; what good can we do now? How can we help you at this late stage of the game—?

You can help us very materially, answered Marjorie. Because I expect some sort of attack on the way back. Those Crowell boys are never going to let us have those cars and some of their inheritance without a struggle.

Then you expect Cryton and McDaniel to hold you up again?

No, I think they’re out of it. I am looking for trouble from the Crowell boys themselves.

Couldn’t you fool them by taking a different route? suggested John.

We might, though I hardly think so, replied the girl. And besides I would rather catch them and get a confession—it’s the only way we’ll ever get it. So Ethel and I have been careful to tell Miss Vaughn all the details for the trip in their hearing—

Have they said anything, one way or the other? asked Jack.

Yes, they’ve tried to discourage us, answered Ethel. They’ve told us of several instances of robberies and hold-ups, and have been warning us of danger.

And they always tell these stories in front of Miss Vaughn, added Marjorie.

John nodded his head significantly; the case against the Crowell boys appeared as clear to him as it did to Marjorie.

And just what do you want us to do? he inquired.

Get a machine and follow us, going when we go, and stopping when we stop, but never giving any sign of knowing us. And we’ll have a signal—

Yes, the scout whistle! laughed Jack. Just like last summer!

Three blasts! put in Marjorie.

Three blasts, and we’ll be at your side! cried Jack, his eyes glowing in anticipation of the adventure. And what are our chances against these two young men in a hand to hand struggle?

Oh, splendid! exclaimed both girls immediately.

Ethel’s face suddenly darkened.

Marj! she exclaimed, in distress, If we accepted help from any boys we’d forfeit our chance of earning the cars!

I don’t think so, reasoned Marjorie; not this time. If we caught the Crowells, we’d get a confession that would clear us and prove that we deserved the cars for our trip out.

And you actually think those boys would go to the extent of attacking girls? asked John, incredulously. How would that look?

Oh, they’d be masked, or disguised, or something. They’d do most anything to keep all that money for themselves!

And now, concluded Marjorie, unfolding a piece of paper from her hand-bag, here are your directions and your map. Follow these closely—you see they even give the hotels where we intend stopping—and we shan’t see each other to talk to again until the end of the trip, or—if something happens!

And won’t we feel silly if nothing does happen! remarked Jack.

Silly, perhaps, yes, agreed Marjorie, rising; but the whole Girl Scout movement will benefit, and that is worth while, isn’t it?

It certainly is, replied John, holding the door open for the girls to pass out. Then, without further delay, they hurried back to Miss Vaughn’s.