Читать книгу Daughter of the Coast Guard - Betty Baxter Anderson - Страница 8

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Cherry, still disconsolate over her ruined scoop, impulsively decided to ask Win to stay all night with her. “M’motive is purely selfish,” she confessed, as the girls left school, “I need cheering, and I need it badly.”

“We’ll stop to ask mother. I’m sure she’ll let me come, since it is Friday, and no school tomorrow.”

Mrs. Travers gave her consent readily, and when Mandy heard the young voices in the hall, she called, “Miz’ Winifred! Don’t you dare go neah my kitchen! Just got that chocolate cake frosted about fifteen minutes ago, and it’s for your dinnah tonight!”

“But I won’t be home for dinner, Mandy,” Win exclaimed, as she motioned to Cherry to follow. “Besides, Cherry’s here, and I know for a fact that she didn’t have a bite of lunch.”

“Why, honey! You do look a little peaked!” The colored cook shook her head ominously at Cherry, when she reached the kitchen. “Now, you just sit right down here while I fix you a little snack. You’d better have a sandwich from that cold roast beef, and here’s some fresh bread and a glass of cold milk——”

Winifred refused a similar lunch, but did look longingly at the triple-layer cake which graced the center of the kitchen table.

“I’ll tell you what, Cherry,” she suggested, as her friend finished the last swallow of milk, “let’s go for a long hike along the beach. Maybe Mandy’ll relent and give us a couple of hunks of cake to take along——”

Cherry giggled. “Grand idea! I’ll just go call Mrs. Morrow to tell her you’re coming home to dinner with me, and to stay all night. Since you aren’t going to be here, perhaps you can get Mandy to cut that perfectly luscious-looking cake.”

Mandy chuckled richly as she reached for the cake-knife. “I swear to goodness, you girls knew all along that Mandy couldn’t help herself when you two got to coaxin’.”

It was fun to walk along the white sands of the shore, and scuff a trail on the smoothly-washed surface. The lake breezes and the brisk exercise removed the last trace of Cherry’s anger with her brother. She’d described the humiliating experience in detail, and had just finished telling of Myra’s inviting Bill to the beach party. “What’s more,” she said, “I’ll bet she heard every word of Bill’s lecture to me on what was wrong with the lead I wrote. And loved it. She was just too sweet all the way back to school.”

“Bill will probably be bored silly at our Dramatic Club picnic,” Winifred pointed out, sensibly. “Of course, it will be fun to have it on the Dillon private beach. I’ve never been in that house, and it’s always seemed so grand and mysterious, that it will be exciting really to see it.”

“I do hope he’s so bored he falls in the lake. But Myra was making such a fuss over his coming that he’ll just be sap enough to think she’s wonderful,” Cherry declared.

Winifred, amused, said, “Well, we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. Hope it’s as grand as it is today.”

“Some day,” Cherry answered dreamily, watching one of the grey fishing tugs, accompanied by dozens of hungry gulls, returning to harbor, “I’ll get a really grand scoop. One important enough for the I. P. A. And just at this moment, I’m hoping it’s one that Bill will have overlooked.”

Winifred smiled, thoughtfully, and waited until they’d passed three dunes in silence before she said, “You might be able to, at that.”

Cherry eagerly studied her friend’s face. “You say that as if you had something in mind. What is it, Win?”

“Well, you know how relieved Dad was to find that those furs were from South America?”

“Sure.”

“He was that relieved, I believe, because he thinks that a ring of smugglers is working in Michigan, and they might possibly be using Lake Haven as a port of entry. That’s why he considered it so important to find that the furs were South American, and not Canadian or English or Danish.”

“Honestly?”

Winifred nodded.

“But what else is being smuggled?” Cherry demanded. “I don’t think anyone has heard about this! What a story it would be if your father were able to discover and capture them!”

“Please don’t say a word about it,” Winifred pled, “because I’m not supposed to know a thing about it. I just heard Dad’s end of a couple of important telephone calls, several weeks ago. They were from Washington, D. C., I know, and he mentioned furs, and jewels, and—and drugs.”

“Gee—what a story!” Cherry shook her head. “But I know it’s too big for me. I muffed this fur business so badly today, that I don’t suppose I should dream of trying again.”

Win shrugged slim shoulders. “It won’t hurt for us to keep our eyes open. I know Dad is rather badly worried.”

The sun was setting, a fiery ball of flame beyond the most distant breakers, when the two girls mounted the wooden steps leading from the beach below “Twin Anchors.”

“Only ten minutes until dinner time, and I’m starving, in spite of Mandy’s lunch and that marvelous cake,” Cherry confessed.

“After all, it has been a couple of hours and about six miles ago since we ate. I’m hungry, too.”

Bill made an enthusiastic attempt to be entertaining at dinner. Cherry knew he was trying to make amends, and she made no further reference to the accident story. Just as dessert was being served, Mr. Hudson turned to Win and said, “You and your father were interested in that accident story, weren’t you?”

“Not directly,” Win replied, “but Dad was relieved, I know, to find out the pelts came from South America.”

“We’ve been expecting,” the gray-haired man continued, “to be able to get some information from the driver when he regained consciousness. Doctor Knowles telephoned this afternoon about four, and said the fellow was conscious. I went over with Sheriff Doty, when he went to question him. And it turns out that he’s suffering amnesia—you know, can’t remember his name or anything leading up to the accident. Memory a complete blank.”

“I’ll bet he’s faking,” Bill declared. “I’ll bet he just doesn’t want to remember where he picked up that load.”

“Say, Win,” Denny said, unexpectedly. “What was the Coast Guard cutter doing at Lake Haven this afternoon? I went out for a little sail about three, and it was just leaving harbor.”

“Why, I can’t imagine!” It was plain that the dark-haired girl was puzzled. “Mother didn’t say a word about it!”