Читать книгу Betty Gordon and the Lost Pearls - Eunice W. Creager - Страница 7

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As Betty Gordon cried out in terror Alice and Norma screamed in sympathy. The whole affair seemed like some dreadful nightmare to the three schoolgirls.

Sidney Gold chuckled wickedly to himself and stepped on the gas. The car shot forward at such terrific speed that it swayed from side to side and was in danger of overturning.

“Make her kiss you, Walt!” Gold cried, with a grin. “Have your fun. You always were a winner with the girls!”

Betty struggled in vain while Alice and Norma looked on, not knowing what to do. Brisket drew closer until his mouth was close to Betty’s cheek.

Then Betty regained a bit of her self-possession. Not for nothing had she gone through those trying experiences in Mexican wilds and elsewhere. She broke loose and gave the young man a violent shove that sent Brisket up against the door of the car.

Crash! It was the sound of glass being broken. Brisket’s arm shot through the window. When he brought it back there was a deep scratch on the back of his hand, from which the blood spurted.

“Ouch!” he yelled. “Oh, my hand! Ouch!”

Betty was startled, and the other girls were speechless. Brisket forgot all about them and started to nurse the cut hand, bringing out a handkerchief for the purpose.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Gold, bringing the car to slow speed. Then he saw the handkerchief stained with blood and stared in wonder.

“A car is coming,” announced Betty, through clenched teeth. “If you do not let us out at once, we three girls will scream as loudly as we can.”

“We certainly will,” chimed in Norma and Alice. “We’ll get the police after you!”

“The little fools are in earnest. We had better let them out,” said the driver to Walter Brisket. He was now plainly alarmed.

Sidney Gold slowed down the car and the girls were allowed to alight. The car the girls had seen coming passed them. The occupants of this car cast curious glances backward, both at the girls and their suitcases resting in the dust.

Walter Brisket leaned out of the gray touring car and looked at Betty with blazing eyes.

“You’re a poor fish,” he sneered, “to object to a little fun! Hope you all walk yourselves lame!”

“Enjoy your limousine!” jeered Sidney Gold as they drove away. His loud, raucous laughter drifted back. “It’s a nice hot day to carry those bags!”

The girls, tired and travel-worn, looked at one another in relief.

“My, I’m glad we’re out of there!” sighed Alice. “I was afraid they wouldn’t let us out!”

“They wouldn’t if Betty hadn’t shoved his arm through the glass.” Then Norma began to laugh hysterically.

“Don’t fool yourself!” replied the shrewd Betty. “If the other car had not come along——”

She gave a little shiver and opening her traveling bag, took from it a clean handkerchief, and began to wipe her cheek. “This has taught me a lesson about getting in cars with strange young men.”

“Yes. Such fellows! They should be horse-whipped! I think we had better walk the remaining distance and take no chances,” said Alice, leading the way, Norma and Betty following.

“It can’t be more than half a mile,” Betty observed. “We can see the town from here.”

Without further adventure the girls reached the station at Maysville. Here they telephoned to a garage to go to the help of poor old Mose, then sat down to wait for their train.

It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when the train bore the three girls safely into Orchard Cove.

“Oh, how beautiful!” exclaimed Norma, as the train slowed down for the station.

Orchard Cove was indeed beautiful—a wild and natural beauty of sea and rock and sky.

Betty, who had an artist’s eye for line and color, exclaimed with delight when she stepped from the train.

“Pardon me, but are you not Betty Gordon?” The voice was sweetly modulated and softened with a slight southern accent.

Betty turned to see one of the most exquisitely gowned and best groomed women it had ever been her privilege to behold.

“Why, she looks like some rare jewel—clean cut, exquisite, sparkling!” thought Betty quickly. Aloud she said wonderingly:

“Yes, I am Betty Gordon.”

“Then these are your friends, the Guerin girls. I am Mrs. Raymond.” The lady shook hands warmly with the three girls. “Welcome to Orchard Cove. I came down in our own car for you. Mr. Raymond had intended to meet you, but he was detained at the last minute. Just follow me. The car is not far away. Rastus, take the bags!”

The girls followed the exquisite little figure in admiring silence. The colored chauffeur brought up the rear.

“We learned about the wreck, Betty,” said Mrs. Raymond, stopping a moment and looking back. “I was worried, and it was a great relief to see you step from the train.”

Mrs. Raymond laughed and shook her golden head at Betty’s bewilderment.

“Your Uncle Dick has shown me your picture, and I knew you instantly. Poor man! We were so sorry to get Richard’s wire saying he could not come, but we were delighted that he was sending you, anyway! You know, Mr. Raymond and I have been lifelong friends of your Uncle Dick’s.

“But tell me,” she inquired, with a quick change of expression that Betty grew to feel was one of her chief charms, “how you made such good time when your train was wrecked? We’ve been meeting each train, to make sure we’d be on hand to greet you.”

A spirited account of their adventures followed. Mrs. Raymond was much interested. By this time they had reached the car. The colored chauffeur opened the door of the limousine and after Mrs. Raymond and the girls were seated deftly piled the traveling bags at their feet.

“Rastus will come back for your trunks,” said Mrs. Raymond as the car glided smoothly away.

Betty watched the trim little figure on the front seat and recalled what her Uncle Dick had told her of Mrs. Raymond. Both Mr. and Mrs. Raymond had come of old and cultured families who, having many foreign investments, had lost their fortunes during the World War.

Patricia Raymond, who had reigned so graciously in society, now turned all her wit and talents to the task of helping her husband gain a firm financial footing.

Richard Gordon held by far the greater financial interest in Raymond House, the leading hotel at Orchard Cove, but it was Patricia and Paul Raymond who were making it famous.

“Now girls,” the musical voice of Mrs. Raymond broke into Betty’s train of thought, “we are at the Washington Entrance to Raymond House.”

The car glided under the beautiful white arched entrance.

The Raymond House, a large white house of colonial architecture, was built on a high hill overlooking the sea. To the southward and back of the Raymond House stretched acre after acre of apple orchards. Paul Raymond’s apples were fast becoming as famous as his hotel.

“Welcome to Raymond House!” exclaimed Mrs. Raymond brightly.

She ran on before. A man in livery opened the door. Mrs. Raymond stepped back and the girls entered the foyer of the hotel, she following.

“Now, girls,” Mrs. Raymond said briskly, “first thing, you must send messages home to your people that you are safe and sound! Come with me and we will get that matter attended to. Then you must register at the desk and get the keys to your rooms.”

These matters were soon attended to, and the girls, accompanied by Mrs. Raymond, entered the elevator. George Washington Sims, a colored boy of about sixteen, grinned a delighted welcome.

“Here we are!” exclaimed Mrs. Raymond a moment later. “Third floor, Room 48 and Room 49. Two rooms, each with private bath. The two bedrooms, separated by a folding door, can be thrown together. I thought you would like that. I hope, girls, you will be very comfortable here.”

“Oh, thank you! Everything is lovely, Mrs. Raymond. I am sure we could not be otherwise than comfortable,” returned Betty sincerely.

After Mrs. Raymond left them, Alice sank down in a soft-cushioned chair and looked around. “My, doesn’t this look nice and homey?” she exclaimed.

The room was furnished in blue and gold. A fine old four-poster bed invited repose, and near the windows a couch upholstered in soft gray was piled with pillows of blue and gold. A dresser, several small tables and chairs completed the furniture, but for ornament there was a big fern in a pot near the window.

Betty peeped into the adjoining room. “Just like this one, only two beds,” she reported; “so I guess this one is mine. Now if we don’t have to put up with Mrs. Pryde Calott, everything will be lovely.”

“Oh, perhaps she won’t come to the Raymond House,” said Norma hopefully.

Betty went over to the window and exclaimed with delight at the beautiful view. Norma and Alice joined her. Their bedroom windows commanded a view of the ocean and the bathing beach. The swish of the waves as they beat against the shore was plainly heard. Far out at sea, an immense ocean liner heading for a larger port plowed majestically through the foaming waters. A number of private yachts studded the cove, and the bathing beach was spotted with gayly colored figures enjoying the surf.

For miles along the shore stretched the Boardwalk, where hundreds of people promenaded daily.

“Isn’t it lovely and restful?” sighed Alice. “I am going to put on my kimono, sit here in this comfy chair, enjoy the view and the sea breeze until it is time to dress for dinner. I feel a little tired.”

“No wonder, Alice, after your fright with that snake!” Betty looked at her friend with anxiety.

Alice laughed.

“I was more frightened at those awful men,” she acknowledged. “Betty, I would give anything for your pluck and judgment.”

Betty looked at Alice with a rueful smile.

“I may not be lacking in pluck, but don’t say anything about judgment. I should never have gotten into that car.”

“Well, you knew what to do to get us out of the scrape, anyway,” laughed the loyal Norma. “Come on, Betty, let’s explore our rooms.”

Alice donned her kimono and sat by the window while Betty and Norma went on a tour of investigation around the two rooms. The two girls exclaimed with pleasure at the many conveniences, the up-to-date baths and showers, the big roomy closets. The trunks were brought up promptly and left in Betty’s room.

After chatting a while together, the girls took baths in their spotless bathtubs and donned their simple evening dresses just as the gong sounded for dinner.

“Betty, you look sweet in that soft blue crêpe—I love you in it!” exclaimed Norma.

“To say nothing of how pretty you two look!” laughed Betty, in return.

In truth the girls, though simply gowned, did look pretty, Betty in the soft, becoming blue and Norma and Alice in white. Alice’s only ornament was a short string of pearl beads around her neck, but Norma had added color to her costume by fastening a big, pink, velvet rose on the shoulder.

When the girls entered the dining room, which was on the first floor, the room was crowded with beautifully gowned women and men in evening dress. An orchestra was playing a popular song of the day.

Betty’s brown eyes sparkled with interest as she looked around at the gay scene. The girls were given a table which commanded a view of the sea.

Suddenly Norma grasped Betty’s arm and said in a tense whisper.

“Look! Behold Mrs. Pryde Calott—at the next table!”