Читать книгу The Motor Girls at Camp Surprise: or, The Cave in the Mountains - Penrose Margaret - Страница 6

“Really, were they bogus tickets?” asked Cora after a pause.

“And wouldn’t they let you in?” Bess cried.

“How could they tell they were counterfeits?” was Belle’s question.

“’Cause some one else had our seats, or the seats our tickets called for,” said Miss Magin, the manager of the tea room. “This is how it was. I got all ready to go – it was my day off, you know, and I had a new dress. Had my nails manicured and went to a hair dresser, for I wanted to look nice. My friend is some swell dresser himself, and you know how it is. You want to be a credit when a person goes to the trouble to take you out.”

“I know,” Cora murmured.

“Well, I did look nice, if I do say it myself,” went on Miss Magin, “and I was quite pleased when I handed my friend back a dollar.

“‘What’s this for?’ he asked me.

“‘What I saved on the tickets,’ I told him, and I mentioned how I’d bought two from the fellows who were here trying to sell some railroad transportation as well. My friend was quite pleased, of course, for he has to work hard for his money. ’This’ll do to help get a lunch after the show,’ he said, and I was glad.

“Well, we got to the opera house all right, but they wouldn’t let us in. That is, they wouldn’t give us the seats our coupons called for. We did get in, but when we went to the seats there was a couple already in them.

“My friend thought the usher had made a mistake, and there was a mix-up for a while. Then the usher got the other couple’s coupons and they were the same number as ours. They called the manager, and he said our tickets were counterfeit.

“First my friend wouldn’t believe it, but the manager showed by the other tickets taken in that ours were different. The print was the same, and so was the color of the pasteboard, but it was stiffer than the regular tickets. There was no way out of it. We had been cheated, and so had some other people who had bought tickets from those fellows. There was quite a disturbance.”

“It’s too bad!” exclaimed Cora. “Then you didn’t see the opera after all?”

“Oh, sure I did!” exclaimed Miss Magin. “My friend wouldn’t see me disappointed. He bought other tickets, though they weren’t as good as the ones I had – or thought I had.”

“And they really were counterfeit?” repeated Bess.

“Yes, but cleverly done. It was only the quality of the paper, or pasteboard, that showed,” went on the tea room manager. “If we had gotten there first we might have had our seats without any trouble, though of course when the folks came in that had the real tickets it would have been found out, I s’pose.”

“And you say others also bought the bogus tickets?” Cora asked.

“Yes, quite a few. Got them from the same fellows, too, who told the same story about being hard up for cash, and wanting to sell the tickets they’d purchased.”

“Were they the same young men?” asked Belle.

“The descriptions were the same as the two who were here, and who must have taken your auto, Miss Kimball. When I found out our tickets were worthless I told the manager about your car, though of course he had heard of it from reading the paper. Oh! I just wish I could have them arrested!”

“So do I,” agreed Cora.

“Could they find out where the tickets were printed?” asked Bess.

“Not just by looking at them,” answered Miss Magin. “The bogus ones looked for all the world like the real ones, even to the company’s name that was printed on them. But the opera house manager kept those my friend and I turned in and said he’d make an investigation. Say! I felt pretty cheap when it turned out I’d bought bogus tickets with my friend’s money.”

“Oh! you couldn’t help it,” Cora said, her chums murmuring their agreement.

“Well, I meant all right,” Miss Magin went on, “but I cost my friend more than if I hadn’t a’ been so soft-hearted wanting to help out those fellows who told a hard-luck story.”

“They’ll be caught some day,” declared Bess. “Printing bogus theatrical tickets isn’t easily done. Care has to be used, and sooner or later those fellows will be arrested.”

“The sooner the better,” said Cora. “I want my car back.”

The girls and the manager talked for some little time longer about the happenings of the night before. Presently a man alighted from a taxicab, or rather, one of the town’s few jitney cars, and entered the tea room. He looked rather sharply at our friends – at least so Cora thought – and, taking a seat at a table not far away, ordered a cup of coffee and a sandwich.

He spoke casually to the waitress, and as Miss Magin, as was her custom, walked up to see if the service was satisfactory, he spoke also to her pleasantly, and she replied.

“Was it one of the young ladies here who recently purchased some bogus theatre tickets?” the man asked, after some casual remarks.

“I hope you haven’t any more to sell!” retorted the manager, a bit sharply.

“No. I am a detective sent out by the agency which prints theatre tickets for many shows. This isn’t the first time we have had trouble, and I want, if possible, to get on the track of the persons responsible. Do you mind telling me all you can of this?”

Of course Miss Magin was only too glad to do so, and, incidentally, she mentioned the loss of Cora’s automobile. Naturally that brought our friends into the conversation, and the detective, who introduced himself as Mr. Boswell, went over to the girls’ table. He spoke of having been for some time unsuccessfully on the trail of the bogus ticket sellers.

“Taking automobiles is a new line for their activities, though,” said Mr. Boswell. “This may make it easier to catch them.”

“Of course,” suggested Cora, “we are not altogether certain that the same persons who sold Miss Magin the tickets took my auto.”

“Very likely they were,” declared the detective. “They probably realized that they had done all the illegitimate business possible in this neighborhood, and they wanted to get as far away as they could before the fact about the tickets became known. An auto offered the simplest means.”

“I should have locked the ignition switch,” said Cora. “I usually do when I get out. But we thought we would stay only a little while, so I didn’t do it this time.”

“Too bad,” said Mr. Boswell. “If I get on the track of your car, Miss Kimball, I’ll let you know.”

He made a memorandum of the description of the two men as furnished by Miss Magin, and took his departure, promising to let Cora hear from him in case anything developed.

“More of the mystery,” remarked Bess, as she and the others were on their way back in the automobile. “What with this and what may happen at Camp Surprise, I can see we are in for a busy summer.”

And busy enough the girls were during the next week. There were trunks to pack, messages to send to the caretakers at the camp, dresses to have finished in time, and many odds and ends to be looked after before leaving for so long a time.

“There’s a nice dancing pavilion not far away,” Cora told her chums. “And of course there’ll be one or two formal affairs at a neighboring hotel.”

Hazel Hastings had come on to be Cora’s guest and was staying at the Kimball house. She was the same sweet girl as before, though a little older, and not quite so timid as she had been.

Paul was the same jolly chap, quite engrossed in his automobile business, but not so much so that he could not enjoy the little outing in prospect.

“I’ve sent a description of your car, with the number of it, the number of the engine and other identifying marks, to all the second hand dealers,” he told Cora. “If it’s offered for sale to any one in the dealers’ association I’ll hear of it and there’s a chance that we’ll get it back for you.

“Of course there are some ‘outlaw dealers’ who do not belong to the association, and who might take a chance on buying a stolen car,” said the young automobile agent. “But we can’t help that. I think we’ll get your machine sooner or later.”

Cora was grateful for Paul’s efforts, but she had about given up hope. The police had secured no clews, and, though they professed to be active, there really was little for them to do.

The motor boat had been overhauled and put in shape for the trip up the Chelton river. Though the craft offered accommodations for sleeping on board they did not plan to use the berths on this occasion. They were to make an early start and reach Riverhead, the end of navigation on the Chelton, early in the afternoon. From Riverhead they would go to Camp Surprise in wagons of the buckboard type, made with wooden slats for springs, very comfortable to ride in over rough roads.

The boys were to go with the girls, Jack and his sister acting as chaperons for the others until camp was reached, when Mr. and Mrs. Floyd would perform this office.

Light baggage would be taken with them on the boat, the trunks being sent on ahead.

“And we’ll take lunch along, of course,” Bess said.

“Of course,” echoed her sister. “We don’t want to go hungry any more than do you.”

The day of departure came at last. Bess and Belle were early at Cora’s house, and found her, Jack, Paul and Hazel busy making the final preparations.

The valises and bundles were carried down to the motor boat, good-byes were said over and over again, various cautions were given by Mrs. Kimball and Mrs. Robinson, and then Cora, standing at the wheel of the craft, steered out into the middle of the pretty stream.

“Off for Camp Surprise!” she cried gaily.