The others laughed.
Marshmallow was in the lead, and held the door of the cabin open for the girls to enter.
Doris walked in and then stopped short.
There sat Ollie Weiser!
CHAPTER XVI
A Promise
As the young people entered the cabin, Ollie Weiser quickly arose from the chair, his face brightening at the sight of Doris.
“Oh,” she gasped, “I didn’t expect you. This is—this is Mr. Mallow, and Mr. Chamberlin. May I present Mr. Weiser?”
The two boys and the unwanted visitor acknowledged the introduction.
“I was just telling Mr?. Mallow my troubles,” he said with an apologetic smile. “It looks as though I’m in real difficulties now. That’s what I came out here to see you about, Miss Force.”
“I don’t know how I can help you.”
“They’re threatening, me with jail. All because I happened to light a few matches.”
“Tell us the truth,” Mrs. Mallow commanded. “Did you accidentally set the hotel on fire?”
The magician shook his head, and was such a picture of abject misery, that they could not doubt his honesty.
“On my word of honor, I don’t know how the fire started. I’m sure I had nothing to do with it.”
“Surely they can’t prove anything against you,”
Doris declared, somewhat moved in spite of her dislike for the man.
“One of the hotel guests swore he saw me moving about with suspicious lights. To make it worse, they’ve discovered that I sold my snakes. They claim they have a clear case against me. After we left here yesterday, they took me to McDermott’s office. The old scalawag grilled me, until X didn’t know whether I was coming or going.”
“You didn’t confess anything?” Doris asked anxiously.
“There wasn’t anything to tell. I had a mind to make up some sort of story just to end the interview, but I didn’t.”
“Perhaps you won’t hear any more about it,” Kitty suggested.
Ollie laughed unpleasantly.
“Oh, they intend to make it hot for me, all right. There’s no chance they’ll let the matter drop. McDermott is only waiting until he can get more evidence against me. The dirty crook!”
“But if you didn’t do it—” Dave interposed.
The magician cut him short.
“That won’t make the slightest difference to Morehouse and that lawyer. They’ve decided to put the blame on me, and unless I move fast, they’ll do it, too! I came out here to ask if you won’t help me, Miss Force.”
Doris looked nonplused. She really believed his story, but she did not wish to become involved in an unpleasant affair.
“Why, I don’t see what I can do,” she protested. “You can speak a good word for me. You will, won’t you?”
Doris hesitated and then said reluctantly:
“Yes, I’ll do anything I can for you.”
With an impulsive gesture the magician caught her hand and pressed it gratefully. Dave scowled.
“You’ll never regret helping me,” Ollie cried. “If ever I can return the favor, just call on me.” Doris was greatly relieved when he left a few minutes later. Dave looked as though he could cheerfully have kicked the magician out of the door, but he restrained his feelings until Ollie disappeared.
“What right has he to come here with his troubles?” Dave demanded. “I don’t like the fellow. I wish you hadn’t promised to help him, Doris.”
“What could I do, Dave? He hasn’t a single friend in Cloudy Cove and you know that McDermott is probably an unscrupulous lawyer. I didn’t want to be drawn into the case, but I do feel sorry for Mr. Weiser.”
Dave wisely permitted the matter to drop, though it was obvious that he was a bit jealous of the magician. Doris pretended not to notice this and hoped that he would be sensible. It seemed ridiculous to her that Dave could consider Ollie a rival. She regretted her promise, yet she could not bring herself to the point of ignoring it. Fairness demanded that she aid the magician if possible.
Monday morning brought a more important problem—the affairs of her late Uncle John Trent. Promptly at the appointed hour Doris presented herself at the bank. As she waited outside the President’s private office, she nervously considered her mission. So much depended upon what Mr. Cooke could tell her! If he were unable to furnish her with vital information, then the trip to Cloudy Cove would be a failure.
“Mr. Cooke will see you now,” she was informed by a stenographer.
She followed the girl to the inner office. Mr. Cooke, a well-dressed, stout gentleman of youthful appearance, arose and politely offered Doris a chair. The stenographer withdrew.
“What may I do for you, Miss Force?” the President inquired.
Doris forgot her shyness and plunged into her story. She told of the mysterious disappearance of her Uncle John Trent many years before, and how Joe Jeffery, the noted criminal, had endeavored to pass himself off as a son of the deceased man. She ended by explaining that Jeffery had not made a complete confession, but had told her to go to Cloudy Cove, where she would learn all about the Estate of her uncle.
“John Trent,” the banker spoke thoughtfully. “The name isn’t familiar to me.”
“Then you can’t help me?” Doris questioned, struggling to hide her disappointment. “I was under the impression that my uncle once had a safe deposit box in this bank.”
“It’s barely possible,” Mr. Cooke agreed. “I’ll have one of the clerks bring the records.”
He pressed a button on his desk, and when his secretary appeared, requested her to send Mr. Whitefeld to him with the data.
“Perhaps there is someone on your staff who might remember my uncle,” Doris suggested hopefully, while they were waiting for the clerk. “He must have lived here at Cloudy Cove for many years.”
The President shook his head regretfully.
“The bank has been entirely reorganized since the date you mention. Our employees are comparatively new to the institution. I am afraid there is no one working here now who would remember your uncle’s account.”
After a brief wait the clerk appeared with the required records and placed the sheets before the President. He scanned them for some time in silence. When Doris had almost given up hope, he glanced up with a smile.
“How stupid of me not to recall the name when you mentioned it. I find by the records that your uncle did have an account in this bank years ago. What will interest you more, I find he did rent a safe deposit box from us.”
“What was the last date that the rent was paid?” Doris questioned eagerly.
The banker glanced at the sheet before him. “The rent has been paid to date.”
“To date? What do you mean?” Doris asked. “My uncle is dead.”
“It has been paid by a lawyer named McDermott.”
“McDermott! Why should he pay the rent on the box?”
“Perhaps he has charge of your late uncle’s Estate. I advise you to consult him. It is possible he can aid you in establishing your claim to the fortune.”
“I shall go to see him at once. How long has he been paying the box rent?”
“For twelve years. Rather odd, I admit, but there must be some clause in the will.”
Since the President could offer no further advice or information, Doris thanked him for his assistance and arose to depart. Mr. Cooke escorted her to the outside office.
“Call on me again, if I can be of any service,” he invited politely.
Once out in the street Doris reflected upon what she had just learned. Of one thing she was assured: her uncle did have a safe deposit box there at the bank, and in the years since his disappearance no one had come forward to claim the inheritance.
“I can’t understand why McDermott is paying the box rent,” she thought. “I’d feel a lot better, if he weren’t mixed up in it. It’s unfortunate that we took a dislike to each other so early in the game. I suppose that now he won’t put hims
elf out to help me.”
CHAPTER XVII
A Discouraging Day
Determined to let no grass grow under her feet, Doris made her way to the office of Frank McDermott. She was greeted condescendingly by a highly rouged and over-powdered stenographer, who informed her that the lawyer was out of the city.
“Any message?” the girl demanded bluntly.
Doris said that she would call later, and left the building more discouraged than ever. She felt that she had made the right start, yet she realized that the task of settling her uncle’s Estate was not going to be an easy one. It might be several days before she could see McDermott, and she had already wasted a great deal of time.
Doris glanced at her wrist watch and saw that she still had three-quarters of an hour before it would be time to meet Dave, who had promised to drive her back to the camp. After a moment’s debate she turned her steps toward the old Mayfair hotel.
“I ought to find Mr. Morehouse somewhere around the place,” she told herself.
As she approached the wrecked building, she saw several men examining the ruins, apparently estimating the damage. She recognized the hotel-owner and went over to him.
“Well, what’s wanted?” he inquired bluntly.
It occurred to Doris that now, being no longer a hotel guest, Morehouse considered it unnecessary to be polite.
“I came to talk to you about Ollie Weiser,” she began. “I’m sure he didn’t set fire to your hotel.”
“What can you know about it?”
“I awoke at the first alarm and I chanced to glance out of the window. I could see flames spurting up from below and I’m sure they weren’t coming from Ollie Weiser’s room.”
“Humph!” Morehouse grunted. “I guess you’re a friend of his.”
“Not particularly, but I like to see justice done, and it doesn’t seem to me you’re giving him a fair deal!”
“Let me tell you a thing or two, young lady.” The hotel-keeper faced Doris squarely. “You can’t do that man any good by trying to interfere. We’re going to have a thorough investigation. My summer business is ruined. It will cost me several thousand dollars to repair the building. Someone is going to pay!”
“You’ll have a difficult time getting the money from Weiser,” Doris laughed.
“That’s all right. I’ve got to have a clean slate with the insurance company before they’ll pay my claim.”
“Oh, I see,” Doris said sweetly. “You want to make Weiser responsible! I don’t suppose it has occurred to you that defective wiring or a poor flue may have been the cause of the fire? You will recall that it occurred about the time the fires are started for breakfast.”
“No such thing!” Morehouse snapped. “I say the fire started in that magician’s room and I’ll prove it, too!”
“That remains to be seen,” Doris retorted, hastily retreating, for she observed that the hotelkeeper was thoroughly aroused at her suggestion. “However, I, warn you that unless you conduct a fair investigation, I’ll have a word to say to the fire inspectors.”
She hurried away, fearful lest she create a scene. The hotel-man stood glaring after her.
“Oh, dear,” Doris thought as she walked on down the street, “I’m afraid I’ve made another enemy. At least, I’ve kept my promise to Weiser and I’ve done my best to help him, so my conscience is clear.”
She had agreed to meet Dave in front of the public library, and as it was nearly time for him to appear, walked leisurely in that direction, pausing occasionally to gaze at the shop windows. Passing the offices of the Cloudy Cove Sightseeing Bus Company she would have gone by without glancing in, but a rap on the window attracted her attention. Turning, she beheld Ollie Weiser.
Rushing to the door, he greeted her enthusiastically, asking her inside, an invitation Doris declined.
“What are you doing here?” she inquired curiously.
“I’m a member of the firm now,” Ollie informed her proudly. “Got the job this morning. All I have to do is meet the prospective suckers and feed ’em a line about the beauty spots of Cloudy Cove.”
“I’m very glad you have found a position,” Doris returned politely.
“I took your advice, but I’ll admit I’m not so crazy about the work. Pretty tame after being on the road. Now, if you would just agree to help me with that act I was telling you about! We’d just give this burg the merry ha ha and set forth to make our fortunes.”
“You paint a very glowing picture.”
“Why not do it? We’d make a real team!”
“I beg your pardon,” a cold voice said just behind them.
Doris turned and saw Dave. She had not heard him drive up. By the stony expression on his face, she knew that he was displeased at finding her with Ollie Weiser.
“Ready to go?” he asked in a tone which he tried to make sound unperturbed.
“Yes,” Doris replied with a smile. “I was just on my way to meet you.”
Dave helped her into the car, but said not a word as he started the engine. Usually he was a careful driver, but today he coursed down the streets with almost reckless abandon. They reached the outskirts of Cloudy Cove and still he did not speak.
“What’s the matter, Dave?” Doris asked softly. “Nothing.”
“Surely you don’t think I really like that magician?”
“He’s always hanging around, isn’t he?”
“That isn’t my fault, Dave,” Doris protested. “You could tell him to be on his way.”
“I just happened to meet him today. He was telling me about his new position.”
“Of course it’s no affair of mine! If you like a handsome snake-charmer better than you do me—”
“Oh, Dave, you silly thing! What is the matter with you, anyway? I’ve told you before I don’t like him.”
Mollified, Dave tried to smile. Reaching in his pocket he brought forth a letter and dropped it into Doris’s lap.
“It came on the last mail. I forgot all about it.” Relieved that the disagreement was at an end, Doris ripped open the envelope. The letter was from the Misses Gates. It was three pages long, but contained no information that would assist in settling up John Trent’s Estate.
“I had hoped the Misses Gates might have learned something more from Joe Jeffery,” Doris commented, as she folded the letter.
Dave did not answer. Doris glanced quickly at him, but his face was a mask, betraying no emotion. He paid strict attention to his driving and sent the car down the road faster than Doris would have wished. However, she refrained from reproving him.
“He’s jealous of Ollie,” she told herself. “That’s what’s the matter!”
Doris was tired and discouraged. Moreover, she was in no mood to try to draw Dave out of his sulking. It seemed to her that everything had gone wrong that morning. The knowledge that Frank McDermott was involved in her Uncle John Trent’s affairs disturbed her more than she dared to admit. Several days would probably elapse before she could talk with him, and time was precious. She could not expect Mrs. Mallow to remain at Cloudy Cove longer than two weeks. Her affairs must be settled up in that time, and yet, if things were to go wrong all the time, how could she accomplish it?
Her talk with the hotel-keeper had been most unpleasant. Not only had she made him angry, but she had entangled herself in Ollie Weiser’s affairs. There was nothing she could do now but see the matter through to the end. The magician, too, had irritated her. He was so persistent in his attentions! And now Dave. Why, of all days, must he choose this one in which to become moody?
She was relieved when they drove in at the camp and stopped near the cabin. Dave politely helped her from the car and then vanished.
“What’s become of him?” Kitty inquired, as she came out of the cabin. _“I wanted to ask him to get a bucket of water from the spring.”
“Oh, he’s sulking,” Doris returned with a tired sigh. “Jealous over Ollie Weiser, if you cap imagine that!”
Kitty laughed, b
ut quickly became sober as she observed that her chum was really distressed over the situation.
“Don’t bother about him,” she advised. “He’ll get over it. Sometimes I almost wish I could make Marshmallow a bit jealous.”
Doris smiled at the thought of anyone disturbing Marshall’s serenity, but almost immediately the smile faded.
“You’re terribly discouraged, aren’t you, dear?” Kitty murmured sympathetically. “I know you must have had a disappointing day.”
“I’m all right,” Doris protested. “I just found out I won’t be able to do much about the Estate for a few days.”
“That’s too bad,” Kitty returned, then suddenly brightened. “That will give us a chance to play around. I’ll tell you what! It will serve Dave right, too, for not being more sensible. We’ll slip away tomorrow morning and go fishing. Maybe Mr. Jay will go with us!”
It was not so much the prospect of a fishing trip as it was the thought that the Miser of Cloudy Cove might be induced to accompany them, that made Doris agree to the plan. She had no desire to punish Dave, but she did have a great curiosity to talk once more with the mysterious Mr. Jay.
CHAPTER XVIII
Caught in a Storm
Mr. Jay announced that he would be very glad to accompany the girls on a fishing trip the following morning. Doris and Kitty were abroad shortly after four o’clock. They smiled as they stole quietly by the cabin where Dave and Marshmallow were still peacefully sleeping, thinking how surprised and disappointed the boys would be when they learned that they had been left behind.
Upon reaching the beach they found Mr. Jay waiting for them. He had already unfastened the boat and had put in the fishing tackle and bait bucket.
“Looks like a good morning for fish,” he observed, as they came up.
Kitty and Doris took seats in the boat and the old miser pushed off from shore. Seizing the oars, he struck out for the far shore, rowing with rhythmical ease. The girls drew their jackets closer about them, for the morning chill was still on the cove and an unpleasant mist hung low over the water.
“It’s usually like this early in the morning,” Mr. Jay explained in response to the girls’ questions. “As soon as the sun comes up, she’ll clear away.”
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