When Jack heard the news he hugged Cora in the very presence of Bess. The sister knew what he meant (it was getting away from the detectives), although Bess was somewhat embarrassed at the extravagant show of affection. Then Jack did what a boy does "when in doubt," he started a series of somersaults and sofa pillow turns, until Cora declared he quite forgot that he was in the company of ladies. With profuse apologies he assumed an unwonted show of dignity, and without another word went upstairs and called up first Ed and then Walter on the telephone, telling each all he knew, and all he could guess about the trip to Lookout Beach, and fairly begged the boys to go along! "I am afraid the girls will have to spoil their trip if we don't go," he said to Ed, who had made a half excuse, "for they really couldn't travel along that road without us!" And this in the very face of the fact that the elders were going along, and that the girls had declared that no boys _could_ go! "Won't there be high jinks!" Jack asked, and he told himself, with a jolly chuckle, as he hung up the receiver and went down to the girls, that if any "jinks" were lacking, it would not be his fault. "Too bad we fellows can't take you out a little way," he said, innocently, as he came downstairs, "but the fact is, we have made plans--our plans are still secret!" and Jack ran down the walk like the big boy that he was in spite of his few years of good record at college. Turning as he reached the street, he shouted: "Oh you--secrets!" then Cora and Bess were left alone. "Well, I suppose I can go," said Cora, finally, "although it does seem strange to leave town in such haste. But after all, if I remain longer, I shall only find more things to be attended to, and I will be just as well off to--escape from them." Bess was delighted, of course. She knew Cora so well, and she had grave fears that the methodical young girl would not run away at such short notice, but, now that she had gained her chum's consent, Bess had need to hurry back and finish up her own preparations. Jack was on his way to the post-office, when he saw the now familiar figure of little Andy. He hailed him pleasantly, and the boy lost no time in hurrying up to the tall young man who waited for him. "Now, Andy," began Jack, "suppose you tell me about those women--those who are after my sister. When did they say they were coming to Chelton?" "I heard them tell the--the men that they would come in on the two o'clock trolley," said Andy, "and that was the reason I thought it would be better fer your sister to be--out of town. Is she goin'?" "I guess she is," replied Jack, much amused at the boy's earnestness. "But she has no reason, you know, to want to avoid any one." Andy hung his head. Then he thrust his hands into his pockets. This latter gesture Jack knew was equivalent to preparing for a sudden shot of information. "It looks bad," said the boy, timidly. "What looks bad?" demanded Jack.