The Motor Girls at Lookout Beach; Or, In Quest of the RunawaysPenrose, Margaret
General
The Motor Girls at Lookout Beach; Or, In Quest of the Runaways
Penrose, Margaret
Automobile travel -- Juvenile fiction; Girls -- Societies and clubs -- Juvenile fiction; Runaway children -- Juvenile fiction
Jack hesitated. If he followed in, the unknown one could slip out on
the other side, and get away without the possibility of being
overtaken.
Jack waited.
There was not a sound, or a movement.
Evidently the substance of the shadow was waiting for him to cross the
hedge.
At this juncture he wished he had called the boys to aid him in the
search. But it was too late to regret that omission now.
It seemed fully five minutes before either he, outside the hedge, or
the figure within the green, moved. It was a silent challenge. Jack
was determined now not to take the initiative.
"I can stand here until morning," he told himself. "But I will not get
out of range of that person by any false move."
A full minute passed.
"Guess it has gone to sleep," he thought, at the same moment trying to
suppress a distinct yawn.
Then he thought he saw something move. He stepped cautiously up to the
trembling leaves. Like a shiver that swept through the silent
darkness, the branches barely swayed.
"It's creeping along," he surmised. "Now, I have to move along with
it."
With his steps quite as noiseless as those within the hedge, Jack did
move toward the roadway. There the hedge would end, and something had
to happen.
"Queer race," he was thinking, when all of a sudden, without any
warning, the shadow sprang out of the branches, darted across the path
not five feet from where Jack stood spellbound, and dashed on back to
the hotel.
"Good-bye," called Jack lightly, realizing now that the apparition was
nothing more or less than a girl. "Think you might have let me take
you, though."
He knew now that further watching would be useless, as the broad
piazzas of the hotel, with endless basement steps, afforded such
seclusion that he would find it impossible to penetrate, so he, too,
turned back, and crossed the other side of the hedge, as he had done
in coming down. Something in the bushes caught his eye, even in the
shadows. It was a bundle of some sort. He stooped and touched it. Then
he rolled it over. It was very light, and a small package.
"Guess it won't bite," he thought. "I may as well take it along," and
with this he very cautiously picked up the package, and walked back to
the hotel.
CHAPTER XVII
AT WAYSIDE INN
The light still gleamed under the door of the alcove room. Jack was
not sorry that he would have company in his bundle investigation.
"But Walter and Ed will blame me for not giving them the tip," he told
himself. "We surely could have bagged that wild bird, if there only
had been some one on the other side of the hedge."
Ed opened the door before Jack had time to knock.
"Where in the world have you been?" demanded the young man, who stood
within the room, clothed in the splendor of a real athlete. "We had
just about given you up. Who is she?"
"Search me?" replied Jack, laughing at the fitness of the slang and at
the same time apologizing for its vulgarity. "If I only knew who she
was I'd feel better."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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