Part 7

“Mind!” exclaimed Martha and Jeanette together.

Nancy said nothing at all, but her eyes shone.

“I shall devote the time to rest; for I expect to have a rather heavy, busy season. Do you think you can find enough amusement by yourselves to keep from being bored?”

“Of course we can,” replied Jeanette. “I, for one, love to ramble about a strange place; and I know Nan does too.”

“I’ll hire a car, I think, and practice; so I can take my test as soon as we go home,” announced Martha.

“Are you learning to drive?” asked Nancy in surprise, finding her tongue at last.

“Oh, yes; I meant to surprise you, but the ‘cat’s out of the bag now.’ I’ve had an awfully funny time so far,” and Martha paused to laugh.

“Go on; tell us about it,” requested Miss Ashton, relieved at finding the girls so agreeable about the proposed change of plan.

“Well, I decided that I’d be quite independent and go to a driving school and learn properly. So I enrolled, and I nearly laughed myself sick at the first lesson.

“I found myself in a little room—the ‘driving school’—and there, across the bay window, was the body of an ancient machine, set up on blocks of wood. At the opposite end of the room was a display of ‘ladies’ dresses at $1, $2 and $3 presided over by a fat, elderly woman. She also sold fancy articles—very fancy. A young fellow of twenty-three or four, the son of the fat lady, as it developed, was the instructor. He gave me a few directions, indicating, with the flourish of a pointer at some diagrams on a blackboard facing the ‘car,’ the position of the various gears, and what happened if you ‘stripped them.’ Then he had me climb into the car and learn to start, and stop. Shifting was the difficult thing; and, to make things worse, the clutch pedal stuck. I never felt so utterly silly in my life. He’d say, ‘Now we’re coming’ to a red light. Down with your two feet, and say, don’t forget to put your hand out.’ And I’d stop the already motionless car. ‘Now the lights are green,’ he’d say. ‘Let out your clutch and give her gas; throw in your clutch and shift into second; give her a little start; now throw out your clutch and shift into high; and drive on.’ And on I’d go, in the same spot. ‘Now you’re making a left turn. Stretch out your hand; Straighten your wheel! straighten your wheel!’ and I would madly tug at the wheel, after making the motions as directed. It was a scream but I _did_ learn the shifting operations.

“The second lesson, I was to take on the road; and his mother went along, evidently as chaperon. She called in a neighbor to take care of the ‘shoppe.’ I have an idea that from what she observed in the school she thought my lesson would be too good to miss. I think the boy knew his machine, and probably knew how to instruct green drivers; but, as I learned afterwards, he had just had an accident, and his nerves were ragged. And that day he did nothing but holler at me; and the more he hollered, the more stupid I became. ‘Don’t you see what you went and done there?’ he’d demand. ‘You almost took his wheel off.’ Or, ‘That was an awful way to turn a corner,’ to which the chaperon would contribute, ‘_I’ll_ say it was!’

“After making many corrections, he finally complimented me: ‘You done fine in the school; but you’re awful at steering. I never saw anyone do so bad.’

“I kept getting madder and madder, and finally I stopped the car with a jerk which nearly threw Jake on his nose, and his mamma on our backs, and said just as emphatically as I could: ‘Now see here, I’m not used to being yelled at like this by _anybody_, least of all someone I’m paying. You can just _cut it out_ right now, or I’ll stop taking lessons immediately.’ Jake stared at me blankly for a minute, and then tried to bluster, ‘Say, don’t you like my teachin’?’

“‘It has nothing to do with your teaching,’ I said; ‘but I won’t let you yell at me. So that’s that!’

“After that, he behaved quite like a human being, and didn’t even do more than feebly remonstrate when, one day, I ran over a traffic officer’s foot——”

“Ran over a traffic officer’s foot!” exclaimed Miss Ashton, while the other two girls doubled up with laughter.

“Yes, he stopped me just as I was going to turn into a one-way street, and in twisting the car around so as to keep on straight ahead, his foot got in the way and I ran over it——”

“But Mart,” gasped Jeanette, “what did he do?”

“What could he do? He was peeved, of course; but it was his own fault for keeping his old foot too near my wheels.”

“Peeved—” began Nancy, but she could get no farther.

“But Martha,” protested Miss Ashton, “wasn’t the man hurt?”

“Not much, I guess, except his temper. It was just the edge of his foot, not the whole top of it.”

“I—never—heard—anything—quite—so funny,” stammered Nancy.

“Mart,” said Jeanette, when they had recovered from their spasm of mirth, “won’t you have to have a licensed driver in the car with you?”

“I suppose so,” replied Martha slowly. “I never thought of that.”

“You might send for Jake,” suggested Nancy, with a giggle; “but he would probably have to bring mamma with him.”

“I’ll go with you sometimes,” said Miss Ashton. “I have my card here, and won’t want to rest all the time.”

“That’s indeed awfully good of you,” said Martha gratefully. “I’ll hunt up a place to rent a car this very afternoon.”

“Be careful not to get lost,” warned Jeanette.

“She’ll be all right,” said Nancy, “as long as there is no fog.”

“Somebody would bring me home,” said Martha carelessly.

Then they all parted. Martha went in search of a car. Miss Ashton retired to her own room, well satisfied with the progress of her plan so far. Jeanette had a headache, and decided to try to sleep it off; and Nancy sat in the little park near the hotel, and just dreamed.

“I hired a car,” announced Martha, when they gathered around the dinner table; “and it now rests in the hotel garage, awaiting the touch of my hand.”

“And all you need now is a companion driver,” observed Nancy.

“Well—I—I’ve——”

“Hired one of those, too?” asked Jeanette.

“Not actually hired,” corrected Martha; “sort of borrowed.”

“Who is it?” asked Miss Ashton quickly.

“Mr. Pierce.”

“And who might he be?”

“Why, the purser. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh, you foul weather friend,” said Jeanette, laughing.

“My friend in need, you mean.”

“Well, you might give us an account of yourself,” suggested Miss Ashton.

“I was coming up Main Street for the third time, hunting for the garage, after having asked several people where such an establishment was located, when I ran right into Mr. Pierce, figuratively and literally.

“I had been looking in a window at——”

“Don’t say they were sweaters,” groaned Nancy.

“Or amethysts,” added Jeanette.

“Just for that I won’t tell you what was in the window,” retorted Martha. “Anyhow, after I finished looking at _them_, I turned away rather quickly, stepped on a pebble, turned on my ankle, and nearly fell. Someone grabbed me, and I looked up to see Mr. Pierce looking anxiously down at me. We were near that street which leads to the wharf; so with his help I limped down to the boat, and the ship’s doctor strapped my ankle for me. You are an observing crowd, I must say, not to have noticed all this plaster,” and Martha stuck out her foot to display the bandaging plainly visible through her thin stocking.

“It was all right to do that; wasn’t it?” appealing to Miss Ashton. “My foot was swelling rapidly, and I did not know where to find any of the town doctors.”

“It was perfectly all right,” Miss Ashton assured her.

“Well,” Martha resumed, “the stewardess insisted upon getting me a cup of tea; and while I drank it I told Mr. Pierce how I happened to be wandering around this afternoon. He knew exactly the place I wanted, and as by that time I could walk perfectly well, we went in search of the garage. I selected a car, got in, and he drove it to the park over here; and there we sat and planned my driving practice. I don’t want you,” turning to Miss Ashton, “to think me ungrateful for your offer, or that I am simply passing it by; but I know you want to rest, and it is tiresome work sitting in with a beginner——”

“Won’t it be terribly tiresome for Mr. Pierce?” asked Nancy gravely.

“Don’t you bother about me,” said Miss Ashton. “I understand perfectly. But Martha, how can Mr. Pierce get away from the boat? Doesn’t he go back to Boston to-night?”

“Well, you see, he has two weeks’ vacation. He had one week in Halifax, where his people live—that was how I ran across him there—and the other week is still coming to him. He can take it now, or later——”

“And he’s going to take it now,” finished Nancy.

“Any or all of you are perfectly welcome to sit in the back seat when I practice,” offered Martha generously.

“Thanks, _so_ much,” said Nancy.

Miss Ashton, who had seen the two in the park that afternoon, when she was on her way to the steamer to cancel her reservations, had made a few careful inquiries as to the character of the young man, and had been perfectly satisfied with what she had found out. So she made no objections to Martha’s going about with him.

“Well, don’t go too far away; that’s all, Martha,” she said; “and be very careful; for some of the native drivers here still keep to the left of the road. It is very confusing to one accustomed to the right side.”

*CHAPTER X*

*WHERE IS NANCY?*

“My, but I am glad we didn’t go back last night,” exulted Jeanette the next morning.

“Why?” inquired Martha, as they sat in the sun parlor after breakfast.

“Didn’t you see the fog when we got up?” asked Nancy.

“Oh, yes. It _was_ foggy; wasn’t it?”

“Mart likes fog,” said Jeanette, smiling.

“I’m going for a long ramble along the shore this morning,” announced Nancy presently. “Anybody want to come along?”

“I promised Miss Ashton that I’d go with her to look at some linens she is thinking of buying,” said Jeanette regretfully. “I’m sorry; for I’d love to go. I suppose she would postpone her shopping trip, but I sort of hate to ask her to.”

“I know; she asks so little of us, that one can’t refuse when she does want something,” said Nancy.

“I’d go, but I’m driving this morning,” said Martha. “But we’ll take you part way, if you like. Which way are you going?”

“Oh, out the road toward Lower Woods Harbor, I think. I love that rocky coast. Thanks for the offer of a lift, Mart; but I really want to just ramble along the shore.”

“You won’t be able to see much; will you, Nancy? It’s so foggy,” said Jeanette. Somehow she didn’t quite like the idea of Nancy going off alone this morning; and yet she had no reasonable objection to offer.

“The fog will be entirely gone by ten o’clock, I imagine,” replied Nancy.

“Don’t go so far you can’t get back for lunch,” advised Martha.

“Oh,” laughed Nancy, “I always have a bar of chocolate in my bag for emergencies; so if I walk farther than I expect to, at least I won’t starve.”

“If you get tired, or go too far, just hop on an oxomobile,” suggested Martha.

“In that case, I’m afraid it would be dinner time before you reached the hotel,” said Jeanette.

“Dinner time to-morrow, you mean,” corrected Nancy; “for the poor beasts move so painfully slowly.”

“Better wear something warm, Nan,” advised Jeanette, as they all went upstairs to get ready for the morning’s trips. “It’s quite chilly.”

“But it’s hard to walk in a long coat,” objected Nan. “I should think my knitted dress and heavy sweater would do.”

“Perhaps,” said Jeanette, doubtfully.

“Don’t lose your pocketbook, Nan,” called Martha, as they parted at the foot of the hotel steps later in the morning.

“Don’t fall, Mart,” retorted Nancy.

Laughing, they turned in opposite directions, Martha toward the garage where she knew Mr. Pierce would be waiting; and Nancy toward Lower Woods Harbor.

The selection of a luncheon set took Miss Ashton and Jeanette much longer than they expected; then they spent an hour looking at the fascinating souvenirs in one of the shops devoted to such bait for the tourist. It is almost impossible to tear one’s self away from their attractive displays.

Martha found driving on the dusty, winding roads of Nova Scotia quite a different thing from rolling smoothly over the concrete roads at home. Besides a stream, on one road, they saw a brand new maroon sedan on its side in the water, at the right of a narrow bridge. The bank at the entrance to the bridge plainly showed where the driver had gone over. Martha got so nervous that she wanted to give up the wheel to her companion at once; but he quietly refused.

“Go right ahead,” he ordered. “You’ll have to learn to cross narrow bridges.”

“But that car down there,” protested Martha.

“Don’t look at it. Keep your eyes on the road ahead of the car.”

Martha was not at all accustomed to being told so firmly what to do, and expected to do it. Everyone had always laughed at her and considered her ways and remarks a huge joke. She did not know now whether to obey or not; so she slowed up a bit.

“Go on,” said her instructor. “Keep to the right of the center of the bridge, and you’ll be over it in a minute.”

“Don’t ever let yourself become unnerved at the sight of an accident,” he went on sternly when they had left the bridge behind. “Put your mind on the managing of your own car, and let the other fellow attend to his.”

Long before the lesson was over, Martha discovered that there are instructors; _and_ instructors.

“Where is Nan?” inquired Miss Ashton, when they assembled for lunch.

“I haven’t seen her since we parted at ten o’clock at the foot of the hotel steps,” replied Martha.

“Nor I since she dressed to go out,” added Jeanette.

“It is strange that she is not back by this time,” said Miss Ashton anxiously.

“She said she had some chocolate in her bag,” observed Martha, “and that she wouldn’t starve if she went too far to get back by lunch time.”

“Yes, she did,” agreed Jeanette. “I thought she was joking; but maybe she meant it.”

“In that case, there is no sense in our waiting lunch for her,” decided Miss Ashton, practically. “Perhaps she will come before we have finished. If not, we’ll manage to feed her some way when she does come.”

“Nan always walks farther than she intends,” said Jeanette, as they sat down at the table; “then has to sit down and rest before she can get home again.”

“That’s probably the case this time,” decided Miss Ashton. “There is no occasion for worry about her.”

Jeanette tried to take the same view of the situation; but, in spite of herself, she felt some misgivings. She wished now that she had asked Miss Ashton to put off the shopping trip, and had gone with Nan. However, there was nothing to do but wait; and everything probably was all right after all. As Nan always said, Jeanette was over-inclined to worry.

Martha was so tired after her morning’s exertion that she threw herself across her bed, and slept most of the afternoon. Jeanette roamed anxiously from their room down to the lobby, out to the sun parlor, from which you can get a view of the street in both directions, and back again. Shortly after lunch, the fog crept in again; and the damp, gray, gloomy atmosphere added to her depression. She wanted to go out in search of Nancy, but since she was not very sure of direction in a strange city, she was afraid of losing her way. Miss Ashton had gone to the outskirts of the city to call upon a family whose address had been given her by a Boston friend with an urgent request to see them before she returned.

By four o’clock, poor Jeanette was quite frantic. She was crossing the lobby for the tenth time, when she caught sight of Jim Jackson standing before the desk. Running across the room, she grabbed him by the arm; and he turned quickly.

“Why, Miss Grant! What are you doing here?” he exclaimed in surprise. “I thought you were in Boston by now.”

“No; we didn’t go—we’re still here,” replied Jeanette, incoherently; “but”—her voice almost broke—“Nan’s gone.”

“Nan’s gone! What on earth do you mean?”

“Nan’s lost, I think.”

“When? How?”

“Since morning. She went for a walk, and——”

“In which direction? Do you know?”

“She spoke of going toward Lower Woods Harbor.”

The scene of their last ride together, thought Jim.

“I’ll take the bus and go to look for her. Want to come?” he added kindly; for Jeanette’s distressed little face touched him.

“If you don’t mind. I’ll not be a second.” She dashed upstairs, snatched her own heavy coat and Nan’s, and was down again by the time he had the bus at the door. Miss Ashton had not yet returned, and Martha was still asleep; but Jeanette was far too excited to think of leaving any word for them.

“I was so shocked to see you standing beside me,” began Jim, as he guided the bus rapidly in the direction of the Harbor, “I could hardly believe my eyes.”

“Well, I assure you I was delighted to see you. I have been nearly frantic all the afternoon. Miss Ashton is away off somewhere at the other end of the town, making a call, and Martha is asleep; and I didn’t know what to do.”

“How did you happen to stay over!”

With frequent pauses to examine the roadside more closely, Jeanette told him about their change of plan; and of what they had been doing since he left town.

“Pierce, the purser?” he asked, when she mentioned Martha’s efforts to learn to drive. “Yes.”

“He’s a fine fellow. A bit serious, and stern; but a good scout.”

“I can’t imagine Martha with anyone of that type,” observed Jeanette; “for she’s always been laughed at and given her own way.”

“She’ll never get it with him, unless it happens to be his way too; or he’s convinced that hers is the right way. Pierce doesn’t hold out for his own way through mere obstinacy; but when he’s sure he’s right, there’s no budging him.”

“What’s that?” asked Jeanette suddenly; and Jim stopped the bus almost instantly.

“Where!”

“Down on those rocks.”

Jim scrambled down, and came up with a piece of bright Blue bunting.

“Just a bit of some of the decorations we saw the other day, evidently,” he said, tossing it aside after showing it to her. “If only this fog would lift,” he muttered, as he started the bus again.

“You watch that side of the road,” he presently directed Jeanette; “and I’ll watch this.” They were going very slowly, and scanning every nook and cranny.

In the meantime, Miss Ashton had returned, taken a peek into the girls’ room, and found Martha just rousing from her long nap.

“Where are the other two girls?” asked Miss Ashton.

“I don’t know—” yawned Martha. “I went to sleep right after lunch; for I was dead after this morning. Nan hadn’t appeared then, and Jeanette was waiting around for her. She must have come, and then she and Janie gone off somewhere; for I’m quite sure Jeanette would never have let me sleep until this hour if Nan hadn’t returned.”

“It is very strange that they are staying out until now,” said Miss Ashton, half an hour later, going again to the girls’ room, where she found Martha partly ready for dinner.

“That’s just what I was thinking. Do you suppose Nan didn’t come back, and Janie went to look for her?”

“I don’t know what to suppose. It isn’t like Jeanette to go off without a word to anybody.”

“I know it.”

Worry and excitement gripped Martha, and she had a hard time to keep back the tears.

They finished dressing, and went down to the lobby, where Miss Ashton inquired of the clerk if he knew anything about Jeanette’s whereabouts.

“The day clerk is off duty now, Madam,” he replied, “and I have not seen the young lady this evening.”

“Pardon me,” said the head bell boy, who had been standing near enough to hear the question and answer. “You mean the little blond lady?”

“Yes, yes,” cried Martha.

“She came into the lobby about four o’clock, just as Jim got here——”

“Jim?” demanded Martha.

“Yes, Jim. I don’t know his other name, but he drives the bus. They stood here talking, and then the lady went upstairs for her wrap, and went off with Jim when she came down again. They went away in the bus.”

“Thank goodness!” breathed Miss Ashton, as they turned away after thanking the boy for his information. “Jim has evidently gone to look for Nan, and has taken Jeanette with him. Don’t worry, Martha,” she added, seeing that the girl beside her was struggling with emotion, “Jim knows these roads, as probably no one else does. He will find her, I’m sure.”

“But—but—” faltered Martha, “suppose something has _happened_ to Nan.”

“We just won’t think about such a possibility,” decreed Miss Ashton determinedly.

“But I don’t see _why_ Jeanette didn’t waken me.”

“She probably thought every minute that Nancy would come. You know how it is, Martha, when one is waiting for somebody. Besides, after all, what could you have done?”

“I could have kept her company, at least,” retorted Martha quickly.

“Yes, of course; but she knew that you were tired out. We might as well eat dinner.”

“I couldn’t swallow a mouthful——”

“There is no sense at all in letting yourself get weak and more nervous for want of food,” said Miss Ashton firmly. “So we’ll eat. Order something light, if you prefer; but you must have nourishing food.”

For the second time that day, Martha surprised herself by following the will of another.

It seemed to Jeanette that they had ridden at least twice around the whole peninsula of Nova Scotia before she spied something red upon the rocks below the road.

“Stop!” she cried, excitedly; and Jim obeyed.

“Nan has a red purse. Maybe that’s it,” pointing to the scarlet spot at the water’s edge.

They both scrambled across the rocks with what speed they could, for they were wet and slippery with the incoming tide, and strewn with seaweed.

“It is!” exclaimed Jeanette, as they got closer to the object. “She must be drowned!”

Jim made no reply, but with one long stride, and a sweep of his arm, he secured the little purse.

“For Heaven’s sake!” he cried. “Look!”

The purse was tied to the back of a toy duck.

“That’s the prize Nan won at the bridge party in Digby,” he added.

“You’re right, but how did it come here?” puzzled Jeanette.

“I can’t tell any more than you, but it is what kept the purse from sinking. See how wet it is? Nan must have sent the toy ashore, hoping it would attract attention.”

“But what can we _do_?”

Jeanette was twisting her hands and trying to keep from tears. She must _not_ become hysterical.

Jim was doing some rapid thinking.

“I imagine she’s out on one of those rocks that are high and dry at low tide, but cut off from the mainland when the tide comes in. I can get a boat back there a ways,” waving his hand in the direction from which they had come, “and go out after her. Would you be afraid to stay in the bus if I lock it? I’d take you,” as Jeanette hesitated, “but I can go quicker alone; and, besides, it won’t help matters any for you to get soaked.”

“I’ll stay,” said Jeanette, bravely going back toward the car, and getting in.

“Good for you! You’ll be perfectly safe, and I’ll be just as quick as I can.”

Jim disappeared into the fog, and Jeanette curled up on one of the seats for a good cry. She was soon over it, however, and straining her eyes, trying to see through the thick gray blanket which had wrapped itself around the coast. Once she heard the sound of oars, but she could not distinguish any objects.

The minutes seemed to fairly crawl, and each one was like an hour! No one passed along the road, not even a stray dog. Suppose Jim could not find Nan? Suppose he too got lost? Suppose she had to just stay on and on here?