"
"Indeed!" exclaimed Cora. "That's a queer story for a man like
Peters. But I'm going to his shack first, even if he is not at
home. It would suit me just as well to find him out on my first
visit."
"But that young feller who lives with him? He's just as sassy as
Jim, when he's around the shack. Of course he don't stay there
always, as Jim does."
"Who is he?" questioned Cora. "I hadn't heard of such a person."
"Oh, he gives the name of Jones but it don't fit him fer a cent. I
wouldn't be surprised if his real name was Macaroni or even Noodles.
He's foreign, sure."
Cora laughed. "And he's young, you say?"
"A lot younger than Jim, but he could be that and yet not be very
young, fer I guess Jim has lost track of time," replied Ben. "Yes,
Jones is a swell, all right."
"But the shack? Where is it? I must be off," insisted Cora.
"It's quite a trip down the lake. Then you come to a point. Go to
the left of the point, and when you come to a place where the
willows dip into the lake, get off there. The shack is straight
back in the deepest clump of buttonball trees."
"All right Ben, and thank you," said Cora as she started up the
motor. "I feel like exploring this morning, and your directions
sound interesting. I will come back this way to show you that I am
safe and sound," and with that she sheered off.
"I hope it will be all right," faltered Bess.
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