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. "Cora, are you never
afraid to risk such things?"

"What is there to risk? The land is public, and we have as much
right to follow that track as has Jim Peters or Mr. Jones. I wonder
what Mr. Jones is like?"

"Maybe he would be very nice--a complete surprise," ventured Bess,
at which remark Cora laughed merrily.