Laura Lee Hope

“ Never before in all their rather adventurous lives had the Outdoor Girls been so thrilled. It seemed incredible to them that their Old Maid of the Mountains whom they had befriended out of pity should turn out to be the heroine of such a genuine romance.
As for the little old lady herself, she professed an eager desire to get back to the city, and although she gave as her reason a natural wish to have legal matters in regard to her dead brother’s will settled, the girls knew that in reality she was hoping to meet James Barton, the wronged lover, of her younger days. ”

“ Don’t be close, old man. Remember, we’re all your friends.”
“I doubt it,” retorted Allen, and over the heads of the “rabble” exchanged a glance with Betty. “I judge from your remarks,” he said then, “that Betty has told you about my mysterious old client and his taste in wills.” His voice lowered and his face took on the grave look which it so often wore of late. “The poor old man has made his last will. He is dead.”
A silence fell upon them all and they felt suddenly and solemnly depressed. Death, even the death of a stranger, is not a thing to be taken lightly.
Mollie was the first to rally. ”

“ Those who are familiar with the Outdoor Girls will remember when the mischievous, adorable twins, Dodo and Paul, had been kidnapped by a villain who demanded an outrageous sum of money for their safe return and how the same twins had been rescued from a ship, wrecked on the rocks of Bluff Point near the cottage where the Outdoor Girls were summering. And it was true that whenever Mrs. Billette or Mollie were tempted to be impatient with the twins they remembered the despair of that dreadful time and dealt gently with the erring Dodo and Paul, aggravating little wretches that they could be. ”

“ I wonder if she’s all alone somewhere, sick, maybe, or too old and feeble to work any more.”
“I hope she’s not,” replied Mollie, adding with a laugh: “It would be much pleasanter to think that perhaps she has come into a fortune, or something, and so doesn’t have to work for a living any more.”
“Well,” sighed Grace, “as long as we’re not apt ever to hear of the old soul again, we might as well take the cheery view. Have some more fudge?”
“Is this all you have?” asked Mollie, looking anxiously at the fast dwindling supply. “My, I never tasted such delicious candy in my life.” ”

“ Although,” she added bravely, as though once more afraid that the girls might be led to pity her, “I am not often lonesome. I have my work, you see.”
“Work?” repeated Betty vaguely. Somehow it seemed impossible that this frail little creature was able to work.
“Yes,” returned the little old lady, interpreting her puzzled look, “I do needlework—a great deal of it. Though,” she added, with a sigh, “it is hard for me to do it lately. My eyes are not as good as they were. Take care of your eyes in your youth, my dears,” she finished, looking around at them earnestly. ”

“ This was a large wire grill—rusted and old, to be sure—but a gift of the gods, nevertheless.
“Look here, girls! Who says we’re not lucky?” she fairly crowed, holding up the “find” before their enraptured eyes. “If we don’t have a good supper to-night, then it won’t be because we haven’t a per-fect-ly marvelous stove.”
“Hooray!” cried Mollie, waving a frying pan joyfully about her head. “Which shall it be, Little Captain? Bacon and eggs or potatoes and onions?”
Betty’s eyes twinkled. ”

“ Grace reappeared through the trees, stuffing something into the pocket of her coat which Mollie recognized as Betty’s toy pistol.
“Oh, Gracie, ’tis to laugh!” she chuckled, as they started on their hike. “What do you expect to kill with that thing? A couple of rabbits for supper, maybe?”
“Oh, keep still,” said Grace, feeling a bit sheepish. “If I like to lug the thing along what difference does it make to you? I wish,” longingly, “that Betty and Amy were back.” ”

“ It won’t be so easy to do after dark.”
“Beds,” echoed the girls, staring up at her. It was honestly the first time they had realized the need for beds.
“That’s what I said,” returned Betty, whimsically. “They may only consist of a couple of100 blankets apiece but we can call ’em what we like.”
“What’s in a name?” murmured Grace, adding wistfully: “Oh, my comfy home and my still more comfy bed.”
“Stop it,” commanded Mollie. “You know very well, home was never like this. What if we do have to sleep with nothing but blankets between us and the cold, cold ground for one night? ”

“ The only fact that they knew positively was that for some mysterious reason and in some mysterious way the engine of the little boat had “lain down”—gone suddenly and irrevocably “dead.”
“Well, I’ll say this is our unlucky day,” said Mollie, disgustedly, straightening up from her work on the engine to face the Little Captain. “Beginning with engine trouble, then tramps and now more engine trouble——”
“Well, there’s one comfort,” spoke up Amy, trying to be optimistic. “We’ve had about all the trouble we can have. Things can’t be any worse.” ”

“ But in the joy of the moment the girls forgot all about their resolution, with the result that the boys were treated to a most riotous welcome.
“Seems as if we were getting pretty popular around here, fellows,” said Roy, with a grin, and Mollie promptly attempted to put him in his place.
“Any man would be welcome under the circumstances,” she said haughtily, and not till afterward did the boys think to ask her what she meant by that statement.
As for Allen, he made straight for Betty where she had lingered a little behind the others. ”

“ Allen reminded her. “The old fellow has considerable of this world’s goods and since he can’t hope to take them with him where he’s going, it’s only sensible to dispose of them justly before he goes.”
“Oh,” said Betty, pityingly. “Is he dying, Allen?”
37 The young lawyer nodded soberly.
“And his dying isn’t the most pitiful thing about it,” he said. “Everybody has to make up his mind to die sometime and he has lived longer than most. But what worries me,” he paused and the frown deepened, “is that he has something on his mind that, it seems, he can’t bring himself to confide to anybody. ”

“ They giggled, and Mollie, taking out her own rather soiled and grimy handkerchief, carefully and gravely wiped another spot from Grace’s suit.
“Stop your nonsense,” cried Betty, her eyes searching the gray and lowering sky. “If we don’t get busy we may all be drowned. Amy,” she added, in the tone of authority she always used when they faced an emergency, “get out those oars, will you? I’m going to give you some elbow work to do.”
As Amy obeyed, the girls thanked their stars for Betty’s thoughtfulness. ”

“ It will be all the more fun.”
As Betty began to spread the blankets within the shelter of the tent Amy came in to see if she could help her and Betty welcomed her gratefully.
“I can’t seem to manage the old things alone,” she said. “The blankets are so big and the tent is so small. Spread down that corner, will you, Amy—there’s a dear. Now, I wonder,” she paused to consider, “if one blanket under us and one over will be enough.” ”

“ I wish you would take them with you into the woods, Mollie. It would be all right for them to run wild there. They could break nothing but their own heads.”
“Which they would certainly do,” said Mollie, with a wry little face. The idea of having her fun hampered by the mischievous antics of the twins was not a pleasant one.
At that moment there came a terrific bumping and thumping down the stairs and with one accord Mrs. Billette and the four girls rushed to the door.
“It is done at last!” wailed Mrs. Billette. “This time they have kill themselves!” ”

“ You and Amy, say, go back to Deepdale for a tent; and then what do Grace and I do?”
“Nothing, I guess,” dimpled Betty, “except see that the lake doesn’t run away while we’re gone. We may be away over night,” she added, more soberly. “If we can’t get in touch with the boys right away, we might be too late to make camp again before dark. You wouldn’t be scared?” she asked.
“Scared!” Mollie hooted the idea scornfully. “What’s there to be scared of? You go ahead, Betty. You needn’t worry about us.” ”

“ However, Betty, with Amy’s help did finally get her to consent to take some money for the feast—although it was only a tenth of what it was really worth—and when the girls turned once more toward the cabin of the Old Maid of the149 Mountains it was with a warm feeling about their hearts.
“There are so many lovely people in the world,” said Amy, contentedly as, with the basket between them, they toiled up the steep ascent.
“I only hope,” said Betty in a low tone, as they stopped before the door of the little cabin, “that our little old lady won’t object to our contributing our feast.” ”

“ Betty had expected Allen to be rather mildly interested, but she was not prepared for the sudden keen interest he showed when she mentioned the exquisite needlework of the little old lady.
“What kind of embroidery does she do?” he queried, excitedly.
“Why,” said Betty, puzzled at his attitude, “she does all kinds——”
“Any special design, or pattern?” asked Allen, impatiently.
“Why,” returned Betty, “I do recall that she seemed to have a special fancy for butterflies and roses. It’s Danish embroidery she does, very elaborate and a great deal of open work. But why, Allen? ”

“ A few minutes later, however, she repeated the action, standing so long by the tent flap this time that Betty was moved to comment.
“What’s the matter, honey?” she asked, adding flippantly: “If you’re waiting for the boys you’re wasting your time. They’re not due till to-morrow, you know.”
Instead of answering, Mollie made an imperative little gesture with her hand. Startled, Betty joined her silently and was still further alarmed to find that Mollie was trembling. ”

“ Joyce,” murmured Amy, longing eyes on the tempting pastry. “We don’t deserve it.”
“Anybody who tries to do good in this world deserves every nice thing that comes to ’em,” said the good woman stoutly, as she securely fastened the top of the hamper. “Now, be gone with you, while I tend to the rest of my baking.”
“But, Mrs. Joyce, we haven’t paid you yet,” protested Betty. ”

“ Amy had added, casually, “if Allen has fixed up the matter of that old man’s will yet. He has been so very mysterious about it——”
“That he’s made us all curious,” finished Grace.
“I don’t see why,” said Mollie, pushing some burning scraps back into the heap of blazing paper, “he doesn’t tell us what he knows and let us share in the fun.”
“He will, when he gets ready,” said Betty, adding with a little caper she could not repress: “Oh, girls, it’s almost eleven o’clock. Aren’t you getting a bit excited?”
“Getting!” drawled Grace. “We have been, all along. ”

“ That night around the campfire—the prettiest one they had yet made—Betty cautioned them that the best thing they could do would be to put “this scare about tramps” out of their minds.
“There’s no use ruining our whole summer,” she said. “The chances are, even if there are138 tramps about, they don’t mean to annoy us. We haven’t any jewelry or valuables that they might hope to steal, and they will probably be only too glad to give us a wide berth.”
“That’s what I say,” agreed Mollie, heartily. “It’s up to us to say whether we’re going to let such a foolish thing ruin our fun. ”

“ It—the couch—was a wicker one of the porch furniture variety and a more uncomfortable object to sit on could hardly be imagined. However, if either Betty or Allen was uncomfortable, neither of them noticed the fact.
“So you did notice me hanging around on the outskirts of the crowd,” he reproached her, adding with a sigh: “My, but it’s good to get you out here away from all that.”
By “that” he evidently meant the music and Betty leaned forward, her brow a little puckered.
“You’re worrying about that poor old man who died to-night. I know it!” ”

“ Amy shook off her thoughtful mood and smiled.
“I suppose you’ll think I’m foolish,” she said, a bit shyly. “But I just can’t get that old lady out of my mind—the one who does the embroidery.”
“Listen, Amy,” remarked Mollie, screwing51 around in her seat until the girl came within her range of vision, “if we should feel bad about every poor unfortunate person in this world, we would all be joy killers. So stop worrying.”
“I suppose so,” sighed Amy, but the troubled look did not leave her eyes.
“I’d hate to have Amy’s conscience,” chuckled Mollie to Betty, after they had left Amy at her door. ”

“ You peel the onions and I’ll tend to the potatoes.”
“Such lack of delicacy,” sighed Grace, as she obediently put away her mirror and took up an onion. “Who suggested onions, anyway? They always make my eyes water.”
“Notice you eat ’em just the same,” returned Mollie, unfeelingly, adding, as Betty put a match to the fire which she and Grace had laid with the greatest care: “Whee, there goes Betty. That’s right, old girl, let her roar!” ”

“ Now,” she added, regarding her finished work thoughtfully, “I guess that’s about as right as I can make it.”
“It’s just fine,” returned Amy, enthusiastically, adding as she slipped an arm fondly about the Little Captain: “You always know just what to do to make people comfortable, Betty dear. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, nonsense,” retorted Betty gayly. “Probably you’d get along a good deal better. Now let’s go out and see what those girls are doing.”
Mollie and Grace were very busy as Amy and the Little Captain stepped from the tent. ”

“ The blaze from the dry wood leapt up merrily and the girls gave a whoop of sheer joy.
“This is the life!” cried Mollie, putting even more than her usual “pep” into the peeling of potatoes. “Hustle up, Gracie, and we’ll soon have an aroma around this little old camp that will draw the hungry coyotes for miles around.”
“Goodness, I hope not,” said Betty, as she put a generous supply of butter in the frying pan and Grace dumped her first consignment of onions into it where they sizzled and fried delightfully. “If we attracted too many animals I doubt if we’d97 have enough onions to go around. ”