The Meadow-Brook Girls Across Country; Or, The Young Pathfinders on a Summer Hike

CHAPTER IV—THE COMING OF CRAZY JANE

After bidding good-bye to the hospitable squire and his good wife, next morning, the girls started over the fields on their way down the valley on the other side of the ridge. Before leaving they had pressed their camp dresses and the girls now looked very neat in their dark blue uniforms that they had worn at Camp Wau-Wau. They wore also the official hat of the Camp Girls, to which organization they belonged. The hat was of blue cloth with the letters “C. G.” in white embroidered on the front.

About their necks the girls wore a few brightly colored beads which to them meant more than precious stones, for each girl had won her beads by achievements as a Camp Girl. They hoped to win more on the long tramp across country. Harriet and Tommy had won several beads apiece, already, by their bravery at the barn fire, though of course the beads had not been awarded as yet. That would not be until after Miss Elting had made her report to the Chief Guardian at the completion of the trip.

The girls were now well on their way hoping soon to find Jane McCarthy and her car awaiting them. It was a five mile tramp over rough and steep hills, through woods and ravines. By this time however the Meadow-Brook Girls were becoming accustomed to rough traveling. The only one who made any really serious complaints was Margery Brown. She was usually in distress, but it was observed that the stout girl was beginning to lose considerable flesh. Her freckles were more pronounced, however, and her face was redder than it ever had been before.

The party, after a trying hike, reached the top of the range of hills about eleven o’clock in the morning. A long, sloping meadow stretched away from them until it met the highway.

“There is the road,” cried Harriet.

“But Crazy Jane ith nowhere in thight,” observed Tommy solemnly.

“This is where we should have been last night,” nodded Miss Elting. “But we should have missed all of our exciting experiences of last night had we taken the right trail.”

“Missed them!” exclaimed Margery. “I wish we had. I never shall get over thinking about that awful fire and that horrid old Gipsy woman.”

Harriet smiled to herself thinking that it was well that Margery had not seen the dark-faced men enter the barn that night.

“Shall we wait, or go on?” questioned Harriet.

Miss Elting decided that they should go on after reaching the highway. She told the girls to keep a sharp lookout for “signs.” The sign of the Meadow-Brook Girls was a triangle. It might be found chalked on a fence or elsewhere by the roadside. An arrow pointing away from the triangle indicated the direction in which a Meadow-Brook girl had traveled. An arrow pointing straight up indicated, “I will return.” An arrow pointing toward the ground meant, “wait here.” A broken arrow, pointing in any direction indicated, “danger.”

Reaching the highway the girls scanned the fences. Most of these being wire fences there was no space for any of the signs that they had agreed upon before starting out on their tramp. Occasionally they halted to examine a sign board at the junction of two or more roads, but nowhere did they find any trace of Jane and her car. There were not even tire tracks in the road. The pedestrians had almost made up their minds that Crazy Jane herself had missed her way when Harriet suddenly held up her hand.

“I hear the honk of a motor horn,” she said.

“And there’s the sign on that hog pen,” laughed Miss Elting, pointing to a pig sty close to where they were standing. “That’s just like Jane. The arrow says we are to wait here.”

“A pig pen ith thertainly a nithe plathe to wait,” observed Tommy sarcastically.

“We don’t have to wait in the pen, you goose,” jeered Margery.

“Tho I thee,” answered Tommy imperturbably.

“There she comes!” shouted Hazel.

Crazy Jane McCarthy, her blonde hair streaming over her shoulders, rounded a bend in the road, the rear wheels of her car skidding nearly to the ditch on the outside of the curve. Jane was shouting and waving one hand. She brought the car up sliding and leaped to the ground.

“You dears! Where have you been?” she cried, embracing each of the girls in turn, not forgetting Miss Elting.

“The question, is where have you been?” laughed the guardian.

“Racing up and down the road looking for you,” returned Jane.

“Where did you sleep?” questioned Harriet.

“At a farm house over in the valley,” chuckled Jane. “Where did you sleep?”

“We were in a barn part of the night. Regular tramps, aren’t we,” answered Harriet, her eyes sparkling.

“Yeth, and—and the barn burned down,” explained Grace.

“What?”

“Grace is right,” Miss Elting informed Jane. “Lightning struck the barn, burning it to the ground. Harriet saved an old Gipsy woman from being burned to death. She had been stunned by the bolt of lightning and for the time being was paralyzed.”

“Oh, what a shame!” exclaimed Jane. “I always have to be absent when the fun is going on. Think of poor me tearing up and down the road, half crazy because I’d lost you and you having so much fun all the time,” she complained. “Who was the woman you saved, darlin’?” she questioned, turning admiring eyes on Harriet Burrell.

“A Gipsy. She called herself Sybarina,” answered Harriet.

“And did the Gipsy tell your fortune, Harriet?”

“Yes, she did,” cried Margery. “She said Harriet was going to be a great lady, rich and some other things that I didn’t understand. Then Sybarina gave Harriet her blessing.”

“Now, Jane,” said Harriet mischievously. “Tell us about the way you ran down the farmer’s calf.”

Jane gazed at Harriet frowningly, then burst into laughter.

“What do you know about that? Who has been telling tales?”

“The farmer said you shaved the hair off the calf’s tail with your car.”

“I was sorry for the calf, but you ought to have seen the farmer wave his arms and run after me. He was fairly pulling the hair out of his head with rage,” chuckled Crazy Jane. “Well, dears, what have you in mind? Want to take a nice ride in the car?”

Harriet shook her head with emphasis.

“When we started on this tramp we agreed that we wouldn’t ride in your car at all. I, for one, am going to keep to that agreement.”

“Don’t tempt me,” said Hazel, chancing to catch the merry eye of Jane McCarthy.

“We didn’t agree not to eat in the car, did we?” questioned Tommy. “That latht gully I fell into gave me an awful appetite.”

“Wait! I’ll set the table,” cried Jane, dashing to the car and unlocking the luggage trunk at the rear. From under the rear seat she took a board, which she laid across the rear compartment. Over this she spread a white cloth and on it began placing a cold luncheon that was sufficiently appetizing in looks to excite the poorest appetite. Tommy eyed it longingly.

“Get in, girls,” commanded Jane. They made a rush for the car. “I have a can of milk in the locker, if the jolting of this old wagon hasn’t soured it. You see, I drove rather fast this morning. I wanted to find you. I didn’t know what had become of you. Yes; the milk is all right.”

There in Jane’s car by the side of the road they ate their luncheon, giving no heed to the curious glances of passers-by.

“Did the farmer really tell you about that calf?” questioned Jane, when the girls had nearly finished their meal.

“Yes. It was in his barn we slept until it caught fire,” explained the guardian. “He then took us to his home and he and his wife were perfectly lovely to us. I wish you had been with us. He is a quaint character.”

“If he is anything like his calf, he must be,” observed Crazy Jane. “It didn’t know enough to get out of the road when it saw an automobile coming at forty-five miles an hour. Where are you going from here?”

“We must consult the map. Are there any good camping places beyond here, or were you going so fast you couldn’t see?”

“I never drive so fast that I can’t see,” reproved Jane. “Yes. I know of a place, and it’s a fine place for a camp too. It’s called the Willow Ponds. It is just far enough back from the road, and there isn’t a house in sight.”

“How far is it from here?” asked Hazel.

“Five miles.”

“Five mileth!” repeated Tommy wearily.

“Oh, help!” wailed Margery. “My feet won’t hold out.”

“Then ride with me,” suggested Jane.

“Thank you,” returned Margery, “but I consider walking the lesser of the two evils.”

“I fear it will make too short a hike for us, for one day,” reflected Miss Elting.

“It will make a ten mile hike,” answered Harriet.

“Yes. But only five miles of walking on the main trail. We shall have advanced only five miles. However, perhaps it will be enough for one day.”

“That latht gully I fell into gave me an awful appetite,” reiterated Tommy apologetically, as she helped herself to another slice of cold roast beef.

“Tommy’s appetite doesn’t need that kind of stimulant,” laughed Hazel. “Nor does mine. I think I shall have to have another slice of roast beef.”

The luncheon ended, the girls reclined on the soft cushions of the car for half an hour, after which Harriet and Jane put away the dishes and the rest of the food.

“Are we ready to hike?” asked Harriet.

Margery’s face took on a pained expression.

“Oh, I suppose so,” she complained. “The sooner we start the sooner we shall get there. Then a long night’s rest in our own tent. Oh, joy, oh, joy!”

“It may not be so very joyous, after all,” retorted Miss Elting. “In this topsy-turvy bit of country anything may happen, at any moment, to keep us awake, or even to banish the wish for sleep.”

“What we need,” said Tommy soberly, “ith a nithe, good-natured dog that will bite folkth.”

Miss Elting decided that it was time to start. So shouldering their packs the girls moved on.

“I’ll be driving behind you,” said Crazy Jane. “I’ll be pace-maker. If you lag I’ll remonstrate by riding over you! How will you like that?”

Miss Elting and Harriet set a good stride. The other girls straggled after them, Margery being last of all. Behind them all Jane drove the car slowly, the engine making no noise.

“We must walk faster, girls!” cried Miss Elting, looking back. “You, especially, Margery. Faster!”

“I couldn’t move any faster,” protested Margery wearily “even if I were paid for it.”

Honk! Honk! Honk! sounded an automobile horn behind her. There was a whirr of fast-moving wheels.

HONK!

Turning, Margery saw the car bearing down upon her at full speed.

“O-o-o-h!” screamed Margery. Picking up her skirts a trifle she fled down the road, while Jane stopped the car just behind her.

“I’m sorry you can’t move fast!” Jane called, teasingly.

Twice after that Crazy Jane forced Margery to quicken her lagging steps until at length poor Margery stepped aside, out of the road.

“Not another step for me, Jane McCarthy, unless you keep ahead of the whole party,” declared the persecuted Camp Girl.

“Get in and ride,” teased Jane.

“I—I believe I will,” faltered Margery, who was limping now.

“Margery!” exclaimed Harriet rebukingly, “if you ride, then you will have to drop out of the hike, and we’ll send you home.”

“I—I think I’ll keep on walking,” Margery decided meekly.

The rest of the journey was accomplished without further complaints from either Tommy or Margery. Arriving at a place where they left the road and set off across a field, Jane explained that earlier in the day she had asked the permission of the owner of the field to camp there. She thought it would make an excellent camp site, the ponds being screened from the road by a heavy growth of willows, and there was plenty of dry wood to be had from the ruins of an old saw mill that stood near the ponds. The willows, also, would serve to hide the camp from the gaze of curious outsiders, a condition to be desired by young women tramping through the country.

The car was driven in among the willows, after which Harriet and Miss Elting began hauling the sections of their tent from the rear of the car. They went at the pitching of the tent like veterans, and placed the sections together, then raised the canvas, staking it down with the expertness of circusmen.

Harriet left the final staking-down to Tommy and Margery while she gathered the wood for the campfire. Jane and Miss Elting, in the meantime had begun getting out the supplies for supper. Two folding tables were set up in the tent, covered by fresh table cloths, on which were placed the dishes and the silver knives, forks and spoons that Jane had brought along. She said silver was none too good for the Meadow-Brook Girls. The water in the pond, being from nearby springs, was cool and refreshing. The girls decided to take a swim late in the evening after their suppers had been well digested.

It was a merry party of happy, brown-faced girls that sat down to the evening meal with the cheerful campfire blazing just outside, and the cool, fragrant autumn breezes drifting through the tent. Everything was charmingly peaceful, but the peace of the night was to be rudely disturbed later in the evening, and the girls were to have another exciting time of it ere they finally got to sleep.

CHAPTER V—CATCHING THE SPECKLED BEAUTIES

“Catch me an oythter for breakfatht.”

Harriet paused from jointing Jane’s rod long enough to join in the merriment at Tommy’s expense.

“Have you a dusty miller, Jane?” she asked, glancing up with flushed face.

“I don’t know whether or not he’s dusty, but there’s an insect in there that they call a miller. Dad says it’s a killer. I never saw it show its teeth. It’s my opinion that it would be a fool fish that would bite a thing like that.”

“You wait and see,” chuckled Harriet, fixing the leader of the fly to the silk line, then balancing the rod by its butt, swinging the line this way and that through the air to see how the reel worked.

“It will be too late by the time you get ready to fish,” reminded Miss Elting.

“It isn’t sunset yet, Miss Elting. There should be good fishing for half an hour yet.”

“Well, are you going to fish, or are you going to talk all the time during that half hour?” demanded Margery.

For answer Harriet swung the pole above her head. With a swish the dusty miller described a long curve in the air, then dived for the water, which it took with the faintest possible disturbance.

There followed a swish and a splash. The rod bent until it seemed to the spectators as though it would break under the strain. A flashing, scintillating body jumped through the air, then plunged down deep into the clear waters of the pond.

“A fithh! A fithh!” screamed Tommy. “Harriet hath got a fithh. Oh, goodie, goodie, goodie!”

“Pull him in. You’ll lose him!” shouted Margery.

“Now will you look at our Harriet?” cried Crazy Jane, hugging herself gleefully, swaying her body from side to side in the ecstasy of her delight.

The trout that Harriet Burrell had hooked was a lively fish. It was darting and diving with wonderful strength and quickness. The line cut the water with a swish, swish, swish that was plainly heard by all.

“Get it, Harriet! Oh, do get it,” begged Hazel, in an agony of apprehension lest the trout succeed in freeing itself.

“The real fun of catching a fish is ‘playing’ it, just as Harriet is doing,” answered Miss Elting.

Tommy had run out on one of the beams of the old mill race, where she was dancing up and down at the imminent risk of a ducking.

“Now, look out, girls,” warned Harriet. “I’m going to try to land him.” There was a lively scurrying on the part of the girls. The trout came up protesting and fighting every inch of the way. Then Harriet, having reeled in the line, pulled the trout in toward the bank.

Unfortunately for Harriet, but fortunately for the fish, Tommy Thompson was in the way. The trout slapped her squarely in the face ere Harriet had discovered her companion’s location. There was a shrill scream from Tommy, a light splash as the trout dropped into the pond, then a mighty splash as Tommy, losing her balance, went sprawling into the cold water.

“Oh, I have lost my fish!” wailed Harriet.

“Catch Tommy!” yelled Margery.

Harriet threw down her rod and ran out on the beam where Tommy had been standing before the disaster. Tommy was splashing and coughing, making frantic efforts to reach shore. Harriet knew the little blonde girl could swim, else she would have gone in after her. But Tommy wished to attract all the sympathy and attention of her companions in her direction, so she kept up a continuous screaming. Harriet reached down and gave her a hand.

“How’s the water, Tommy?” questioned Harriet, mischievously.

“Co-o-o-old,” chattered Tommy. “I’m fr-r-r-r-eezing. What did you knock me in for?”

“Why, I didn’t realize that you were standing there. Why did you make me lose my fish?”

“There, there, girls! Tommy go into the tent at once and take off your wet clothing. Put on dry clothes unless you wish to go to bed now.”

“I don’t want to go to bed, I want to watch Harriet catch fithh.”

“Oh, you’ve scared them all out of the pond,” complained Margery.

“I hope you fall in, too, Buthter,” was Tommy’s parting salute, as she ran shivering to the tent. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged clad in dry clothing and apparently none the worse for her recent wetting.

In the meantime Harriet had returned to her fishing, laughing softly over her companion’s mishap and their argument following the plunge. There were screams of delight when finally she landed a trout. Nor did she stop until the sun dipped behind the western hills and the speckled beauties went down into the depths of the stream, or skulked under the edge of its banks for the night. The result of the fishing was a dozen fine trout, the smallest weighing only a little under a half pound and the largest weighing nearly two pounds, according to the guardian’s estimate.

Harriet insisted on dressing the fish that night, something she knew better how to do than did any of her companions. The fish were then put in a pail, the cover tightly fitted and the pail hung in the old mill race, where the cold water would flow over the receptacle all night long.

“There,” exclaimed Harriet after her work was finished. “We shall have a breakfast fit for a king. Now I’m going in bathing. I am so covered with dust and grime that I’m ashamed of myself. Come, girls, aren’t you going in with me?”

“What! Go into that ice cold water?” demanded Margery. “No, thank you. I’ll heat some water and take my bath in the tent.”

“I will go in with you, Harriet,” offered Hazel.

“So will I,” added the guardian. “Come, let’s get ready before the air gets colder. Tommy already has had her bath.”

Had they not been inured to cold water and exposure, the experiment might have been followed by severe colds if nothing worse. But the Meadow-Brook Girls were well seasoned from living out of doors for the greater part of the summer and from bathing in the cold stream at Camp Wau-Wau. The first plunge into the pond brought gasps and shivers, then they splashed about in the water, swimming across the pond and back, again and again, while Margery stood on the bank shivering out of pure sympathy for them.

“That is what I call great,” cried Harriet, rising dripping to the bank after Miss Elting had called to the two girls to come out of the water. “I could almost eat another meal after that bath.”

“Tho could I,” piped Tommy, thrusting her head out from the tent flap.

The two girls and the guardian ran laughing to the tent, where, greatly refreshed by their cold plunge, they changed their wet bathing suits for dry clothing.

Now fresh fuel was piled on the camp fire. The flames blazed high and the smoke curled skyward in the still, clear evening air. Harriet and Hazel were capering about the fire, holding an impromptu war dance. Tommy was standing near one corner of the tent watching the performance, when, thinking she had heard a sound behind her, she turned apprehensively.

For one horrified moment Tommy Thompson gazed, then with a yell of terror sprang for the tent.

“Thave me! Oh, thave me!” she screamed.

“What is it?” cried Harriet and Miss Elting, rushing toward her. Then they, too, halted, gazing into the deepening shadows that enveloped the rear of the tent. Margery had caught sight of the object that had sent Tommy into an agony of terror. Margery had thrown herself headlong into the tent screaming wildly. Hazel, Miss Elting and Harriet stood their ground.

CHAPTER VI—THE CALL OF THE DANCING BEAR

“We maka da bear dance,” said the man, with the pole, touching his hat politely. “You giva mea twent-five cent I maka da bear dance.”

“We do not wish to see the bear dance. You will please go away, or I shall call for assistance to drive you off,” returned Miss Elting boldly.

“Oh, let the bear dance. It would be great fun,” urged Hazel.

“Twent-five cent to maka da bear dance.”

At this juncture Margery came timidly out of the tent. Tommy, white-faced, ready to run at the slightest sign of alarm, crept out after her.

“Will—will he bite?” stammered Margery.

“He will hurt his teeth on the muzzle if he does,” answered Harriet Burrell laughingly.

The leader gave a sharp command. The bear rose on its hind feet and began pawing the air. It fixed its beady eyes on the face of Tommy Thompson. Tommy uttered a little cry and shrank back.

“He lika da littla girl,” grinned the Italian.

“Never mind being personal. If you will keep your distance we will pay you a quarter to see the bear dance.” Miss Elting drew a coin from her pocket, and stepping forward, without the least hesitation, handed it to the man with the pole. “Keep him over on that side of the fire. You two men remain over there also. Remember, we are quite well prepared to assert our rights if you do not do as you are told. Watch that neither of them gets into the tent, Harriet,” she added in a whisper.

Harriet Burrell nodded understandingly. The bear, in response to frequent prods of the pole, ambled about, dancing awkwardly, now and then uttering a growl of resentment at the treatment he was receiving. His master put the animal through its paces. At this juncture, Jane McCarthy, who, some time before, had driven off to a farm house in quest of milk for breakfast, drove in with a great rattle and honking. At first the Italians were for dragging their bear away. But, upon discovering that the newcomer was only another young woman, they grinned and went on with the performance.

“Hello! what have we here?” cried Jane. “Where did you catch that beast? Hey, you men! Didn’t I pass you on the road this afternoon? Yes, I did. I recognize your friend, the bear. Better look out for those fellows. I don’t like the looks of them,” declared Crazy Jane to Miss Elting in a low voice. “I’d a heap sooner trust the bear than the men, and I wouldn’t care to turn my back on either for very long at one time.” Then turning to the men she said: “Make your bear do his tricks over again. I haven’t seen the show, you know.”

“Twent-five cent,” answered the man.

Jane looked at him for a few seconds, then, throwing back her head, laughed loudly.

“Twent-five cents, eh? I guess not! Does he dance, or does he not?” she demanded.

For answer the man with the pole gave the bear a vicious poke, the other led the animal to a small tree, to which he tied him.

“My gracious, are they going to camp here?” gasped Margery.

“Don’t be afraid. We will send them on their way soon enough,” answered Harriet in a low voice. “I wouldn’t make them angry, Miss Elting.”

“I don’t intend to.”

“Leave them to me. See here, men, what do you propose to do now?” demanded Jane briskly.

“We lika somathing to eat.”

“All right. You shall have somathing. Twent-five cent please,” mimicked Crazy Jane, holding out a hand. She was so droll about it that the girls burst out laughing.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that. See, you have made them angry,” whispered Hazel.

“I don’t care if I have. I’ll be getting angry myself, pretty soon—maybe.”

“Shall I get something for them, Miss Elting?” questioned Harriet.

The guardian nodded. Harriet ran into the tent, where she quickly prepared some roast beef sandwiches. These she carried out and handed to the leader of the bear. He divided with his companion. The two men sat down by the fire and began eating voraciously.

“You gotta coffee?” asked the leader, his mouth so full of the sandwich he was eating that he was barely understandable.

“No. We have no coffee made,” replied Miss Elting. “You will have to get along with what you have.”

“You maka coffee. You maka now!”

“What?” cried Crazy Jane belligerently. “You order us to make coffee for you, you lazy good-for-nothings? Get out of here before I lose my temper with you.”

“Easy, Jane!” warned Miss Elting.

“You no giva coffee, I letta out da bear,” threatened the leader, scrambling up and running to the tree where the cinnamon bear was secured. The second Italian also had risen to his feet. He was edging toward the rear of the tent, evidently thinking that he was not observed. But Harriet, though not appearing to notice, was watching him narrowly. Tommy and Margery were trembling with fear. Harriet and Jane were unafraid. They were getting a little angry, however. Miss Elting slipped into the tent and getting her revolver, secreted it in a fold of her skirt. Just as she emerged the second Italian ducked in under the edge of the tent. The tent had been staked down firmly and as the man was somewhat stout he stuck when half way under the side wall.

“Come out of that,” commanded Harriet.

Instead of obeying her the man tried to wriggle in.

“I see I’ve got to attack him from inside the tent,” decided the girl. Wheeling about she ran into the tent where, in the light from the campfire, she could see the tousled head and rolling black eyes of the man underneath the side wall. Without speaking she seized a pail of water that stood near the entrance of the tent and dashed it full into the man’s face.

“Hurrah for Harriet!” cried Crazy Jane from the tent door, where she stood waving her arms now and hopping about gleefully.

Choking and sputtering the man wriggled out from under the tent uttering a perfect torrent of abuse in his native tongue. It was about this time that Miss Elting discovered that she had forgotten to load the revolver before taking it from the tent. Meanwhile the leader had untied the chain of the bear and was urging it forward, evidently intending to frighten the women.

“You giva me mon. I then-a go way with da bear. You giva me mon,” he demanded angrily.

Tommy Thompson, at this juncture, found her courage. Snatching up a burning fire brand she charged the man leading the bear. He leaped back to avoid the thrust of the fiery club. The bear swung a giant paw at her. Tommy hit him over the nose with the firebrand. In the meantime Hazel Holland, following Harriet’s example, appeared on the scene with another pail of water, which she dashed over the leader and the bear.

Fire and water were a little more than the man or the bear had bargained for, so they made haste to get out of the danger zone. Crazy Jane, in the meantime pursued them shouting and brandishing a stout stick that she had picked up in the field. Jane chased the men all the way to the road, with Tommy and her fiery club in close pursuit.

“Oh, those rascals!” cried the guardian, when the girls returned. “And that miserable bear! I’ll warrant the three of them got the fright of their lives. They won’t bother the Meadow-Brook Girls soon again.”

“I am not so certain of that,” answered Harriet, smiling. “We did give them a scare, though. But I’m sorry I had almost to drown that one man. He was determined to get into the tent. What do you suppose he wanted?”

“To steal something, of course,” answered Miss Elting.

“And Tommy. Did you see Tommy and her torch, girls? Oh, wasn’t it a sight?”

“Yes. And Hazel and Harriet with their pails of water,” chuckled the guardian.

“Tommy, dear,” exclaimed Miss Elting, as the little girl sat down beside her, flushed and triumphant. “You have earned a bead this evening. I think each one of you is entitled to a bright red bead. Now pile on the wood, girls, so we shall have plenty of light. I don’t apprehend further trouble, but it is well to be prepared.”

“I will see to that,” spoke up Harriet. “I have a plan that will make it unnecessary for any one to sit up and keep watch.”

Harriet explained her plan, which met with the approval of the others. That plan was destined to fulfill its purpose later in the night, for their excitement was not yet ended, and before the dawning of another day, the Meadow-Brook Girls were once more to distinguish themselves.

CHAPTER VII—DISCOVERING MIDNIGHT PROWLERS

All hands set out to hunt for the desired sticks. Harriet began thrusting them into the soft ground at more or less regular intervals.

When the stakes had been placed loops of string were tied near the tops of them, and through these loops was threaded the long twine until the camp was entirely surrounded by it. It formed a thread-like barrier that seemed too slender a thing to be of much use. One end of the string was secured to the two sticks on which the pail had been placed. The slack in the string was taken up until the sticks and the pail tilted from the wall of the tent at a sharp angle.

“Hurrah!” cried the guardian. “That is a most ingenious contrivance. How did you come to think of it?”

“Nethethity ith the mother of invention, tho my father thayth,” spoke up Grace.

Harriet nodded approvingly. The others laughed.

“Tommy is becoming quite a philosopher,” averred the guardian. “Aren’t you going to give us a demonstration of your invention, Harriet?”

“Very well,” laughed Harriet. “Hazel, will you go out and stumble against the string? Don’t you dare to break it for—Oh!”

The two sticks had come down with a crash, the tin pail rattling as it rolled over the floor. Tommy screamed and so did Margery.

“There’s your demonstration,” announced Harriet. “Some one is coming. I hope it isn’t those Italians again.”

Miss Elting with her loaded revolver, Jane with her club, Harriet armed this time with a stout stick, sauntered forth to meet the newcomer. Jane had run to the dark side of the tent, thrusting her club across the corner ready to use it at the first indication of trouble. To her disgust, the farmer from whom she had obtained permission to make camp, now appeared on the scene.

“It’s all right, girls. This is the gentleman who let us make camp here,” called Jane.

“I just came over to tell you to take care of your fire. If it runs it’ll burn off the meadow, it being all fresh seeding there. I wouldn’t want to lose it,” hailed their visitor.

“Thank you for calling our attention to it. We are always careful of fire,” Miss Elting made reply.

“What was it I fell over when I came in here?” he asked, glancing about him. “You certainly look mighty comfortable here.”

The girls looked at each other and giggled.

“It was a little contrivance of one of our young women, so that we might be warned of the approach of strangers,” the guardian informed him. “You see, it warned us that some one was coming.”

“I guess you can take care of yourselves, all right. Is there anything you want? If there is, come over to the house. My wife is curious to see this outfit. Maybe she will come over in the morning.”

“Thank you very kindly for your interest,” answered the guardian. “We shall be breaking camp early in the morning.”

The farmer left. Harriet nodded to her companions.

“Was the demonstration satisfactory?” she questioned.

“I should say it was,” answered Margery. “It nearly scared me out of my wits.”

“I suppose we shall have to mend the string now. The farmer’s big boots broke it in two places. However, we needn’t worry about any person getting into this camp to-night without giving us warning of his approach,” said Harriet. She repaired the broken “burglar alarm,” then returning to the tent adjusted the sticks and the pail, placing several other pieces of tinware with it. The girls then gathered about the campfire, where they chatted, told stories and exchanged experiences until a late hour.

Harriet got out the map just before they retired. After consulting with Miss Elting for some time, it was decided that they should take a short cut across a rugged country, using their compass to guide them, meeting Jane some twelve miles further on. She would have to drive more than twenty miles to make the point. The girls did not enjoy the highways very much. In the first place, the roads were dusty; many curious people were to be met with on the roads; then again they thoroughly enjoyed breaking new paths through the forests and over fields and hills. Now that all the crops had been garnered there was no danger of doing damage to the farmers’ fields by tramping across them. Jane was instructed to wait for them after driving into the next town for fresh supplies.

“It’s curious that we don’t run across any melon fields. The first one I catch sight of I’m going to raid,” she declared.

“No, Jane, you mustn’t do that,” objected the guardian. “What we get we must pay for.”

“Certainly,” agreed Jane. “But there isn’t any sport in just walking up and paying for melons. It’s a heap more fun to forage for them.”

“But, Jane, think what it means to take an object of value that doesn’t belong to you. It is stealing!”

“That’s true. It surely is,” agreed Jane. “I won’t ever mention any such thing again.”

“Thank you,” returned Miss Elting with a smile that amply repaid Crazy Jane for her decision.

At last all hands began making preparations for bed. Folding cots were opened and made up, fresh fuel was heaped on the campfire, then Harriet and Miss Elting made a round of the camp to see that all was in shape for the night. Jane lighted the big headlights on her car, turning them on the darkest part of the camp, after which they drew the flap to the tent and began preparing for bed. Half an hour later the camp was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the fire. All the dead leaves and inflammable stuff had been raked away and the ground dug up immediately about the fire to prevent it from spreading. The moon now silvered the landscape, and a faint mist was rising from about the Willow Ponds, adding to the beauty of the night.

Midnight came, then the silence became more marked than before. About one o’clock in the morning two men might have been observed skulking about the farther side of the pond nearest to the camp. They took care not to come within range of the headlights of Crazy Jane’s motor car. Had one looked closely at them the men might have been recognized as the same pair that had visited the camp with the bear earlier in the evening. What their purpose was in returning could only be surmised.

It might be revenge or robbery. In either event it was bad enough, and the Meadow-Brook Girls, sleeping soundly, were blissfully unconscious of the danger that menaced them. Their faith in Harriet Burrell’s burglar alarm permitted them to sleep without fear.

All at once there was a mighty crash in the tent. As Tommy Thompson described it afterwards, “it thounded ath if lightning had thtruck a tin thhop.” The tin pail and the other kitchen utensils that had been hung on the long sticks in the tent came down with a clatter and a bang. The tin pail rolled clear across the tent, landed on Margery Brown, bringing from her a scream of terror.

“Quick! Put on your bathrobes!” called Miss Elting. “There is trouble here.”

No need to tell them that. The tin pail already had conveyed this information to the Meadow-Brook Girls.

“Oh, thave me!” wailed Tommy.

Harriet was the first one to run outside the tent.

“There they are!” she cried, having caught sight of two skulking figures near the automobile. “It’s the same Italians. Let’s call for help as loudly as we can. Perhaps that will make them take to their heels.”

It had the desired effect. Seeing that the camp was fully aroused the intruders fled. Then a daring plan suggested itself to Crazy Jane McCarthy. Leaving her companions she started on a run for her car.

“Come back! Where are you going?” cried the guardian.

“I’ll show you, I’ll show them! Just watch and you’ll see more fun than a barrel of monkeys eating cayenne pepper.”

Dashing up to the car, she advanced the spark control, and gave the crank a quick turn. The car began a sputtering that quickly grew into a roar from the exhaust. Crazy Jane leaped in. She was clad in a bathrobe that reached to her ankles; her tangle of hair fell about her face and shoulders giving her face a wilder and more weird expression than ever.

Jane threw in the high speed lever. The car leaped forward. Harriet Burrell, who had divined something of Jane’s purpose, made a running leap and landed on the step, grasping one of the cover braces for support.

“Jane, Jane! For goodness’ sake, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to give the rascals the scare of their lives. They haven’t had enough. Get in!”

Harriet did so, but only to prevent being thrown off the car. She had little desire to participate in the drive that she well knew would be an exciting one. Miss Elting was shouting to Jane to come back. Jane did not or would not hear. Uttering a shrill little cry of triumph she drove the car ahead at a perilous rate of speed. Over the rough field the automobile lurched and careened imperiling the safety of its occupants and threatening momentarily to upset and wreck the car.

The two men were fleeing across the field. Seeing the car bearing down upon them, they began to dodge. The big white eyes of the headlights followed them wherever they went. It was maddening. Now the fugitives began zig-zagging. So did Crazy Jane. Once she nearly ran them down. The Italians sprang out of the way just in time and began running back toward the camp. Jane pursued them as soon as she could get the car turned about and facing the other way. By this time the men had gotten a long start.

“They’re making for the camp, the villains,” breathed Jane.

“It is because they are trying to get out of your way,” answered Harriet almost breathlessly. “You will have to head them off.”

“Head them off nothing!” exploded Jane. “Rather will I take their heads off, the miserable rascals.”

“Jane, Jane! You mustn’t run them down. You simply must not. You might kill them. Please, please don’t try to do that, dear!” begged Harriet.

“All right, darlin’. But you’re making me lose a lot of fun. I don’t get an opportunity like this every day in the week. They deserve all I can give them.”

“You mustn’t harm a human being, no matter how bad he is. There, they have turned toward the road.”

“I won’t hurt them,” promised Jane. “I’ll just scare them a little.”

“Oh!” cried Harriet as the car rose on two wheels, nearly turning over. “Do be careful!”

“Don’t be afraid. As long as I’ve got two wheels on the ground I’m all right. Now if I had only one wheel on the old sod you might worry, but you wouldn’t worry for long. See ’em go. They know I’ve got them now!”

Just then the men plunged headlong into a ditch that extended all the way across the field. The girls had not discovered it until that moment. Jane checked her car just in time to prevent it also from going into the ditch.

“There’s a bridge to the right,” Harriet informed her, then was sorry she had made the suggestion. Crazy Jane charged the bridge at full speed. All four wheels seemed to strike the planking at the same instant.

Jane turned sharply. They were now chasing the two men obliquely across the field. The men were lagging.

“They’re getting winded,” shouted Crazy Jane triumphantly.

“Please go back now,” begged Harriet “You have frightened them enough. They never will trouble us again.”

“Not till I get the wretches on a run down the road. I’ve not finished with them yet.”

“They have nearly finished themselves,” answered Harriet. She was no longer apprehensive that Jane would injure the men intentionally, though Harriet feared that one of them might stumble and be crushed underneath the car. Still her pulses were beating high, the color in her cheeks had mounted to her forehead. She was entering into the spirit of the wild chase almost with the enthusiasm of Crazy Jane herself.

The voices of their companions in the camp no longer reached them. The two girls were too far away to hear now, even had the car not been making such a din.

The two men were making for the roadside fence, a board structure, which in the haze of the damp night, the girls did not see. They had forgotten that the fence was there.

All at once the men reached the fence. Grasping the top board they flung themselves over, landing heavily on the ground on the other side.

“Look out!” cried Harriet warningly.

“Hold fast!” yelled Jane.

Crash!

The car struck the fence with a mighty crash accompanied by the sound of splintering woodwork. The headlights went out, and Jane brought her car to a stop in the midst of the wreck at the roadside.

CHAPTER VIII—CAUGHT IN A MORASS

“I’ve a good notion to send the car straight through the fence, and chase that pair of skulkers out of the state!” Jane McCarthy proposed vindictively.

“Don’t you try to do it,” protested Harriet, now sobered by the realization of how reckless her companion might easily become. “Jane, some day you’ll really hit some one—that would be awful!”

“But I didn’t half frighten that pair of rascals,” returned Jane.

“If the men weren’t frightened, then they’ll never know fear,” insisted Harriet Burrell. “How badly is the car damaged?”

“A blow on the nose, but the nose is not even out of joint,” Jane answered coolly.

“Then let us get back to Miss Elting. How she’ll scold!”

Miss Elting did scold when they reached camp with the car. It is to be feared, however, that Jane heard but little of the rebuke, for she was busy examining the damage done to her beloved car. She found that she could put the lamps in condition again. The guard rod in front of the radiator was also injured. Jane decided that this could be easily fixed.

“Girls, girls! What do you mean by such actions. Jane, I am amazed at you. Harriet, how could you?” Miss Elting rebuked them roundly.

“I—I guess it was impulse,” answered Harriet, her face crimsoning under the reproachful words of the guardian. “Please don’t scold us. We drove the men off. They will not trouble us again, I am quite sure.”

“But they might have been run down, girls.”

“Served them right if they had, bad luck to them!” retorted Jane mischievously. “However, ’all’s well that ends well.’ I’m for bed. What do you say?”

“Thay, why didn’t you take me along?” demanded Tommy.

“It was quite bad enough without your assistance,” replied the guardian. “Yes, we had better retire at once. Do you wish to put up your burglar alarm again, Harriet?”

“I do not think it will be necessary. The men won’t prowl about the camp again to-night.”

“No, they won’t,” agreed Jane, laughing uproariously. “They’re running yet and they’ll be running as long as their wind holds out. I wonder where they left the bear? Wouldn’t it be fun if we could find the bear and let him loose?”

“Oh-h-h!” cried Margery. “How can you talk so, Jane?”

“Most certainly not,” rebuked Miss Elting. “You have done quite enough as it is, without turning a bear loose on the community. You had better all go back to bed. What did you do to your car, Jane?”

“Bumped its nose, that’s all. My only regret is that I didn’t bump it against one of the Italians. I shouldn’t have minded giving the bear a smash, too. Good night. Sweet dreams, darlin’s!” Jane flounced into the tent and throwing off her bathrobe tumbled into bed, where she was soon sound asleep. The others did not quiet down quite so quickly. Harriet, especially, lay thinking over the experiences of the evening, and each time the thought of the pursuit of the Italians by Crazy Jane and her motor car occurred to her, Harriet would laugh softly to herself. She finally laughed herself to sleep, to be awakened in what seemed but a few moments later, by the blowing of a fish horn at the lips of Crazy Jane McCarthy. Day had dawned. The sun was just peeping over the eastern hills, the campfire was blazing and Miss Elting was getting breakfast.

Harriet quickly drew on her bathing suit, then, running out of the tent, plunged into the pond, uttering a little scream as the cold water enveloped her. None of the others had the courage to take a cold plunge that morning, as the air was rather cool. As for Harriet, she remained in the pond until Miss Elting insisted that she come ashore.

Camp was struck immediately after breakfast as the girls wished to make as much progress on their journey in the cool of the morning as possible. They struck camp with the skill of veterans, and within half an hour from the time they began the operation, everything was packed and stowed in the car.

“Now, don’t you girls try to play me any more tricks to-day. I’ve got the food. If you don’t find Jane, you get no supper. Understand?” laughed Jane.

“I’ve got thome bithcuit in my pack,” piped Tommy.

“She won’t have them for long,” laughed Margery. “Tommy will have eaten the biscuits before she has gone a mile.”

“Well, I don’t eat tho much that I get fat,” protested Tommy. “I gueth I know when to thtop.”

Miss Elting was giving Jane final directions as to when and where to look for them, after which the four girls and their guardian, with their packs slung over their backs, stout sticks in their hands to assist them over rough places and also to frighten away troublesome dogs, started out on their journey of ten miles or more. They crossed the road, traveled up a hill and headed straight across country. The unmarked trail was rough and following it fatigued them considerably during the first two miles of their journey.

Shortly after eleven o’clock they came in sight of a remote farm house tucked away in a valley. Miss Elting decided to call there to get some milk. The woman of the house at first regarded them with suspicion, but she soon thawed under Miss Elting’s gentle voice and winning smile.

The milk had not been skimmed. All the old milk had been churned that day. There was nothing left but buttermilk, the woman told them.

“Buttermilk!” cried the girls in chorus.

“I jutht love buttermilk!” declared Tommy. “Do you have buttermilk cowth? Ithn’t that fine? I’m going to make my father buy me a buttermilk cow.”

“Well, I was going to feed that buttermilk to the hogs, but seeing as you want it I suppose you may have it,” decided the woman with some reluctance. “Do you like it cold?”

The party answered in the affirmative. The housewife lowered a pail of buttermilk into the well to cool, the party sitting down under an apple tree in the yard to rest themselves in the meantime. Margery lay down and went to sleep. Tommy amused herself by tickling Buster’s ear with a long, dead stalk of timothy grass. Margery in her sleep thought it a fly. She fought the fly for some time, then finally opening her eyes, she caught Tommy red handed. Tommy fled into the farm house, where she pretended to be much interested in the housewife’s work. She soon won her way into the good graces of the woman, and when, finally, the little lisping girl emerged from the house she was carrying a tin tray of food.

“Jutht thee what I’ve got,” she cried. “It taketh Tommy Thompthon to get thingth to eat.”

There were sandwiches, ginger cookies—great fat brown fellows—and a large dish of apple sauce.

“Oh, girls!” cried Margery her eyes glistening at the prospect of a feast. “I could die eating that food.”

“Tommy, did you beg for this?” demanded the guardian.

“I gueth not. I jutht athked for it,” returned Tommy calmly. “When you want thomething you want, jutht athk for it, and if you don’t get it you haven’t wasted anything but your breath.”

“Madam, we are very grateful to you for this kindness, and will pay you before leaving,” called Miss Elting to the housewife, who came out at this juncture to draw up the bucket of buttermilk from the cool depths of the well.

“You’re welcome, I’m sure. I just baked to-day. Hope the cookies are all right. They didn’t rise to suit me.”

“They’d have burthted if they’d rithen any more,” observed Tommy. She was rebuked by a look from Harriet.

“I hope you like them,” smiled the woman.

“Oh, they are simply delicious,” answered Harriet, with glowing eyes. “And that buttermilk! I never drank any that tasted better.”

The party ate their fill of the good things, Margery doing even more than her share in disposing of both buttermilk and food. When they had finished, the tray was empty. The woman offered to bring them more food, but Miss Elting said “no.” She gave the woman fifty cents despite the protests of the latter; then, after a brief rest, they started on again, first having expressed their thanks to the housewife, who stood in the door of her home watching the little party until it had passed out of sight.

About the middle of the afternoon the girls halted for another rest because of Margery’s complaints that she was feeling ill.

“You ate too much,” declared Harriet. “It doesn’t do to eat so much when one is taking exercise as we are.”

“Yeth. Buthter alwayth eatth too much,” averred Tommy wisely.

“Oh!” moaned Margery Brown, sitting down all in a heap. “I can’t walk another step to-day.”

“Do you think we should leave her here?” asked Harriet, with solemn face but twinkling eyes.

“We shall see how she feels after I have given her something to settle her stomach,” answered Miss Elting gravely.

“No, no, no!” wailed Margery. “Don’t leave me. I’ll go. Let me lie still and rest myself a little first.”

“You thee Buthter, it doethn’t pay to be tho greedy,” admonished Tommy.

“Will you please make her stop?” begged Buster. “I can’t stand it.”

“Tommy!” rebuked Harriet. “Haven’t you any consideration for Margery?”

“Yeth. Of courthe I have. But thhe doethn’t detherve any thympathy.”

“I’m ashamed of you, Tommy, dear. Wait. You, too, will be ill one of these days, then we shall make unpleasant remarks to you,” warned Harriet.

Grace Thompson flushed guiltily.

“That ith too bad, Buthter. I didn’t mean to make you feel worthe. Honetht I didn’t. I hope you will be better pretty thoon.” Tommy kissed her. “There. Ithn’t that better?”

“Yes,” admitted Margery. She already had taken some peppermint drops that Miss Elting had administered. After a further rest the girls assisted her to her feet and walked her slowly up and down the road. She was then permitted to sit down and rest again. Tommy, an expression of concern on her impish face, crouched before the now pale-faced Buster, munching a hard biscuit.

“Come, girls,” said Miss Elting finally. “It is nearly five o’clock. We were to meet Jane at five, and we must have a good two hours’ walk ahead of us still. Now that Margery is feeling so ill we shall not be able to make nearly as good time as that. I wonder if we hadn’t better find the highway and finish the day’s tramp on that?”

Margery protested that they must not change their plans on her account. She declared that she could walk as well as any of them.

“Margery will repent her rash assertions before she has gone a mile,” laughed Hazel.

“No. I think she will be all right, now,” replied the guardian. “Margery, if you find that you are feeling worse, at any time, you must be sure to tell me at once. Now, girls, march!”

The little company plodded along. Harriet linked one arm within Margery’s. The latter, while feeling much improved, was still a little weak and Harriet Burrell’s sturdy arm was appreciated.

About six o’clock they came to a long hill that sloped gently down into a valley. The greater part of the valley was covered with trees. It appeared to be a dense forest of second growth, the trees not being very large. The guardian consulted the map.

“Yes. We are on the right trail. We must keep straight on through the woods. According to this map there should be a trail that leads directly to the other side of the valley, and when we reach that point we shall have finished our day’s journey.”

“I am afraid we are going to be caught in the dark, Miss Elting,” said Harriet.

“If we find the trail we do not need to worry about that. We can’t very well go astray. I would suggest that, when we get down farther into the valley, we spread out and look for the wood trail. The one who first discovers it will shout. By taking this open formation we shall be saving time. It certainly seems to me that the distance to be covered to-day is more than ten miles.”

“It does seem so,” agreed Hazel. “But we have lost considerable time on the way.”

They began spreading out when about half way down the hill, calling to each other good-naturedly, shouting as they got farther and farther away. Tommy discovered the road. She ran out into the field waving her arms and crying shrilly to attract the attention of her companions. They hurried toward her. The road, as they soon learned, was a mere path and one not much frequented at that, as was evidenced by the vegetation that grew in the middle of it.

“This looks to me like rather low swampy land,” declared Harriet. “It is my idea that we had better stick closely to the path, or we may get into trouble.” She did not say definitely what she feared, not wishing to needlessly terrorize Margery and Tommy. Miss Elting understood their danger, however. She nodded. Harriet started along the trail, leading the way, with the guardian following at her heels. They went on in this way for half an hour. The forest grew darker as they proceeded, the vegetation being thick in there. The day was waning rapidly. It was not very long before they were groping their way, rather than finding it by sight.

A scream from Margery, who was at the rear, brought them up sharply. Then Tommy’s voice was raised in a sharp cry of alarm.

“What is it?” shouted Harriet.

“I’m sinking!” screamed Margery.

Harriet instantly knew the meaning of this. Her worst fears were confirmed. They were in the middle of a vast morass that stretched on each side of the trail.

“Thave me! Oh, thave me!” wailed Tommy.

Both girls were in the mud, but just how deeply Harriet Burrell did not know. Now Hazel added her cries to those of Tommy and Margery. She, too, had stepped off the path. Harriet could hear Hazel floundering in the mire. Miss Elting hurried back to them, regardless of her own safety.

“Be careful!” called Harriet warningly, groping her way to her companions who were crying and screaming for help.