"Oh, such good news!" exclaimed Dorothy, emerging from the tent. "It is worth all our trouble."
"What!" asked a chorus.
"She will be better! She has recovered her reason. The doctor says some shock——"
"Oh, but it was an awful shock," interrupted Tavia. "I believe if I had any reason it would have destroyed mine."
"Always knew there was a method in your madness, Tavia," said Nat. "Now, that's something like!"
"We are going to take her to camp to-night," went on Dorothy, too serious to take a joke. "Doctor Ashton says nothing could be better for her."
"There are camps, and camps," persisted Nat.
Ned was talking to the doctor. "We can carry her on the cot, just as well as not," insisted Nat. "There are four of us."
"And put her in the boat—well, I think that will be all right," answered the doctor. "The present trouble is more of a morbid fear than anything else," and he put his stethoscope in its case. "As soon as she feels the fresh air, and realizes that she is out of all harm's way, I think she will——"
"Sit up and take notice," interrupted Nat, for he could not help making light of the troubles with which he felt the girls were too heavily burdened.
"Exactly that," agreed the doctor. "Miss Harriwell could not have fallen into better hands. I will, however, see her safely into the boat."
It was a delightful task to assist the sick girl, realizing what it would mean ultimately. Dorothy insisted that Tavia go on ahead with Cologne, as she had had, Dorothy said, enough of nursing. But Tavia wanted to leave some word at the tent—a written word about its use. To this no one would agree, so she was obliged to go on without doing as she wished.
Down the cliffs started the party. Tavia, with Cologne, was soon joined by three of the Hays girls, from the next camp, who, although they had not been allowed to go with the searching party, managed to follow them at a distance, and who had heard of the discovery when the boys went for the doctor.
Then came the boys, Ned, Nat, Ralph, and Jack, carrying Molly on a cot. Dorothy held Molly's hand, and talked cheerfully to her as they all moved carefully along.
Doctor Ashton had reason to be particularly interested. It was he who had taken his vacation from the sanitarium when Molly made her escape.
He, too, had been impressed by the similarity between Dorothy and Molly, but, of course, he did not speak of it; neither did he know of the trouble which that resemblance had made for Dorothy.
The trip on the water was made without a mishap, and, as the doctor said, Molly gained strength and courage with almost every new breath.
Then to the camp! Dorothy ran on ahead, for Molly was walking.
"Oh, what has happened now?" asked Mrs. Markin, seeing the boys supporting Molly.
"Nothing but good news this time," replied Dorothy. "We have found Tavia, we have found a sick girl, and we have brought them all back to have a good time at Camp Capital."
This was good news indeed—Dorothy always knew how to cheer.
"Welcome!" announced the lady, planting a kiss on Dorothy's now flushed cheek. "There is a visitor waiting for you," he added.
"For me?"
Mary Bell, the nurse, stepped out on the camp porch. She was smiling, and all the anxiety had left her face.
"You little robber!" she said to Dorothy. "Where are my clothes?"
But before she could get a reply she saw Mary Harriwell. She was too well trained to need an explanation of the case as it stood now.
There were, to her, two Mary Harriwells!
"Twins!" was all that Mrs. Markin could say, as she helped the sick girl up the steps.
Miss Bell instantly took charge of Molly. She was removed to a quiet room in the camp barn, away from all noise and all confusion.
"Daddy," whispered Dorothy, as the major stood looking lovingly at her, "come on."
She led him to the stable, where the old horse Jeff stood waiting to take his part in the important work.
"Let's hitch up and drive over to Blenden. We can make it before dark, and I want to be the first to tell Mrs. Harriwell. I could never trust to a message."
With a word to Mrs. Markin, the major agreed. It was not so long a journey when the straight road was taken—it was the turns and twists that led every one astray. But Major Dale knew the road, and he and Dorothy went merrily on, with words of love and tenderness that only such a father and daughter know how to exchange.
Dorothy learned that the boys, Roger and Joe, had not heard a word of her trouble, and she at once determined not to tell even her father all that she had suffered. She had to explain, of course, about being in the sanitarium, but about the Hobbs imprisonment, she decided to say nothing.
Reaching the sanitarium, Dorothy shuddered as she asked the guards at the gate if she might see the superintendent, but when the man doffed his cap to the distinguished looking major, Dorothy again gained her composure.
Mrs. Harriwell sat in the hall, and was evidently much distressed.
Dorothy stepped up to her, and the woman started.
"Molly!" she gasped. Then she saw her mistake.
"But we have come to take you to Molly," said Dorothy, "and I want to be the first to tell you the good news! Molly is better!"
"Better!" repeated the woman vaguely, the deep lines of trouble shadowing her pale face.
"Yes, she wants to see you—she knows all about everything——"
"Your daughter, madam," said Major Dale, "has recovered her reason."
"Impossible!" gasped the poor mother.
"Not at all," declared the major. "But come along, and you will see for yourself."
An attendant had stepped up, and was looking curiously at Dorothy. She took her father's hand.
"Any word?" asked the nurse.
"Not for you," replied Mrs. Harriwell with dignity, "I find there are better places than sanitariums for—nervous girls. Come along, sir. Thank you," as she took the major's arm, and left the place.
How that mother listened to Dorothy's words! That her daughter had talked as Dorothy said, that she was at a nearby camp—— Oh, it was good news indeed!
"And she is going to stay with us," Dorothy warned her. "We will not let her go to any more hospitals."
"Never!" exclaimed the mother firmly. "Molly may stay any place she chooses. She is all I have, and I so nearly lost her!"
It was a beautiful evening. The sun had just set. Over the hills could be seen tents, their flags flying and their happy young and old owners could be heard singing, calling, and shouting; could be seen building fires, and doing all the thousand and one absurd things that humanity insists upon doing every time it gets the chance.
"It is lovely to camp," ventured Dorothy. "We have had rather an interrupted season, but I hope now we shall make up for it."
"If money will help you, it shall be yours," declared the anxious woman, "for my daughter has more than she can ever use."
Dorothy looked at her in silence. Then it was well indeed to have been lost and found, for the sake of this dear girl!
"This is our camp," said Dorothy, as they reached it.
Mrs. Harriwell fairly ran up those barn steps.
But who would try to tell what happened when she found her daughter?
"It's up to Tavia!"
"I have told you every word I am going to tell," she declared.
"Oh, no you haven't," objected Nat. "I want to know about that stagey fellow. I don't quite fancy his interference."
"He didn't interfere," declared Tavia, "and I am not going over that thing again."
"Oh, no, he didn't interfere," repeated Ned. "He merely had it all his own way. Now, if I had long hair——"
"Ned," interrupted Dorothy, "please don't. You must remember that the poor fellow was not responsible."
"Lucky dog," murmured Ned, giving Cologne one of his favorite looks (Ned had a fancy for Cologne).
"Then I think that Dorothy ought to tell her part," insisted Jack. "We have heard rumors of terrible things!"
"Mere rumors," said Dorothy with a laugh, "Why shouldn't I be entitled to my own experience? Haven't I paid it all back to you?"
"Nope. Not for the shoe that caught in the trap," said Ned facetiously.
"Nor for visiting absolute strangers like those Hobbses," added Cologne, "and they are completely out of our set."
"Well, I don't mind," agreed Jack. "We have found Molly."
"Jackie, you do know a good thing when you see it," complimented Ned.
Molly sat out on the low camp stool very close to Jack, and it was plain there was no objection on the part of either as to this particular closeness.
"Ralph says nothing——" began Tavia.
"But saws wood," added Ned, with a wink, for Ralph seemed to have appropriated Dorothy.
Altogether they were a happy set of campers. It was only ten days since the close of that distressing search, that had taken up so many of their camping days, but there was still left plenty of time for the best of outings, which their keenness after their troubles made the more merry.
Camp Dorothy was the name of the new tent that Mrs. Harriwell had sent up immediately after her daughter's installation with the campers. With the express came two maids, one for work, and the other to look after Molly. Mrs. Harriwell had to be content with stopping at a nearby hotel, but every day she came over to the camp, and really was almost like a young girl herself, so great was her joy in the sudden restoration of her daughter's health. It developed that the sick girl's case had been one of pure melancholia, following a shock of grief, and that her association with Dorothy and her friends was the one thing she most needed. The second shock, in falling, had restored her reason.
But Tavia could not forget that her fault had caused great trouble to Dorothy, and try as the latter did, she could not get Tavia to resume her usual good spirits.
"But it takes Nat," whispered Cologne, as he and Tavia sauntered off to catch imaginary trout. "Needn't worry about Tavia's nerves."
"I move," said Ralph, "that the—heroine—ahem, be excused from duty for the period of two weeks. Every time I ask Dorothy to go for a sail, she has to wash dishes."
Dorothy blushed prettily. "I must do my share of the housekeeping," she insisted. "Besides—it's fun."
Ralph was not to be put off this time, however, and he declared that if Dorothy did not go for a sail with him that very afternoon—he—would—drown—himself.
"Oh, such luck!" shouted Ned. "Too many fellows around here——"
Major Dale stood watching, but hardly listening.
"What's the answer, Uncle?" asked Ned, seeing that the major had something to say.
"I have just been wondering," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "what would have happened if Dorothy had not gone up that tree. And you boys——"
"That's all," interrupted Nat, who had returned to the group. "You are excused."
"I have been wondering," put in Mrs. Harriwell, who, with Mrs. Markin, was enjoying the afternoon on the porch within hearing distance, "what would have happened if Dorothy had not been mistaken for Molly. It was a lucky mistake."
But Dorothy insisted she had done nothing extraordinary. Yet she could not help but wonder what would happen next. And what did happen will be told in another book, to be called, "Dorothy Dale's School Rivals," in which we shall learn the particulars of some stirring doings at Glenwood Academy.
"All the same," declared Tavia, a little sheepishly, "I don't believe it pays to try to keep Dorothy out when there's a question of——"
"Common sense," finished Cologne. "There's the cowbell. And it's Tavia's turn to cook supper!"
Tavia sprang up and darted down the path. Nat followed.
"She hasn't learned to work yet," commented Cologne. She never knew a thing about how Tavia darned the station master's socks.
Camp Dorothy had been closed tight all day. As tea-time struck, the maid threw up the big flap. "Surprise! Surprise!" she called, and such a feast as was spread! The very best that could be obtained for miles about Everglade.