The Outdoor Girls Around the Campfire - Laura Lee Hope (best young adult book series txt) 📗
- Author: Laura Lee Hope
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One was short and fat, red of countenance, with a bald head and black, beady eyes that made Grace think of a canary bird. The second was a tall, lanky fellow with a long, lantern-jawed face and a cruel thin-lipped mouth.
Grace thought her heart would stop beating. In a moment, the unpleasant truth flashed upon her. They were alone on this remote island with two disreputable men who might be, probably were, desperate characters.
Wide-eyed, she looked at the Little Captain. What would she do? Betty was not long in answering that question.
Her little nose was up in the air and her eyes looked black as they flashed at the men.
“Please get out of our boat at once,” she said in a voice that was deadly quiet. “You have no right there and you know it.”
“Findin’s keepin’s, lady,” returned the fat tramp in an oily voice. “We’re havin’ a fine time. Why should we move?”
“Because I say so,” Betty shot back at him. “And I happen to own that boat.”
“Ah, now, lady,” whined the tall fellow, in a thin nasal voice, while he shifted his position to a more comfortable one, “you wouldn’t disturb two old fellers who are restin’ so pretty, would you now? You look like your heart wuz as kind as your face is pretty.”
At the look that followed these words Mollie stepped forward impulsively, flinging an arm about the Little Captain.
“You great big loafer!” she cried furiously, “you wouldn’t dare say a thing like that if we had a man with us. He—he’d duck you in the river till you were nearly dead.”
“’Twould be a nice cool death to die this kind of weather,” retorted the tall rascal, with his evil grin. “Bring on your hero, lady. We’d like to meet him.”
“Sure,” sneered the other. “Where is the little dear?”
Mollie was about to retort when Betty laid a warning hand on her arm.
“Go over there,” she directed in a whisper, indicating by the barest motion of her hand the tree about which the rope attached to the Gem was wound, “and untie the knot in the rope. Don’t let them see you do it. Leave the rest to me.”
Mollie shot a sharp look at the Little Captain and by the light in her eyes decided that Betty had thought of a plan. She began immediately sidling over toward the tree, but seeing that the eyes of the tramps followed her, she paused and stooped over as though she were tying the lace of her boot.
At the same moment Betty’s voice came to her, clear and sharp as a pistol shot. She looked up and saw that the Little Captain grasped a black, ominous looking, object in her hand.
“It’s a pistol!” Mollie whispered, gaspingly.
Then seeing that the attention of the tramps was diverted from herself, she slipped over to the tree and began deftly pulling out the knot which Betty had put in the thick rope.
“A pistol,” she thought, her heart hammering. “How in the world did Betty get it?”
Meanwhile Betty was getting in a little fine work, the artistry of which the Outdoor Girls did not fully appreciate till afterward.
“Now I think you’ll move,” the Little Captain called to the startled tramps. Her voice was not like Betty’s at all, so thin and metallic it was. There was resolution in that voice, and the tramps knew she meant what she said. “I’ll give you till I count up to ten,” she went on. “Then if you’re not both completely out of sight I’ll try my aim on you. I’m very much in need of a little practice.”
But she did not need count up to five. Out of that boat leaped the two men, the tall one’s long legs carrying him a little in advance of his fat comrade.
Headlong they scuttled up the side of the hill, making wildly for the shelter of the trees while Betty, turning so as to keep them covered, counted calmly and not too slowly, up to ten.
As the fleeing tramps disappeared from view at the counting of the last numeral, Betty excitedly turned her weapon on the girls.
“Get in the boat—get in!” she urged, flourishing the pistol wildly. “Get in before they find out it’s all a sh—sham. Don’t stand gaping there. Get in, I tell you!”
The girls obeyed, more for the sake of getting out of range of that wildly moving pistol than from fear of the tramps. They were still gasping and a bit dazed from the suddenness of what had happened when the putt-putt of the Gem’s engine fell reassuringly on their ears. At the same moment the little boat fairly leapt away from shore, Betty tensely grasping the wheel.
It was not till they were well out upon the river that Betty relaxed her position. Then, to the girls’ utter surprise and horror, she began to laugh hysterically.
“Mollie! Take the wheel! Do!” she cried, as the Gem zigzagged crazily across the water. “I’ve got to have my laugh out or I’ll d-die.”
Obediently Mollie took the wheel and the Little Captain made room for her. Then she covered her face with her hands and rocked back and forth with merriment—or tears. The girls were not sure which.
“Betty, are you crazy?” cried Mollie. “Stop it this minute and tell us what’s the matter with you.”
“There’s n-nothing the matter with me,” gasped Betty, lifting a face that was flushed with laughter. “Only it’s so—so—funny.”
“Come out of it, Betty Nelson, and explain yourself,” demanded Grace. “What’s so funny?”
“That!” replied Betty, making a little helpless movement with her hand toward the pistol which had dropped unnoticed to the deck. “They—those men—looked so—funny——” She began to laugh again while the girls looked at one another in despair.
“Poor Betty,” sighed Grace. “She was such a happy girl!”
“Never,” retorted Betty, her voice still tremulous with laughter, “as happy as she is at this minute. Oh, girls, it was such a good joke and it got across so beautifully.”
As she threatened to go off again into another paroxysm of mirth, Mollie leaned forward and picked up the pistol from the deck, holding it gingerly.
“If you don’t explain at once, Betty Nelson,” she threatened, “I’ll——” then she stopped while her eyes widened in amazement and dawning comprehension. “Why, it’s—it’s—a fake,” she stammered.
“You wretch,” cried Grace, while Amy leaned over Mollie’s shoulder to peer at the counterfeit weapon. “And all the time you fooled us as much as you did the tramps!”
“Well, you must admit they were some fooled,” said Betty, leaning back, weak with her laughter. “To see them galloping up the hill with a perfectly harmless little toy pointed at their backbone was a sight I’ll never forget. I—I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
A TOY PISTOL
The girls were sailing out in mid-stream now with the mouth of Rainbow Lake only a short half mile before them. And they were still discussing the tramps and Betty’s masterly treatment of them.
In spite of the joke that had been played with the toy pistol, there was an undercurrent of gravity in their conversation. It was impossible to help wondering what might have happened had not Betty been possessed of the toy pistol.
“How did you happen to have it?” asked Amy, curiously, referring to the weapon. “You didn’t say anything to us about it.”
“Didn’t think of it,” returned Betty. Once more she had the wheel and every once in a while she listened to the sound of the engine as though she were not yet quite satisfied with it. “Dad brought it home to me,” she was still speaking of the pistol, “a few nights ago. Said it might come in handy sometime, but if he were in my place he wouldn’t shoot unless it was absolutely necessary. Of course he meant it as a joke, but he didn’t know what a serious purpose it was going to serve.”
“I’ll say he didn’t,” said Mollie, thoughtfully. “I tremble to think what might have happened if you hadn’t had his little present handy.”
“Oh,” said Betty, confidently, “we’d have gotten rid of the tramps somehow.”
“I don’t know,” returned Mollie, soberly. “They looked like a pretty mean pair, and I don’t think they had any notion of giving up the Gem till you flashed the pistol at them.”
“Do you think,” asked Amy, wide-eyed, “that they meant to steal the boat?”
“More than likely,” said Grace, opening a box of fudge bought for this occasion. “They knew we couldn’t do anything. What are four girls anyway against two men?”
“A great deal if they happen to be Outdoor Girls,” said Betty staunchly. “We haven’t lived in the open so much without developing pretty good muscles, you know.”
“Just the same,” Grace persisted, “I reckon we’d have had a pretty hard time making them move.”
“Well, we did make ’em move, anyway, which is the main point,” said the Little Captain, sensibly. “And now suppose we forget about them. Look,” she pointed eagerly ahead of them, “there’s where Rainbow Lake begins. Not very far now, girls.”
“Hip, hip, hooray!” shouted Mollie irrepressibly. “I can’t wait to get a glimpse of your brother’s shack, Amy.”
Amy smiled dreamily.
“I tell you what,” she said. “Let’s make a big campfire to-night after dinner and all sit around it and tell stories. I’m just aching for a sniff of burning wood.”
“We’ll give you more than a sniff, honey,” returned the Little Captain, merrily. “We’ll build a fire that will make the birdie’s eyes pop out.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Mollie, longingly. “I say, Betty, don’t you suppose we could work a little more speed out of the Gem? We don’t seem to be making much progress.”
Betty looked worried.
“I’m doing my best,” she said. “But somehow she doesn’t work very well. There’s still something wrong with the engine. It’s kicking like a bucking broncho.”
“Let’s hope it holds out till we get to camp, anyway,” said Grace, prayerfully. “We don’t want to stop at any more islands for repairs.”
“It’s getting late too,” said Amy anxiously. “We don’t want to get there after dark.”
Betty laughed.
“Why, there isn’t a chance in the world of that now,” she said, adding with a chuckle: “Why, we’re near enough now to get out and tow the Gem along shore and still get there before dark. Isn’t that the rock your brother spoke of, Amy?” she asked eagerly, pointing to a huge rock, whose jagged contour suggested a horse’s head, looming directly ahead of them.
Unless she was mistaken it was this rock which Henry Blackford had told them to look out for, as the cabin was situated a scant mile further down the lake.
Amy followed Betty’s pointing finger and cried out eagerly.
“That’s it,” she said. “There couldn’t be two rocks like that at this end of the lake.”
“Looks as if our journey were almost ended, girls,” said Grace, sighing as she reluctantly placed the cover on her box of fudge. “We shall soon see the spot where we are to spend two riotous months——”
“Maybe so and maybe not,” interrupted Betty in so chagrined a voice that they looked at her in surprise. And then they noticed that the rhythmic sound of the engine had ceased.
“Now what’s the matter?” asked Mollie, frowning.
“Search me,” returned the Little Captain, cheerfully. “I beg your indulgence, ladies, till I find what’s up.”
But she could not find “what was up,” and neither, for that matter, could any of the other girls. 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
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