CHAPTER XXVIIWHAT WAS THAT?
Dorothy stood very quiet for a moment, saying nothing, just staring at her chum.
Then suddenly she began to laugh—a wild sort of laughter that had tears in it.
Tavia looked at her sharply, then reached out a hand and gripped her hard.
“Dorothy, you’ve got to stop that!” she cried. “There isn’t anything to laugh about—really, you know.”
“That’s why I’m laughing, I guess!” retorted Dorothy.
But she had stopped her untimely mirth and was gazing moodily enough at the sodden, dreary forest about them.
“We shouldn’t be standing under a tree in a thunder and lightning storm,” she said absently. “It’s dangerous.”
It was Tavia’s turn to laugh.
“So I’ve heard,” she said. “And if you can tell me any way that we can avoid it, I’ll be very grateful. Oh, Doro, what’s the use? We are just stuck, that’s all.”
That fact was so obvious that Dorothy did not take the trouble to answer it.
“It’s all my fault,” said Tavia after a moment, her voice sounding queer and remote above the clamor of the storm. “I ought to have looked where I was going.”
“It isn’t your fault any more than mine,” Dorothy declared. “Anyway, nobody could look where she was going in this storm.”
“Well, I suppose we might as well go on,” said Tavia, slapping the reins upon the pony’s sleek and steaming back. “If we have luck we may stumble on the path.”
“Stumble is right,” said Dorothy wearily, as she urged her reluctant pony onward. “Oh, if I could only lie down somewhere,” she added, in a tone that she made sure would not reach Tavia. Then the absurdity of her wish appealed to her and in spite of the misery and danger of their predicament, she was forced to laugh at herself.
“So many nice comfortable places around here to lie down in,” she told herself, sweeping a hand about at the sodden landscape. “Although it would be hard to be more wet and miserable than we are just now,” she added.
They wandered on for a long time—they had no conception of just how long. Finally, because the chill was creeping into their bones and they felt stiff and cramped in their saddles, they dismountedand stumbled along on foot, leading their ponies.
At least they would get some exercise and keep the blood stirring in their veins.
Then at last relief came, or partial relief. The storm at last blew itself away and the sun—a faltering and late-afternoon sun, but the sun nevertheless—broke through the heavy clouds.
Tavia was inclined to greet him with loud exclamations of joy, but Dorothy was too bruised and anxious and miserable of mind and body to care very much whether the sun shone or not.
They sat down after a while on a couple of rocks that seemed not quite so wet as the surrounding country to talk things over.
“Garry and the rest of the handsome cowboys must be somewhere in the neighborhood,” said Tavia, determined to take a cheerful view. “And if one of them doesn’t stumble upon us Garry is sure to send out a searching party as soon as he finds we are gone.”
“But he won’t know we are gone till he gets back to the ranch, and that may be late to-night,” Dorothy pointed out to her, adding with a little moan: “What will he think of me when he finds what I have done!”
“What we have done,” corrected Tavia. “Anyway, he will be far too glad to get you back again to scold. You can be sure of that.”
“And Joe! We have done a lot toward finding Joe!” went on Dorothy bitterly. “Those men could have done anything they liked to him as far as we are concerned. As trailers we are a brilliant success!”
“We haven’t set the world on fire yet,” Tavia admitted, as she jumped briskly to her feet. “But there is no use giving up the old ship so soon. As long as we can’t find our way out of the trackless forest we might as well make good use of our time and keep on hunting for Joe.”
Dorothy stared at her chum for an instant. Then she also got to her feet, though stiffly and wearily. She was beginning to be achingly conscious of numerous bruises she had not known she possessed, of sharp twinges in her back and arms that made her want to cry aloud with the stabbing pain.
But if anything could be done, if there was the slightest chance of finding Joe—though this she doubted—she would not give up.
“You are a confirmed optimist, Tavia honey,” she said. “But I’m glad you are. You make a mighty-much cheerfuller companion, that way.”
“You said it!” Tavia replied, as they started on slowly, leading the horses. “Although I must confess that, internally, I am not as cheerful as I have sometimes been. Something whispers thatit has been a long, long time since I gratified my craving for sustenance.”
“Oh, I don’t believe I can ever eat again!” cried Dorothy.
“You just wait till somebody tries you on a good hot plate of stew or some good hot vegetable soup,” advised Tavia sagely. “My, what would I give for a sniff of Mrs. Hank Ledger’s kitchen just now!”
“Oh, don’t! What is the use!” cried Dorothy, and to Tavia’s complete surprise and dismay she began to cry, not violently, but softly and pathetically as if she could no longer check the tears.
“Doro darling!” cried Tavia, putting an arm about her chum in instant sympathy and alarm. “What is the matter? You? Why, you never did this before!”
“I know it,” replied Dorothy, dabbing at her eyes with a sodden handkerchief. “But I ache so, Tavia, and I am so frightened about Joe, and I wish Garry were here. Then, when you spoke of the ranch kitchen, it was just about the last straw!”
“You might know I would go and put my foot in it!” cried Tavia penitently and quite at a loss what to do next. “You poor girl. You got horribly banged up with that fall. If you weren’t the best sport ever you wouldn’t go on at all. But honestly, Doro, I don’t know what to do.”
“Of course you don’t,” cried Dorothy, trying to smile and succeeding pretty well, considering. “And I am a goose to act this way——”
She stopped short, a curious expression leaping to her eyes.
What was that she had heard?
Had it been a wail—a cry for help?
Nonsense! In this wilderness?
Again it came, and this time unmistakable.
She clung to Tavia, her face terrible to see in its agony of doubt, of sudden hope.
“Some one is in trouble!”
Tavia whispered the words as though loth to break the tense silence between them.
But suddenly Dorothy broke from her, running wildly, blindly through the woods.
“It’s all right, Joe darling! I’m coming! Dorothy’s coming!”