For there was the burden of a secret on Ruth Fielding's mind and heart. She had slipped away when she saw The Fox appear in the outer cabin and, walking forward, had been stopped suddenly in a cross gallery by a firm touch upon her arm.
"Sh! Mademoiselle!"
Before she looked into the shadowy place she realized that it was the harpist. His very presence so near her made Ruth shrink and tremble for an instant. But then she recovered her self-possession and asked, unshakenly:
"What do you want of me?"
"Ah, Mademoiselle! Kind Mademoiselle!" purred the great creature—and Ruth knew well what his villainous smile must look like, although she could not see it. "May the unfortunate vagabond musician speak a single word into Mademoiselle's ear?"
"You have spoken several words into it already, sir," said Ruth, sharply. "What do you want?"
"Ah! the Mademoiselle is so practical," murmured the harpist again.
"Be quick," commanded Ruth, for although she had a strong repugnance for the fellow there was no reason why she should fear him, with so many people within call. "State your reason for stopping me, sir."
"The Mademoiselle is from the school—the institute where learning is taught the lo-fe-ly Misses?"
He thus made three syllables of "lovely" and Ruth knew that he leered like a Billiken in the dark.
"I am at Briarwood Hall—yes," she said.
"I have seen the kind Mademoiselle before," said the man. "On the boat on that other so-beeg lake—Osago, is it?"
"On theLanawaxa—yes," admitted Ruth.
"Ah! I am proud. The Mademoiselle remember me," he exclaimed, bowing in the dark alley.
"Go on," urged Ruth, impatiently.
"It is of the leetle lady—Mademoiselle Picolet—I would speak," he said, more quickly.
"Our French teacher—yes."
"Then, knowing her, will the Mademoiselle take a small note from the poor musician to the good Picolet? 'Tis a small matter—no?"
"You want me to do this without telling anybody about it?" questioned Ruth, bluntly.
"Oui, oui, Mademoiselle! You have the discernment beyond your years. Indeed!"
"I knew it must be something underhanded you wanted," declared Ruth, boldly.
He laughed and Ruth saw a small envelope thrust toward her in the dusk of the passage. "You will take it?" he said.
"I will take it—providing you do not come there again," exclaimed Ruth.
"Come where?" he demanded.
"To the school. To the campus where the fountain is."
"Ha! you knowthat, my pretty bird?" he returned. "Well! this will perhaps relieve the good Picolet of my presence—who knows?"
"Then I will take it," Ruth said, hastily, her hand closing on the billet.
"Comme il faut," he said, and went away down the passage, humming in his bassoon voice.
And so, as she sped shoreward between her two friends, Ruth had the little letter tucked away in the bosom of her frock. The secret troubled her. She was really glad to say good bye to Tom at the landing, and all the way back in the wagonette, although Helen sat close to her and tried to show her how sorry she was for her past neglect, Ruth was very silent.
For she was much disturbed by this secret. She feared she was doing wrong in carrying the note to Miss Picolet. Yet, under different circumstances, she might have thought little of it. But after her talk with Mrs. Tellingham about the mystery of the campus, she was troubled to think that she was taking any part in the French teacher's private affairs.
Helen was so filled with the excitement of the day, and of her long talk with her twin brother, that she did not observe Ruth's distraught manner.
"And we'll have such fun!" Ruth finally awoke to hear her chum declare in a whisper. "Father's always promised to get a place in the woods, and Snow Camp is a delightful spot."
"What are you talking about, Helen?" demanded Ruth, suddenly.
"I don't believe you've heard a thing I've been saying," cried her chum.
"I haven't heard everything," admitted Ruth. "But tell me now; I'll listen."
"It's about the Christmas Holidays. You shall go with us. We're going 'way up in the woods—to a hunting camp that father has bought. We were there for a week-end once when Mr. Parrish owned it. Snow Camp is the most delightful place."
"I am sure you will have a fine time," Ruth said, generously.
"And so you will, too," declared Helen, "for you're going."
"Mydear! I am going home to the Red Mill at Christmas."
"And we'll go home for Christmas, too; but there are three weeks' holidays, and two of them we will spend at Snow Camp. Oh, yes we will!" Helen cried. "I'd cry my eyes out if you didn't go, Ruth."
"But Uncle Jabez——"
"We'll just tease him until he lets you go. He'll not object much, I'm sure. I should just cry my eyes out if you didn't go with us, Ruthie," she repeated.
The plan for the winter holidays sank into insignificance in Ruth's mind, however, when they left the carriages and ran over to the West Dormitory just as evening was falling. Mercy waved a white hand to them from her window as they crossed the campus; but Ruth allowed Helen to run ahead while she halted in the lower corridor and asked Miss Scrimp if the French teacher was in her room.
"Oh, yes, Miss Ruthie," said the matron. "Miss Picolet is in. You can knock."
As Ruth asked this question and received its answer she saw Mary Cox come in alone at the hall door. The Fox had not spoken to Ruth since the accident on the ice. Now she cast no pleasant glance in Ruth's direction. Yet, seeing the younger girl approaching Miss Picolet's door, Mary smiled one of her very queerest smiles, nodded her head with secret satisfaction, and marched on upstairs to her own study.
"Enter!" said Miss Picolet's soft voice in answer to Ruth's timid rap on the panel of the door.
The girl entered and found the little French teacher sewing by the window. Miss Picolet looked up, saw who it was, and welcomed Ruth with a smile.
"I hope you have had a joyful day, Miss Ruth," she said. "Come to the radiator—you are cold."
"I am going to run upstairs in a moment, Mademoiselle," said Ruth, hesitatingly. "But I have a message for you."
"A message for me?" said the lady, in surprise.
"Yes, ma'am."
"From the Preceptress, Ruth?"
"No, Miss Picolet. It—it is a letter that has been given me to be handed to you—secretly."
The little teacher's withered cheek flushed and her bright little eyes clouded. By the way one of her hands fluttered over her heart, too, Ruth knew that Miss Picolet was easily frightened.
"A letter for me?" she whispered.
Ruth was unbuttoning her coat and frock to get at the letter. She said:
"There was an orchestra on that boat that was frozen into the ice, Miss Picolet. One of the musicians spoke to me. He knew you—or said he did——"
The girl hated to go on, Miss Picolet turned so pale and looked so frightened. But it had to be done, and Ruth pursued her story:
"I had seen the man before—the day we came to school here, Helen and I. He played the harp on theLanawaxa."
"Ah!" gasped the French woman, holding out her hand. "No more, my dear! I understand. Let me have it."
But now Ruth hesitated and stammered, and felt in the bosom of her dress with growing fear. She looked at Miss Picolet, her own face paling.
"Oh, Miss Picolet!" she suddenly burst out. "What will you think? What can I say?"
"What—what is the matter?" gasped the French teacher.
"I—I haven't got it—it is gone!"
"What do you mean, Ruth Fielding?" cried Miss Picolet, springing to her feet.
"It's gone—I've lost it! Oh, my dear Miss Picolet! I didn't mean to. I tried to be so careful. But I have lost the letter he gave me addressed to you!"
The next day the whole school were at their books again—the short Thanksgiving recess was ended. It had been just a breathing space for the girls who really were anxious to stand well in their classes at Briarwood Hall. Those who—like some of the Upedes—desired nothing so much as "fun," complained because the vacation had been so short, and dawdled over their books again.
But there was no dawdling in Duet Two, West Dormitory. Had Helen been inclined to lapse occasionally, or Ruth sunk under the worriment of mind which had borne her down since the day of the skating party on Triton Lake, Mercy Curtis kept the two chums to the mark.
"No shirking, you young ones!" commanded the crippled girl, in her sharp way. "Remember the hare would have won the race easily if he hadn't laid down to nap beside the course. Come! some tortoise will beat you in French and Latin yet, Helen, if you don't keep to work. And go to work at that English composition, Ruthie Remissness! You'd both be as lazy as Ludlum's dog if it wasn't for me."
And so she kept them up to the work, and kept herself up, too. There wasn't much time for larking now, if one wished to stand well at the end of the term. The teachers watched for shirkers more closely, too. Even Mary Cox and her friends next door showed some signs of industry.
"Although it does seem as though we were always being worked to death," groaned Heavy, one day, to Ruth. "I feel as though my constitution was actually breaking down under the strain. I've written to my father that if he wants to see even a shadow of my former self at Christmas, he had better tell Mrs. Tellingham not to force me so!"
She sighed breezily and looked so hard at the piece of cocoanut pie beside Ruth's plate (having eaten her own piece already) that Ruth laughed and pushed it toward her.
"Have it if you like, Heavy," she said. "I am not very hungry."
"Well, there isn't quite so much of you to nourish, my dear," declared Jennie Stone, more briskly. "I reallydofeel the need of an extra piece. Thank you, Ruth! You're a good little thing."
"Miss Picolet will see you, Ruth," whispered Helen, on her other side. "She is disgusted with Heavy's piggishness. But Miss Picolet, after all, won't say anything to you. You are her pet."
"Don't say that, Helen," replied Ruth, with some sadness. "I am sorry for Miss Picolet."
"I don't see why you need be. She seems to get along very well," returned her chum.
But Ruth could not forget how the little French teacher had looked—how frightened she was and how tearful—the afternoon when Ruth had told her of the incident aboard theMinnetonka, and of her loss of the mysterious letter sent by the harpist. The little French woman had begged her not to blame herself for the loss of the letter; she had only begged her to say nothing to a soul about either the man or the letter. And Ruth had kept the secret.
Nearly a fortnight had passed since the occurrence, and it lacked not many days to the close of the term, when one evening, after a meeting of the S. B.'s in their usual room over the dining hall, Ruth had been delayed a bit and was hurrying out alone so as not to be caught out of the dormitory after warning bell, when old Tony Foyle hailed her.
"I was a-goin' to the West Dormitory to ax Miss Scrimp for to call ye, Miss Ruthie," said the old Irishman, who—like most of the help about the school—was fond of the girl from the Red Mill. "Ye're wanted, Miss."
"Wanted?" asked Ruth, in surprise. "Who by?"
"The Missus wants ye—Missus Tellingham. Ye're ter go straight to her study, so ye are."
Much disturbed—for she feared there might be bad news from home—Ruth ran to the main building and knocked on Mrs. Tellingham's door. At her pleasantly spoken "Come in!" the girl entered and found the Preceptress at her desk, while the old doctor, quite as blind and deaf to everything but his own work as usual, was bent over his papers at the end of the long table. But at this hour, and in the privacy of the place, he had cocked the brown wig over one ear in the most comical way, displaying a perfectly bald, shiny patch of pate which made his naturally high forehead look fairly enormous.
"Nothing to be frightened about, Miss Fielding," said Mrs. Tellingham, instantly reading aright what she saw in Ruth's countenance. "You need not be disturbed. For I really do not believe you are at fault in this matter which has been brought to my notice."
"No, Mrs. Tellingham?" asked Ruth, curiously.
"I have only a question to ask you. Have you lost something—something that might have been entrusted to you for another person? Some letter, for instance?"
The color flashed into Ruth's face. She was always thinking about the note the harpist had given to her on the steamboat to take to Miss Picolet. She could not hide her trouble from the sharp eyes of Mrs. Tellingham.
"Youhavelost something?"
"I don't know whether I should tell you. I don't know that I have a right to tell you," Ruth stammered.
Mrs. Tellingham looked at her sharply for a minute or so, and then nodded. Then she said:
"I understand. You have been put on your honor not to tell?"
"Yes, Mrs. Tellingham. It is not my secret."
"But there is a letter to be recovered?"
"Ye-es."
"Is this it?" asked Mrs. Tellingham, suddenly thrusting under Ruth's eye a very much soiled and crumpled envelope. And it had been unsealed, Ruth could see. The superscription was to "Mademoiselle Picolet."
"It—it looks like it," Ruth whispered. "But it was sealed when I had it."
"I do not doubt it," said Mrs. Tellingham, with a shake of her head. "But the letter was given to me first, and then the envelope. The—the person who claims to have found it when you dropped it, declared it to be open then."
"Oh, I do not think so!" cried Ruth.
"Well. Enough that I know its contents. You do not?"
"Indeed, no, Mrs. Tellingham. I may have done wrong to agree to deliver the letter. But I—I was so sorry for her——"
"I understand. I do not blame you in the least, child," said Mrs. Tellingham, shortly. "This letter states that the writer expects more money from our Miss Picolet—poor thing! It states that if the money is not forthcoming to an address he gives her before to-day—to-day, mind you, is the date—he will come here for it. It is, in short, a threat to make trouble for Miss Picolet. And the person finding this letter when you dropped it has deliberately, I believe, retained it until to-day before bringing it to me, for the express purpose of letting the scoundrel come here and disturb Miss Picolet's peace of mind."
"Oh, how mean!" gasped Ruth, involuntarily.
"Mean indeed, Ruth," said the Preceptress, gravely. "And you have yourself experienced some ill-usage from the person who has played spy and informer in this matter, since you have come to Briarwood Hall. I understand—you know that little can go on about the school that does not reach my ears in one way or another—that this same person has called you a 'tattle-tale' and tried to make your friends among the girls believe that you played traitor to them on a certain occasion. I have told Miss Cox exactly what I think of her action in this case," and she tapped the letter before her. "She has shown plainly," said Mrs. Tellingham, with sternness, "that she is a most sly and mean-spirited girl. I am sorry that one of the young ladies of Briarwood Hall is possessed of so contemptible a disposition."
It was a frosty night and snow lay smoothly upon the campus. Only the walks and the cemented place about the fountain were cleaned. Tony Foyle had made his last rounds and put out the lights; but although there was no moon the starlight on the snow made the campus silvery in spots. But the leafless trees, and the buildings about the open space, cast deep shadows.
There was a light shining in a study window of the West Dormitory and that light was in the room occupied by the Triumvirate—Ruth Fielding, Helen Cameron and Mercy Curtis. The two latter were abed, but awake and wondering why Ruth had not returned, and what Miss Scrimp had meant by coming to the door and telling them to leave the light burning.
The clocks had long since struck eleven and it was close to midnight. The night was still, for there was no wind. It was possible that very few of either the scholars, teachers, or servants at Briarwood were awake. But almost directly under the light in the Triumvirate's room another light burned—in the study of the French teacher. She seldom retired early; that is one reason why those girls who considered Miss Picolet their enemy believed she was always on the watch.
Three figures came out of the basement door under the tower of Briarwood Hall—a lady much bundled up, a girl ditto, and the old Irishman, Tony Foyle.
"Sure, ma'am, jest as I told ye this afternoon, the big felly that sassed me last fall, tryin' ter git in ter play his harp, and with his other vagabonds, was hanging around again to-day. I hear him an' his rapscallion companions is in Lumberton. They've been playing about here and there, for a month back. And now I see him comin' along with his harp on his back—bad 'cess to him! P'raps they're walkin' across to Sivin Oaks, an' are takin' in Briarwood as a 'cross-cut'."
"Hush!" whispered the Preceptress. "Isn't that somebody over yonder—by the fountain?"
They were all three silent, keeping close in the shadow. Some objectdidseem to be moving in the shadow of the fountain. Suddenly there sounded on the still night air the reverberating note of a harp—a crash of sound following the flourish of a practised hand across the wires.
"Bless us and save us!" muttered Tony. "'Tis the marble harp. 'Tis a banshee playin'."
"Be still!" commanded Mrs. Tellingham. "It is nothing of the kind, you very well know, Tony. Ah!"
She had looked instantly toward the illuminated window of the French teacher's study at the other side of the campus. The shade had snapped up to the top of the casement, and the shadow of Miss Picolet appeared. The French teacher had heard the voice of the harp.
"Oh, poor little thing," murmured Mrs. Tellingham. "This seems like spying and eavesdropping, Ruth Fielding; but I mean to stop this thing right here and now. She shall not be frightened out of her wits by this villain."
They heard no further sound from the harp at the fountain. But the door of the West Dormitory opened and the little figure of Miss Picolet appeared, wrapped in some long, loose garment, and she sped down toward the fountain. Soon she was out of sight behind the marble statue.
"Come!" breathed the Preceptress.
They heard Miss Picolet and the man chattering in their own language—the man threatening, the woman pleading—when the trio got to the fountain. Ruth was a poor French scholar, but of course Mrs. Tellingham understood what they said. And the Preceptress glided around the fountain and confronted the harpist with a suddenness that quite startled him.
"You, sir!" exclaimed the lady, coldly. "I have heard enough of this. Don't be frightened, Miss Picolet. I only blame you for not coming to me. I have long known your circumstances, and the fact that you are poor, and that you have an imbecile sister to support, and that this man is your disreputable half-brother. And that he threatens to hang about here and make you lose your position unless you pay him to be good, is well known to me, too.
"We will have no more of this fellow's threats," continued Mrs. Tellingham, sternly. "You will give him none of your hard-earned money, Miss Picolet. Tony, here, shall see him off the grounds, and if he ever appears here again, or troubles you, let me know and I shall send him to jail for trespass. Now, remember—you Jean Picolet! I have your record and the police at Lumberton shall have it, too, if you ever trouble your sister again."
"Ah-ha!" snarled the big man, looking evilly at Ruth. "So the little Mademoiselle betrayed me; did she?"
"She has had nothing to do with it—save to have had the misfortune of losing the letter you gave her to deliver to Miss Picolet," Mrs. Tellingham said, briefly. "I had her here to identify you, had Miss Picolet not come out to meet you. Now, Tony!"
And big as the harpist was, and little as the old Irishman seemed, there was that in Tony Foyle's eye that made the man pick up his harp in a hurry and make his way from the campus.
"Child! go in to bed," said Mrs. Tellingham. "Not a word of this, remember. Thank goodness,youare one girl who can keep a secret. Miss Picolet, I want to see you in my study. I hope that, hereafter, you will give me your confidence. For you need fear no dismissal from the school over such a misfortune as is visited upon you."
She took the sobbing, trembling French teacher away with her while Ruth ran up to Duet Two in the West Dormitory, in a much excited state of mind.
Fortunately both Helen and Mercy had dropped to sleep and none of the other girls seemed to have heard the harp at midnight. So there was no talk this time about the Ghost of the Campus. To the other girls at Briarwood, the mystery remained unsolved, and the legend of the marble harp was told again and again to the Infants who came to the school, with the added point that, on the night Ruth Fielding and Helen Cameron had come to the hall, the marble harp was again heard to sound its ghostly note.
No thought of such foolish, old-wives' fables troubled Ruth Fielding's dreams as she lay down on this night which had seen the complete exposure of the campus mystery and the laying of the campus ghost. She dreamed, instead, of completing her first term at Briarwood with satisfaction to herself and her teachers—which she did! She dreamed of returning to the old Red Mill and being joyfully received by Aunt Alviry and Uncle Jabez—which she did! She dreamed, too, of joining Helen Cameron and her mid-winter party at Snow Camp and enjoying quantities of fun and frolic in the wintry woods; which, likewise, came true, and which adventures will be related in good time In the next volume of this series: "Ruth Fielding at Snow Camp; Or, Lost in the Backwoods."
"I am so glad it is over!" said Ruth to herself, as she retired. "I hope there is no more trouble."
And here let us for the time being say good bye to Ruth Fielding and her chums of Briarwood Hall.
THE END
Ruth Fielding was an orphan and came to live with her miserly uncle. Her adventures and travels make stories that will hold the interest of every reader.
Ruth Fielding is a character that will live in juvenile fiction.
1. RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL2. RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOOD HALL3. RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP4. RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT5. RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH6. RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND7. RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM8. RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES9. RUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURES10. RUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIE11. RUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGE12. RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE13. RUTH FIELDING IN THE RED CROSS14. RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT15. RUTH FIELDING HOMEWARD BOUND16. RUTH FIELDING DOWN EAST17. RUTH FIELDING IN THE GREAT NORTHWEST18. RUTH FIELDING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE19. RUTH FIELDING TREASURE HUNTING20. RUTH FIELDING IN THE FAR NORTH21. RUTH FIELDING AT GOLDEN PASS22. RUTH FIELDING IN ALASKA23. RUTH FIELDING IN HER GREAT SCENARIO24. RUTH FIELDING AT CAMERON HALL25. RUTH FIELDING CLEARING HER NAME26. RUTH FIELDING IN TALKING PICTURES27. RUTH FIELDING AND BABY JUNE
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
May Hollis Barton is a new writer for girls who is bound to win instant popularity. Her style is somewhat of a reminder of that of Louisa M. Alcott, but thoroughly up-to-date in plot and action. Clean tales that all the girls will enjoy reading.
1. THE GIRL FROM THE COUNTRY2. THREE GIRL CHUMS AT LAUREL HALL3. NELL GRAYSON'S RANCHING DAYS4. FOUR LITTLE WOMEN OF ROXBY5. PLAIN JANE AND PRETTY BETTY6. LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE7. HAZEL HOOD'S STRANGE DISCOVERY8. TWO GIRLS AND A MYSTERY9. THE GIRLS OF LIGHTHOUSE ISLAND10. KATE MARTIN'S PROBLEM11. THE GIRL IN THE TOP FLAT12. THE SEARCH FOR PEGGY ANN13. SALLIE'S TEST OF SKILL14. CHARLOTTE CROSS AND AUNT DEB
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
A delightful series for girls who enjoy adventure and humor. The wholesome spirit and joyous youthfulness of Miss Wheeler's stories make of each new reader a new friend, and the reading of each succeeding volume further cements the friendship for the characters of Billie Bradley and her chums.
1. BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER INHERITANCE
or The Queer Homestead at Cherry Corners
Billie Bradley fell heir to an old homestead that was unoccupied and located far away in a lonely section of the country.
2. BILLIE BRADLEY AT THREE-TOWERS HALL
or Leading a Needed Rebellion
Three-Towers Hall was a boarding school for girls. For a time after Billie arrived all went well.
3. BILLIE BRADLEY ON LIGHTHOUSE ISLAND
or The Mystery of the Wreck
There was a severe storm that wrecked a ship from which three little children were washed ashore.
4. BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER CLASSMATES
or The Secret of the Locked Tower
Billie Bradley and her chums courageously come to the rescue of several little children who have broken through the ice.
5. BILLIE BRADLEY AT TWIN LAKES
or Jolly Schoolgirls Afloat and Ashore
A tale of the out-of-doors, in which Billie and her chums during their visit to an artists' colony become acquainted.
6. BILLIE BRADLEY AT TREASURE COVE
or The Old Sailor's Secret
How Billie Bradley heard of the Treasure, and how the girls meet with excitement, adventures, and strange characters in their endeavor to discover the old sailor's secret.
7. BILLIE BRADLEY AT SUN DIAL LODGE
or School Chums Solving a Mystery
The recovery of a stolen treasure chest forms the groundwork of an exciting story, that reveals Billie's ability at unraveling a mystery.
8. BILLIE BRADLEY AND THE SCHOOL MYSTERY
or The Girl from Oklahoma
How Billie clears up a mystery in which she is apparently implicated makes delightful reading.
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
Author of the "Ruth Fielding Series"
A new series of stories bound to make this writer more popular than ever with her host of girl readers. Every one will want to know Betty Gordon, and every one will be sure to love her.
1. BETTY GORDON AT BRAMBLE FARM2. BETTY GORDON IN WASHINGTON3. BETTY GORDON IN THE LAND OF OIL4. BETTY GORDON AT BOARDING SCHOOL5. BETTY GORDON AT MOUNTAIN CAMP6. BETTY GORDON AT OCEAN PARK7. BETTY GORDON AND HER SCHOOL CHUMS8. BETTY GORDON AT RAINBOW RANCH9. BETTY GORDON IN MEXICAN WILDS10. BETTY GORDON AND THE LOST PEARLS11. BETTY GORDON ON THE CAMPUS12. BETTY GORDON AND THE HALE TWINS13. BETTY GORDON AT MYSTERY FARM14. BETTY GORDON ON NO-TRAIL ISLAND
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
This new series of girls' books is in a new style of story writing. The interest is in knowing the girls and seeing them solve the problems that develop their character. Incidentally, a great deal of historical information is imparted.
1. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE MYSTERY HOUSE
or the Story of Nine Adventurous Girls
How the Linger-Not girls met and formed their club, and how they made their club serve a great purpose, introduces a new type of girlhood.
2. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE VALLEY FEUD
or the Great West Point Chain
The Linger-Not girls had no thought of becoming mixed up with feuds or mysteries, but their habit of being useful soon entangled them in some surprising adventures.
3. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THEIR GOLDEN QUEST
or The Log of the Ocean Monarch
For a club of girls to become involved in a mystery leading back into the times of the California gold-rush, and how the girls helped one of their friends to come into her rightful name and inheritance.
4. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE WHISPERING CHARM
or The Secret from Old Alaska
Whether engrossed in thrilling adventures in the Far North or occupied with quiet home duties, the Linger-Not girls could work unitedly and solve a colorful mystery.
5. THE LINGER-NOTS AND THE SECRET MAZE
or The Treasure-Trove on Battlefield Hill
The discovery of a thrilling treasure-trove at the end of the maze where the Linger-Nots learn many useful facts and the real secret of the hidden maze.
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York
A charming series of stories of a young American girl, Peggy Lee, living with her family (including many unusual pets) on a large coffee plantation in Central America, and her many adventures there and in New York.
The action is rapid, full of fun, and takes the reader not only to many interesting places in Central America, but in the country as well, where Peggy attends a school for girls. The incidents are cleverly brought out, and Peggy in her wistful way, proves in her many adventures to be a brave girl and an endearing heroine to her friends and readers.
1. PEGGY AND MICHAEL OF THE COFFEE PLANTATION2. PEGGY LEE OF THE GOLDEN THISTLE PLANTATION3. PEGGY LEE AND THE MYSTERIOUS ISLANDS
(Other Volumes in Preparation)
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York