CHAPTER XXXIII

CHAPTER XXXIII

RESTORATION

RESTORATION

RESTORATION

“Well, it isn’t as bad as it might be,” said Dr. Morse after he had examined Hadee. “Of course it would have been better to have had the bone set sooner, but there’s no great harm done. But I must get her to some other place than this to work over her. I haven’t room here.”

“Take her to our camp,” proposed Natalie.

“No, she wouldn’t ride well in a boat. I’ll just send Old Hanson back for a farm wagon, and have him put a mattress in it. She can ride on that as well as in an ambulance. I guess the Richardson’s will take her in. They have plenty of room. I was just there on a call when Hanson found me. Mr. Richardson has a little bilious attack. This girl will be very comfortable there. His wife is a fine cook, and they have hired help.”

Dr. Morse explained to Old Hanson what was wanted, and the hermit started off after the wagon. Hadee was gotten downstairs, and made as comfortable as possible.

The Camp Fire Girls were anxious to hear her story but Dr. Morse would not let her talk.

“It will do later,” he said. “She has a slight fever, and I don’t want any more inflammation in that leg than I can help.”

There was the sound of wheels down the road. A farm wagon hove in sight, Old Hanson sitting on the seat beside the driver.

As Hadee was carried out the old hermit, who had been hovering about caught a glimpse of her face. He started, took a few steps forward, clutched at his heart and cried:

“Girl—girl! Who was your mother?”

“Hush! We mustn’t have any excitement,” warned the doctor, thinking the old man’s mind, never considered strong, was leading him astray.

“Her mother! Her mother!” cried Hanson. “I can see her mother’s face! She is my daughter’s child—I know it. She has been restored to me! Oh, child, where is your mother?”

“Now—now!” protested Dr. Morse. “You can’t——”

But Hanson had pushed his way forward, and was now beside the wagon, in which Hadee lay on the mattress. There was a flush on her pale face.

“What does he mean?” she asked slowly.

“I don’t know,” answered Dr. Morse testily.

“I’ll explain!” said Hanson eagerly. “I’m not crazy—let me talk. Everybody doesn’t know my story—some around here do—you do, Dr. Morse. I tell you that girl is my daughter’s child. Tell me,” he appealed to Hadee, “do you know who your mother and father were?”

“They are both dead,” she said softly, “but I have been told that my mother was not a Gypsy.”

“Of course she was not!” cried Hanson. “She was my daughter, and she ran away and married a Gypsy—a handsome chap he was, too. It broke my heart—it made me lose all hope in life. But now my granddaughter is restored to me. And so you were the ghost of the mill?”

“I hid there after I ran away,” said Hadee. “I wouldn’t do as they wanted me to——”

“You had better not talk, dear,” said Mrs. Bonnell gently placing her hand on the girl’s hot forehead.

“Oh, well, maybe she’ll feel better to have it over with,” said Dr. Morse resignedly. “Are you sure about this, Hanson?”

“Positive. She is the image of my lost daughter. She must have a birth-mark on her neck—all the Rossmore’s had it.”

“There is a mark there,” said Natalie. “I saw it.”

“And are you really my grandfather?” murmured Hadee.

“I sure am, girl.”

“Then I’m not a Gypsy.”

“Only half; and you won’t be that much any more. You’re coming to live with me. I’ve got a little money put away, and we’ll live for each other now. I couldn’t keep my daughter—maybe I was too harsh with her—but I won’t be with you, Hadee,” and he gazed lovingly at her.

“Now, this will just have to stop!” declared Dr. Morse firmly. “I insist on the patient being kept quiet. She may be your daughter’s child, Hanson, but if you want to keep her with you don’t set her into more of a fever than she has already. Drive on, Pete. I’ll follow in my carriage. See you later,” he called to the Camp Fire Girls and their boy friends.

“Well, what do you know about this?” gasped Jack, as the carriage of the doctor and the other wagon disappeared down the road. “You girls have certainly beaten us all to pieces! You discover the ghost, get back the diamond ring and restore a long-lost child to her grandfather. Wow!”

“Tell us all about it,” demanded Blake.

“We can’t until we hear Hadee’s story,” said Natalie.

And they heard that the next day. The broken leg had been set, and put in a plaster cast. Then, with the permission of Dr. Morse, Hadee, sitting up in bed in the Richardson home, told her story.

She had been with the Gypsy band all her life, traveling about the country. When she became old enough her mother had told her something of the tragedy of her own story. Hanson Rossmore’s daughter had met a handsome Gypsy lad, and fallen in love with him. Her father opposed her, but she ran away and was legally married to him. Then, feeling unable to return to her father, the girl took up a life with the nomads. Hadee was the only child, and when her parents died she remained with the tribe. She became one of the best fortune tellers.

It was Hadee who called at the Anderson home that night the ring disappeared.

“But I did not take it,” she said. “It fell down from the table into the folds of my sash. I discovered it when I got back to camp, but Neezar, who calls herself our queen, would not let me take it back. Then the camp was quickly moved away, and I did not have a chance to return—the diamond.

“I kept it with me, however, refusing to give it up, though they tried to make me. Life was very hard. Then came the taking of the farmer’s wife’s pocket-book. I did not do that, it was another of our band who used my name. When I heard of the trouble I tried to run away, but they watched me too close.

“Finally I got the chance, and, I came to this old mill. I stayed here nights and went out by day, as I could, to get food. I guess I took something from my grandfather here, and from your camp,” she said, with a shy smile at the boys. “I needed things. There was a handkerchief——”

“Mine—but you may keep it,” said Blake.

“And the canoe,” went on Hadee. “The boat I came in drifted away.”

“Jove! It’s good to get that canoe back,” said Jack.

“It’s hidden back of the mill,” went on the Gypsy girl. “I have stayed here ever since.”

“And was it your face I saw at the window?” asked Natalie.

“Yes,” assented Hadee. “I was afraid you would come and find me that time. Then I found the secret room, and stayed there. I stole softly down in the night when the boys were here, and took some of their things when they were asleep,” she said shyly. “I needed them.”

“Oh, we were easy marks,” admitted Phil with a laugh.

“I needed the knife and matches,” the Gypsy girl went on, “but I’ll give them back. The food I ate.”

“You’re welcome to it,” said Blake kindly.

“I also took a few things from your camp,” she said to the girls.

“The olives and sardines?” asked Marie.

Hadee nodded.

“I was sorry when—when my grandfather moved out. I didn’t know he was any relative,” she resumed. “I didn’t mean to scare him, but I suppose I did. I cried because I was lonesome and afraid.”

“That’s all right!” exclaimed Hanson Rossmore. “As long as I’ve got some kin now, I don’t mind. I’m going to sell the old mill—I’ve got an offer for the property, and we’ll live together where nothing will remind us of it—Ethel Rose.”

“Ethel!” exclaimed Natalie. They could all see how much Natalie resembled the Gypsy girl.

“Yes, I’m going to call her that,” said the old man. “I don’t want any more Gypsy names.”

“Well, I guess that explains everything,” said Jack. “So there was no ghost after all.”

“No. And Natalie proved it!” declared Marie. “Oh, you dear girl!” and she put her arms around her chum.

“Let’s get back to camp and have a celebration,” proposed Jack. “We’ll have enough to talk about for a month.”

Hadee, or Ethel Rose Rossmore, to give her the name she was thenceforth to bear, rapidly recovered from her accident, and she and her grandfather made arrangements to board in the village until he could dispose of his property. The Gypsy camp was broken up, its members going whither no one knew. There were many complaints about them for small thefts, and arrests had been planned but too late.

After all the excitement quiet days followed. There were Council meetings and camp-fires, walks in the woods and cruises on the lake, when many songs were sung. Cora, Gertrude, Edna, Sadie and Margaret also paid a visit to the woods.

Mabel telegraphed the good news of the finding of the diamond ring to her mother, and the boys found their missing canoe and lantern where the Gypsy girl had left them.

“And so the mystery of the old mill is settled,” remarked Blake, as he and Natalie walked along the lake shore one day.

“Yes. It was like most ghosts—easily accounted for when you go at it right.”

“But if it hadn’t been for you it might never have been solved.”

“Oh, some one would have found poor little Hadee if I hadn’t.”

“Will you come over to the Point and dance to-night?” asked Blake, after a pause.

“Yes, if the others go. We won’t have many more chances. We are going to break camp next week.”

“So are we. Hasn’t it been a glorious summer?”

“Indeed, yes. All the girls are delighted with the Camp Fire idea. They are talking now of a winter in the woods.”

“Why not?” asked Blake. “A log cabin is the best place ever, in the snow.”

“Perhaps we may,” assented Natalie, and as she and Blake strolled on through the spicy woods, some one called:

“Wo-he-lo! Dogwood camp! Natalie!”

“They want me to come back,” said Natalie, softly.

“Don’t go yet,” begged Blake, and Natalie stayed.

THE END.

THE END.

THE END.

The next volume of this series will be entitled: “Camp Fire Girls on The Ice; Or, the Mystery of a Winter Cabin.”

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For Sale by all Book-sellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 40 cents

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M · A · DONOHUE · & · COMPANY711 · SOUTH · DEARBORN · STREET · · CHICAGO

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