"Dare we take it out ourselves?" asked Grace.
"I don't see why not," replied Mollie. "I can run a motor car, Betty can manage a motor boat, and this is sort of between them both. Of course we can run it!"
"Will you promise to go slow?" asked Amy, timidly.
"Of course," agreed Betty. "Anyhow the ice is so soft that we can't get as much speed out of it as the boys did the other day."
The outdoor girls were grouped about the auto ice boat at the little dock near their cabin. The boys had gone off on a hunt, a rumor of a bear having been seen about five miles off coming to them by a friendly lumberman.
The girls were discussing the advisability of going out for a little trip in the queer craft that Will and his chums had made. For a week past the boys had run it at various times, taking the girls out on trips, and explaining how the motor and notched wheel operated. The girlshad even run it for short distances themselves, under the tutelage of the boys.
A week has passed since it was first run and, though it was voted "great sport," the boys had rather tired of it, especially when the rumor of the bear reached them.
"Will said we could take it whenever we wanted to," spoke Grace, as she arranged some fur rugs in the cockpit. "But are you sure you can run it, Mollie—or Betty?"
"It's simple," replied Betty noncommittally. "It will do no harm to try."
"And it's easy to stop," said Mollie. "Even if we forget to shut off the engine, by pushing down on this handle, the wheel will be raised, and won't cut into the ice. Then it will stop."
"Just as when you throw out the clutch on your auto," suggested Betty.
"Exactly. Come on girls. We'll go for a little run. There's nothing else to do in camp."
The week had been rather a monotonous one, for the weather had turned warm, and the ice was not in good condition for skating. It was almost too soft for the boat, and the boys had rather given it up. But the girls wanted to do something, and the auto ice craft offered them a chance.
They had visited a hunters' camp a few daysbefore, and seen some novel sights, though game was not as plentiful as the hunters had wished.
"Well, if we're going—let's go!" cried Betty in a jolly voice, as she buttoned her sweater more closely about her, and saw that her cap fitted snugly.
"You must expect to get some speed out of it," returned Amy. "But remember you promised to go slow."
"We can't do much else—it's so soft," declared Mollie, digging the toe of her shoe into the surface of the ice.
"Well—let's mote!" exclaimed Grace. "I've got some chocolates, so that if the wind does out——"
"Wind! You forget we don't use a sail," cried Betty with a laugh. "We can get home in a dead calm. So if that's your only excuse for bringing chocolates——"
"We might run out of gasoline," Grace interrupted. "I'll take them, anyway."
"That's right, angel child!" murmured Mollie, "and I'll help you eat them," and she calmly appropriated the box Grace had produced, and selected some choice confections.
Just as the girls were about to leave, having shoved the ice boat out away from the dock so as to get a good start, Mr. Franklin, the campcare-taker, who had been over to a distant section, came running down to the dock.
"Do you think your father is back from his Western trip yet, Miss Ford?" he asked.
"Yes, I had a letter from home to-day, saying he would be home to-night. Why?"
"Well, those Jallows are acting mean again. They're cutting timber on land I'm sure belongs to your father, regardless of the strip in dispute. I'm going to wire him to come up here. This thing ought to be stopped."
"Oh dear! More trouble!" sighed Grace. "Well, do as you think best, Mr. Franklin. I think you'll find papa home. Oh, I wish this was all settled. I wonder why there are such people as the Jallows, anyhow?"
"Probably for the same reason that there are mosquitoes," said Betty. "It's so we will appreciate nice people all the more. But don't worry, Grace."
"Are you girls going out in that boat?" asked Mr. Franklin as he started back toward his cabin.
"Yes. Why shouldn't we?" inquired Mollie, for she saw a look of concern on his face.
"Well, you'll be all right if you stay around here, but the ice is breaking up below and above you, on account of the thaw. It won't be safeto go too far, or you'll meet open water. Be on the lookout."
"We will," promised Betty. "We're only just going out for a practice spin by ourselves. It will surprise the boys."
She did not realize what a surprise she and her chums were to get before long.
After one or two ineffectual attempts the girls got the motor running. Then, looking to see that all was clear, Betty, who was at the helm, gave the word for Mollie to lower the toothed wheel, which engaging on the ice, would move the craft.
At first there was only a shower of soft and rather watery ice. The surface was too "mushy" to enable the teeth to "bite."
"Harder! Push down harder!" directed Betty.
Mollie did so, and then, after hesitating a second as if uncertain whether or not to go, theSpidermoved off, gradually acquiring speed.
"Oh, this is glorious!" cried Grace as she sat well forward and breathed in deep of the fresh air. "Betty—Mollie—you are wonderful!"
"Oh, it's easy to run," said Mollie, calmly. "I understand it now. Really, it's very simple."
The girls took turns steering, for the boat was not going very fast, on account of the conditionof the ice. Once or twice there were booming noises, like the sound of distant cannon.
"What are those?" asked Amy, with a start.
"The ice cracking," explained Betty. "It isn't anything. It often happens on a big surface, and we're on a wide part of the river now."
They went on for a mile or so, until Mollie suddenly clutched the arm of Betty, and cried:
"Look—there's open water ahead!"
"That's right," agreed Betty, as she quickly shifted the helm. "We don't want to plunge into that," for the water looked black and treacherous in contrast with the white ice about it.
They headed for their camp. The sound of the cracking ice became oftener, and more than once Betty looked a bit apprehensively at Mollie. But they tried to conceal their growing uneasiness from Grace and Amy.
Suddenly there came a sharp report, louder than any that had gone before, and, involuntarily, Mollie raised the spiked wheel. The ice boat slowly lost headway.
"Don't stop! Don't stop!" cried Betty. "Keep on!"
"But it may be dangerous!"
"It will be more dangerous to stand still! Don't you know that a moving body has a betterchance over thin ice than one standing still? Keep going, Mollie, and head for shore!"
"Oh, I'm sure something is going to happen!" cried Amy.
"Nonsense, be quiet!" urged Betty. "Grace, give her a chocolate! Mollie, lower that wheel again."
Again the "propeller" engaged the ice, and theSpiderforged ahead. Grace looked back, and saw where a big crack had appeared. It was constantly widening.
Then came a thunderous report. The girls screamed, and Betty almost let go of the tiller. Then she grasped it more tightly, for she saw, with a shudder of fear, that black water was now all around them.
"Stop! Stop!" cried Betty to Mollie. "Stop the boat! We're on a big cake of ice and we're floating away! Stop it!"
In an instant Mollie had lifted the wheel, and in the next she had shut of the motor. TheSpiderwith the girl passengers was indeed marooned on an immense cake of ice, while all about were other cakes, grinding and smashing over one another. The river was breaking up fast.
"Oh—oh!" gasped Grace, when she saw the dark and seething water all around them. "Oh, we're—afloat!"
"And it's a good thing, too!" exclaimed Betty quickly, as she squared the rudder-runner. "If we weren't afloat we'd be sinking, and I don't want to do that—it's too cold!"
Thus spoke the practical Little Captain, for she realized that now was the time to gain control over the nerves of her chums. Once they became hysterical there would be no managing them. And, as she spoke she glanced sharply at Mollie, who had opened her mouth to say something, but had thought better of it.
"But we're on a cake of—ice!" cried Amy.
"And, as the old wolf said to Little Red Riding Hood, so much the better to keep afloat with, my dear!" went on Betty gaily, a condition which she was far from feeling.
"WE ARE ON A CAKE OF ICE, AND WE ARE FLOATING AWAY!""WE ARE ON A CAKE OF ICE, AND WE ARE FLOATING AWAY!"
The Outdoor Girls in a Winter Camp.Page 160.
"Yes, it's a nice big cake, too!" declared Mollie, recognizing that Betty would need help—"backing-up"—in her efforts to calm the two more timid girls. "It's a lovely large cake," Mollie added. "The largest around of any. Just suppose we were on—that?" and she pointed to one about as large as a "five cent piece the ice man brings in on a hot day," to quote Betty's later characterization.
"Oh, how can you make fun, when we may—when we may—may slip off any minute?" protested Grace, half tearfully. "Oh, why did we come out in this ice boat?"
"Now look here!" and Betty spoke sharply. "Isn't it a good deal better to be jolly than glum? Of course it is. And we're in no immediate danger. As Mollie says, we may be thankful we are not on a small cake of ice. This will hold us nicely."
"But we're floating down the stream," said Amy.
"Of course we are," agreed Betty cheerfully. "A river never stands still, you know. We are floating down with the rest of the cakes. Pretty soon there will be an ice jam, and——"
"Oh, don't say that!" begged Grace. "An ice jam! That's one of those terrible things where so many persons are killed."
"Nonsense! You're thinking of an avalanche!" declared Mollie. "Betty means that the cakes of ice will all jam together pretty soon, when the river narrows, and we can walk ashore as nicely as you please, hauling the ice boat after us."
"Why can't we go ashore in that?" asked Amy, her face brightening.
"Because it will be so—humpy!" explained Betty. "We could not run the auto ice boat over the bumps. But really it might be worse; I'm not fooling."
Their situation was indeed peculiarly fortunate considering what had happened. The warm weather had softened the ice, and the melting of much snow had caused the river to rise. This had had the effect of cracking the covering of ice, and it had broken up. The ice boat got on a certain large section that split off and wentfloatingdown stream.
"Well, let's get out and see what we can do," proposed Mollie, as she left her place near the motor.
"Don't you dare leave this boat!" commanded Betty, a bit sternly.
"Why not?" asked Mollie, curiously.
"I'll tell you why. Though the cake we are on seems solid, there may be cracks in it, and it might separate if we stepped out on it. Yousee our weight would come in a comparatively small space, whereas in the boat it is distributed over a large surface."
"My? Where did you learn that?" asked Mollie, admiringly.
"In our physics class. It's true, too. We must stay here."
"How, long?" queried Grace. "It will soon be late, and——"
"You have some chocolates; haven't you?" demanded Betty, quickly.
"Yes, but——"
"Then save them. We may be here for some time, but we are bound to be taken off—sooner or later."
"And if it's later, and the cake of ice goes to pieces, no matter whether we get out on it or not, what will happen?" Amy wanted to know.
"Well, the boat contains a lot of wood, and it will float for some time—especially this cockpit part," said Betty. "Then, too, some one is sure to see us when we get down a little further. Or the boys will miss the ice boat, and, knowing that we have it out, they'll hunt for us. Especially when they see the ice breaking up."
They were slowly floating down stream—slowly because of the number of large and small cakes their own encountered. After the firstalarm the girls felt more at ease, especially Amy and Grace, for, in a large measure, they had come to depend on Betty and Mollie. And these two justified the confidence reposed in them.
Eagerly they all scanned the shore of the river, but they saw no one.
"I'd even begladto see some of the Jallows!" exclaimed Grace, after a bit. "They couldn't refuse to rescue us. Oh, I do hope papa will have no further trouble with that man! If we could only help him to straighten out the tangle!"
"We'll have to straighten out our own first," said Mollie, with a tense smile. "Do you think we are getting nearer shore, Betty?"
Betty was about to reply, when, with a sharp report, a large piece broke off their cake of ice. This left one of the runners on the forward cross-piece close to the lapping water.
"Oh dear!" cried Amy. "If this keeps up——"
"Isn't that a man over there?" suddenly cried Betty, pointing toward shore. "Yes, girls, it is. A man! Oh, shout to him! Call for help!"
The next instant there went echoing over the expanse of ice-strewn water four young voices, uniting in a call for aid.
Fortunately the wind was right, and the man heard. He had been walking along the rivershore, and now, looking up and across, he saw the girls in the ice boat in their perilous position. It needed but an instant for him to sense the situation, and he acted promptly.
He waved his hand as a sign of encouragement, and his voice came faintly to the girls, but they could not make out what he said. The man ran back up the shore a little way.
"Where's he going?" asked Amy. "Oh, he's going to leave us!"
"No, he's probably gone for help!" said Betty. "Oh, there goes another piece of our floe!"
"Help! Help! Hurry!" shouted Mollie, the others joining their voices to hers.
Presently the man was seen to be pushing something down to the river.
"It's a boat!" cried Betty. "Now we're all right!" And it did seem to be some sort of boat in which the man was coming to the rescue.
"What is he doing?"
"What a queer boat!"
"Sometimes it's in the water, and again it's on the ice!"
"No matter! He's coming to save us, and it's high time! There goes another chunk off our ice raft!"
It was Betty who gave voice to the last, and Grace, Amy and Mollie in turn, who had expressed the other sentiments. All were true in their way. The man did certainly seem to be advancing in a peculiar manner. At times he appeared to be rowing, or padding, and again he propelled himself over a big cake of ice, pushing himself along by means of short poles on either side of the boat.
And, as Mollie had said, at times he was in the water, and again gliding over the ice. What Betty had said was but too true. Now and then, with a startling report, the big floe on whichrested the auto ice boat containing the girls would be lessened by a great chunk, that would break off, and go floating away.
"Oh, hurry! Do, please, hurry!" breathed Grace, as she sat huddled close beside Amy, gazing now and then into the ice-encumbered black water that seemed momentarily to be encroaching on their margin of safety.
"We can never all get in that boat!" decided Amy, as the man alternately pushed and paddled it toward them. "It will only hold two, and he'll have to make four trips. It may be too late—for the last one!"
"He's doing all he can," said Betty. "Perhaps the boat will hold more than you think." But, even as she said this she looked askance at the peculiar craft. Clearly it was small, and at most could hold but three. There would be danger in this even. And it would necessitate two trips at best. This delay, with the constantly-decreasing size of the floe meant danger for two of them.
"Hold on, ladies, I'm coming!!" cried the man in the boat. "I'll soon have you safe ashore. Don't jump, whatever you do, or you'll be ground to pieces by the ice cakes!"
"Cheerful prospect," remarked Betty grimly.
Amy and Grace did not try to conceal the tearsin their eyes. Mollie was more like the Little Captain—brave and hopeful. Not that Grace and Amy were cowards—far from it—but they had not thebuoyantreserve strength of their chums.
"Steady now, and I'll have you!" cried the man. He had come to a halt in his boat on a big swirling cake, which was keeping pace with the progress of the one containing the ice boat. "I'm going to make a line fast to you," the man explained, "and take my end ashore. Then I can haul you in. I don't dare risk taking you off in the boat. The ice is breaking up too fast. Stand by now, to catch the line I'm going to throw."
He was kneeling in his queer craft, and the girls could now see that it was made for just such work as this. It was a small punt, capable of being rowed or paddled. And to enable it to slide over the ice two strips of iron, for runners, extended along the bottom from stem to stern, just under the lower and outer edges of the boat's sides. In other words it was a combined sled and boat. It was a type much used by muskrat-hunters who have to seek their quarry on flooded meadows that often freeze over uncertainly.
"Here you go!" shouted the man. "Makethis line fast to the forward part of your boat. How are the runners; well sunk in?"
"Yes!" answered Betty, glancing to make sure. The steel runners of the cross-piece of the craft, as well as the steering plates in the rear, had, because of the fact that the boat had been stationary so long, sunk deep into the soft ice. TheSpiderwas firmly anchored.
"The rope will hold better on your craft, than on the ice itself," the man explained after he had thrown it. "Have you made it fast?"
"Yes!" cried Mollie, who had assisted Betty in catching the line, and taking a couple of turns about a strong cleat.
"Oh, do please hurry and—and save us!" panted Grace.
"I will, miss. Don't be skeered," said their rescuer kindly. The girls could see that he was a burly lumberman, but no one they had ever met before, as far as any of them could remember.
"I'll have you ashore soon," he added. "I'll make as good time back as I can, though it's ticklish work, for the ice is going out fast. It's early for it, too, and the river will freeze up again bad. But don't worry. Your floe will hold until I get you all ashore. Just sit tight, and don't worry!"
"But we—we can't help it," half whispered Amy.
The man, having tossed the rope which Betty and Mollie secured, now arranged the coils in the bottom of his boat so that it would pay out without tangling.
"I was just passing when I saw your pickle," he told them. "Lucky I had the rope with me, and I knew old Muskrat Ike must have his punt hid along the bank somewhere. I routed it out and here I am. Now I'm off. Keep up your spirits!" he called with a smile.
With two short, iron shod and pointed poles he shoved his boat around and off the floe where he had halted. Into the water plunged the queer craft, and then the man paddled. He slid the shelving, pointed prow out on another ice cake and thus, alternately progressing, he neared the shore.
As he approached it, narrowly watched by the girls, who cast occasional glances at their own floe, Betty uttered a cry.
"There are the boys!"
Three figures could be seen hurrying down to the edge of the ice-filled river, and it needed but a glance to show that they were Will, Frank and Allen.
In another minute or two the lumberman, inhis queer boat, had reached the shore. Out he leaped, and shoving his punt to one side he began hauling on the rope that was fast to the ice-anchored auto craft, the rope forming a slender bridge to the land. Slowly the ice-floe began to approach the shore, shoving the lesser cakes aside.
But now a new danger presented itself. As long as the big floe had gone down with the current it had not been struck hard by other chunks of ice, since all were moving at the same rate of speed. Now, as the big floe was hauled cross-ways to the current, other cakes collided with it, breaking off large chunks.
"There won't be anything left when we get ashore," cried Grace. "We're going to pieces fast!"
"Don't get excited!" advised Mollie. "We'll be all right," but she watched with eager eyes the progress they were making, and the ever-decreasing size of their floe.
"The boys are going to help him!" cried Mollie. "Now we will move faster."
Will and the others, reaching the side of the lumberman, and seeing his plan, laid hold of the rope with him, and hauled with all their might. Then, indeed, the floe containing the ice boat did move toward shore more quickly. And tosuch good purpose did the rescuers haul that, in a short time, the cake grounded in shallow water, with one point so near shore that the girls could leap across the intervening water safely.
And it was only just in time, for when Betty, who insisted on being the last to leave the boat, landed, the cake split in half, and theSpiderwas partly submerged.
"What luck!" cried Will, as he clasped his sister's hand. "Whatever possessed you girls to go out on a day like this?"
"Never mind asking questions now," replied Grace half-hysterically. "We're safe! Better get your boat ashore boys."
"That's good advice," agreed Allen, and with the help of the lumberman theSpiderwas hauled ashore, not in the least damaged. The girls were beginning to recover their nerves now, though they were a trifle shaky.
"Let's get back to the cabin!" cried Grace. "Oh, I'll never goice boatingagain."
"Not when the ice is like it was to-day," commented her brother. "Franklin says he warned you."
"Oh, well, we didn't think we'd go so far," said Mollie. "We must thank that man. Where is he?"
The lumberman, having replaced the queerpunt where he had found it, was walking away, when Betty, running after him, cried:
"Oh, won't you let us know who you are? We want to thank you, and——"
"Oh that's all right," he said, with rough good-nature. "It was all in the day's work. I've done the same thing before."
"But won't—won't you tell us who you are?" asked Allen.
"It doesn't matter. I'm a stranger around here, and I don't expect to stay. I'll be getting along," and he took off his fur cap and bowed. It was so evident that he did not want to disclose this identity that the boys did not press him.
"But we can't thank you enough," said Mollie.
"The sight of your pretty faces is enough," he replied gallantly, and with just the trace of a brogue. He smiled genially, bowed again and tramped off through the snow.
"How odd!" exclaimed Grace.
"Maybe he's one of the Jallow lumbermen, and didn't want it known that he had done the Ford family a favor," suggested Will.
"Silly!" remarked his sister.
"Well, there's something queer about him anyhow," insisted Will. "Say, but you girls were in a pickle, all right."
"It was a whole jar full—with some olivesthrown in," remarked Betty. "Oh, I was so frightened!"
"You didn't show it, my dear," spoke Amy. "You were very brave!"
"Well, some one had to be. Not that you all weren't!" said Betty quickly.
"When we got back, and Franklin said you'd gone off in the boat, and we saw the ice breaking up, we were wild about you," spoke Will. "We started out to trace you, keeping on the high ground to see you quicker. But the lumberman beat us to it."
"Oh, I don't know what we should have done without him," declared Mollie.
"Well, let's get back to the cabin," voiced Will. "My feet are wet."
"And we'll all feel better for a cup of tea," added Mollie.
Behold them then, a little later, seated about a cosy fire, sipping tea, coffee or chocolate, according to their fancies, Mrs. Franklin having insisted on serving them. Soon the danger was but apoignantmemory.
Days passed. The thaw spent itself and a freeze set in. Again there was excellent skating and ice boating, though the girls were a bit timid of the latter. Then came several winter affairs—parties in country-homes to which the girlswere invited through the courtesy of Mrs. Franklin.
The girls enjoyed every one of them, and so did the boys. The winter was approaching its coldest spell. The Christmas holidays were not far off. Regarding the disputed claim, Mr. Jallow appeared to have matters in his favor. His men continued to cut the choice timber despite the protest of Mr. Ford, who was in despair at his inability to prove what he believed to be his right.
Alice Jallow and her friends remained in their winter cabin, but our friends saw little of them. Occasionally the boys met one another, but beyond rather frigid greetings little was said.
A big snow storm put an end to ice sports and the boys and girls went in for snowshoes, no one being very expert on them, however. One afternoon, when the boys had gone to town for some supplies, Betty proposed that the girls go for a little tramp. It was not cold, and the snow, with a heavy crust, was just right for the "tennis racquets," as she somewhat gaily dubbed the snowshoes.
They walked for several miles, and were about to turn back, when, unexpectedly they came in sight of a little cabin in a snow-filled glade.
"I wonder who lives there?" said Amy.
"Don't go too close. It may be another bear trap," said Betty with a laugh.
"That's no trap!" insisted Grace. "It's a regular cabin. I'm going to look in. Maybe an Indian used to live there, and we can find some relics."
The others rather reluctantly followed as Grace advanced. She peered in one of the windows, and, as she uttered a cry the others heard a distinct groan.
"What—what's that?" gasped Amy.
"Some one is in there! I saw a man lying in a bunk!" exclaimed Grace, moving away.
As the girls hesitated, looking at one another with fear-blanched faces, they heard a hollow voice calling:
"Help! Help! Get me a doctor!"
"Some one is hurt!" cried Betty. "We must see who it is, and help."
"But it—it's a man!" gasped Grace. "I saw him!"
"Well, a man can need help as well as anyone else," said Mollie, in defense of her chum Betty. "Come—I'm not afraid."
Resolutely she went to the front door. It opened at her touch, and the others, standing behind her saw a figure huddled up on a bunk built against the cabin wall.
"Oh, thank the dear Lord some one has come!" groaned a man's voice. "Will you please get a doctor or someone. My leg is broken, and I've been without help for two days!"
Then his voice trailed off weakly.
"He's fainted!" cried Betty, hurrying to his side.
Finding an injured man in a lonely cabin, practically snowed in, was not the only surprise the girls were to receive that day. The other followed quickly on the heels of the first. It was Mollie who "sprung it," as Will said afterward, and even Grace did not rebuke him for his slang.
Betty, followed by the others—rather timidly followed, it must be confessed—approached the bunk where the man lay. He had indeed fainted and his face was woefully white. Then Mollie cried out:
"Why it's that man—the one who rescued us from the ice floe. It's the kind lumberman!"
The others stared at her for a moment, and then looked at the burly form amid the rough blankets. A light broke over Betty's face.
"Itisthe same one!" she cried. "Oh, girls, here is a chance for us to repay him for what he did for us!"
"But what—what can we do?" asked Grace. "We can't fix his broken leg!"
"No, but we can get him something to eat—some hot coffee, and revive him. Then we can go for help!" exclaimed practical Betty. "Now, girls, the first thing to do is to build a fire, and heat some water. The doctor will want that when he comes. We'll make some coffee, too. Then we'll see what is next to be done."
The outdoor girls were used to doing things for themselves. They had not lived in their cabin a month, building fires, getting their own meals and doing practically all the hard work, for nothing. They knew how to proceed, now that there was need of haste.
Betty, looking among the stores in the cupboard, found a bottle of strong ammonia. This she carefully brought to the man's nostrils. His breathing became quicker, and soon he opened his eyes. Wonderingly he stared about him.
"What—what happened? Who are you—girls? Oh, I guess I must have keeled over. Mighty foolish of me. Oh, my leg!"
A spasm of pain shot over his face.
"Lie still," said Betty soothingly. "We will send for help. Here, drink this," and she held some water to his lips. He supported himself on his elbow, and drank greedily.
"First I had in a long time," he apologized huskily.
Mollie and Grace were making the fire, while Amy was washing out the pot, and putting some ground coffee in it. The stove was blazing well, and the kettle was put on to boil. The man drank some more water and seemed better.
"I slipped and fell coming home the other day," he explained. "I didn't think it was much more than a sprain at first, but the next morning I couldn't walk, and I knew my leg was broken. Then come this last big storm, and nobody passed here. I yelled for help until I was hoarse, but it did no good. I had about given up when you girls came along. I haven't been able to even crawl, the pain was so bad. I just had to keep covered up to prevent freezing."
"You'll soon be all right," said Betty soothingly. "We are making coffee."
"Yes, I can smell it. It's mighty good of you girls."
"You know who we are; don't you?" asked Mollie.
"I can't say as I do. The light ain't very good in here."
"Don't you remember the girls who were stranded in the ice boat; and how you pulled us to shore?"
"Oh, are you those girls? Well, land be!"
"Here is some coffee," said Betty, pouring out a fragrant cup. "I couldn't find any milk, though."
"I never use it. I like it black. You can sweeten it with molasses. You'll find some in that jug," and he indicated it. "Well, well, to think you're those girls!" he murmured as he sipped the hot beverage. Every moment he seemed to be stronger, though his pain in his leg made him wince every now and then.
"We must get a doctor for you—or send the boys," spoke Betty. "Won't you tell us who you are? So we will know how to tell the physician."
The man hesitated a moment, and looked sharply at the girls.
"I didn't aim to tell my name," he said slowly. "I didn't want it known that I had come back. But I can't see that there's any harm in telling you girls. You won't know my story, and I guess the doctor won't either. I'm Paddy Malone!"
Grace started. The name stirred half-forgotten memories.
"What!" she cried. "Paddy Malone, who used to work for Mr. Ford?"
It was the turn of the lumberman to start.
"Mr. Ford!" he exclaimed. "Do you know Mr. Ford?"
"I am his daughter," said Grace simply, "and he has been looking all over for you. He has had trouble about a lumber tract and he thinks you could straighten it out for him, and prove his claim. Are you really that Paddy Malone?"
"I am," said the man humbly, "and this is a judgment on me—a judgment on me! To think that James Ford's daughter should help me. Well, well! Yes, I am that Paddy Malone," he went on in louder tones, "and I can prove your father's claim. I'm through with that Jallow crowd, now. Through with 'em! Get a doctor, girls, if you can, and I'll tell everything when I'm fixed up. I'll prove James Ford's lumber claim for him, and show those swindlers that they can't fool Paddy Malone! I'll show 'em!"
He sank back on his pillow exhausted, while Betty made haste to bring more coffee.
"And to think that we found Paddy Malone!" exclaimed Mollie.
"Yes, but he first found us—only we didn't know it," answered Grace.
They were gliding along on their snowshoes from the lonely cabin where they discovered the injured lumberman. Betty and Amy had volunteered to stay while the other girls went for the nearest doctor. There was one living half-way between the winter camp and the town.
"Papa will be so glad!" Grace went on. "I must telegraph to him right away."
"One of the boys can take in the message," suggested Mollie. "Then we can go back and hear the rest of the story. It sounds, from what Paddy Malone said, as if that Mr. Jallow had been up to some unfair tricks."
"I shouldn't wonder," agreed Grace. "Oh, what a lot of things have happened up here!"
"And more are going to, if I'm any judge. Your father will get his timber land back."
"Oh, how glad I'll be!"
The girls hurried on, hoping they would find the boys in their cabin. There was some doubt of this, but they were reasonably certain of locating Mr. Franklin, who would go for a doctor for the injured man.
The boys had not yet returned, but Mrs. Franklin, who listened with wonder to the story Grace and Mollie pantingly told, informed them where they could locate her husband not far off in the woods.
He was using a light sled to haul firewood, and at once set off for the doctor, whom he brought back with him in due time.
Then, in a larger sled, in which it was planned to bring back Paddy Malone to the boy's cabin, where it would easier to nurse him, Mr. Franklin, Mollie, Grace and the physician set off for the lonely cabin.
Theyfound Paddy much improved under the ministrations of Amy and Betty. The lumberman was quite cheerful. Telling of his determination to aid Mr. Ford seemed to have taken a load off his conscience.
With the aid of Mr. Franklin, the rather badly broken leg was set, the lumberman bearing the pain like a stoic. Then, resting on a soft bed of straw in the bottom of the sled, he was takento the boys' cabin, the girls also riding in the big sled.
That the boys were much astonished, on their return from a little trip, to find a wounded lumberman in their cabin, is putting it mildly. And when they learned that it was the long missing Paddy Malone, who could give such valuable testimony for Mr. Ford, their astonishment knew no bounds.
"Say, you girls certainly do things!" exclaimed Will admiringly.
"They sure do!" agreed Allen, with a warm glance at Betty, who averted her eyes, and blushed, whereat Grace and Mollie nudged each other, to the further discomfiture of their friend.
"I'm just crazy to hear what he will say, and how he is going to establish daddy's boundary lines," said Grace, when the lumberman had been made comfortable.
"He must not be disturbed until to-morrow," ordered the doctor. "He has a little fever, and I want that to go down."
So the girls and boys had to curb their impatience as best they could. A telegram was sent to Mr. Ford, and he replied that he would be on hand the next day.
The morning visit of the doctor found Mr. Malone—or Paddy, as he insisted his youngfriends call him—so much better that the physician said:
"You may tell your story now, but don't talk too much."
"Sure, and I'll leave that for the ladies!" exclaimed Paddy with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Now everybody keep quiet and listen," said Grace, when she had related how she and her chums had come to the winter camp, and how Mr. Jallow and his company had encroached on land that Mr. Ford believed was his own.
"And itishis!" exclaimed Paddy. "The boundary lines have been changed. I can see that myself. It's that Jallow's work. Listen and I'll tell you how it happened.
"As your father says, Miss," he went on, turning to Grace, "I was with him when the survey was made, and stone piles put up and the trees blazed to mark the line. That valuable strip was on his side. Then some time passed, and that cunning fox, Jallow, came to me, and he represented that he had been wrongly dealt with. He said Mr. Ford had sold out his interests to strangers who were going to do harm to Jallow and his friends.
"Not knowing any different, I believed him. He said the courts would not give him justice and he was going to take it himself, and I had smallblame for him for doing that. I'd do the same. But mind you," Paddy insisted, "I did not know I was doing my friend James Ford any harm.
"Jallow said he would pay me just to disappear for a time, and, foolishly, I consented. I went out of the country, and for a while Jallow sent me, and a friend of mine, money. My friend knew the proper boundaries, too.
"Then the money stopped, and I came on to find out why. Jallow only laughed at me, and said he had no further use for me, as he'd got all he wanted. I didn't know what to do. I stayed around here, keeping in hiding, for I feared maybe I could be arrested for what I did. That was why I didn't give you my name," and he smiled at the girls.
"So I came to this old cabin I used to own, to see what would turn up. Sure and it was myself turned up—slipped up—and broke my leg. That was what turned up.
"But before that I had seen all I wanted to—that was the changed boundary lines. Then I knew Jallow's game. He wanted to throw that valuable timber strip into his own land. I made some inquiries, and found that Mr. Ford still owned the lumber camp, and hadn't sold out, as Jallow told me. Then I knew I had been fooled, but still I didn't know what to do, for I wasafraid of arrest, and I never could stand jail, when I knew Ihadn'treally meant any wrong.
"I saw Jallow again, but he only laughed at me, and give me a little money to get out of the country. But I didn't go then, and I'm not going now. I'm going to see justice done!"
"And I think I can assure you that you will not suffer for it," said Allen Washburn, with a glance at Will and Grace. "Mr. Ford will be here soon, and you can arrange everything with him."
"I hope he'll forgive me," remarked Paddy somewhat mournfully.
"I'm sure he will," declared Grace, warmly.
Paddy Malone went more into details of how he had been induced to disappear so that the proper boundaries might be shifted to make it appear that the valuable land was on Mr. Jallow's side, instead of belonging to Mr. Ford. Then Dr. Burke insisted that his patient have rest, so the boys and girls went outside to talk it over.
"Oh, I do wish papa would come!" sighed Grace.
In due time Mr. Ford arrived at the camp, a very much surprised but pleased lawyer indeed. He had a consultation with Paddy, who confirmed all he had said and furnished the addressof a companion who was present when the proper survey was made.
Mr. Ford then made his plans, but, as he needed the help of Paddy in carrying them out, it was decided to postpone action until the lumberman could get around—on crutches, at least.
Mr. Ford stayed a day or so in camp with his daughter and her friends, going about to look at the various boundaries, and arranging certain details with Ted Franklin. He was entertained by the young people, and seemed to enjoy himself.
He did not go near the strip in dispute, however, preferring to wait until he was ready with his plans. Paddy was slowly getting better, and Mr. Ford went back to Deepdale, to look after matters there, arranging to come back assoon asPaddy could limp around.
Meanwhile the young people made the most of their life in the great wintry woods, for they were to return home for the Christmas holidays, as school would open the first of the new year.
There were sleigh-rides, coasting, skating occasionally, and some more ice boating, though, because of considerable snow, the latter sport was rather curtailed.
Occasionally Mr. Blackford came out for a day or so, but he had no good news regardinghis missing sister. He had followed several clues unsuccessfully.
"But somehow, in spite of all my disappointments, I feel that I will be successful before long," he affirmed.
"We hope so," replied Amy, gently, and the others echoed her words.
Then came a day when Paddy could limp about. He was a happy man, and, in answer to a telegram sent him with this news, Mr. Ford returned word that he would come up and assist at the "last act in the lumber play," as Will called it.
Accompanied by a court officer, and with Allen Washburn as consulting attorney, Grace's father reached the camp one evening.
"Do you think you can stand it to face Jallow to-morrow, Paddy?" he asked.
"I'm sure I can. I'm thinkin' he won't face me, though."
"Maybe not. We'll see. Well, we'll go over and take possession of the disputed strip in the morning."
The court officer and Allen nodded.
"May we come along, Daddy, and see the fun?" asked Grace.
"Well," replied her father, "I don't know as there will be much fun, but—yes, you may be there."
Over the snow to where, according to Ted Franklin, the Jallow lumbermen had last been seen cutting the valuable timber, went Mr. Ford and his little party, including the boys and girls. There was eager anticipation in their demeanor.
"What do you suppose your father will do?" asked Mollie of Grace, as they rode along in the big sled, for, out of consideration of Paddy's leg, they rode instead of walked.
"I don't know," was the answer. "But I guess daddy has his plans all made."
"I just hope that Alice Jallow sees how we come out ahead!" went on Mollie, half-vindictively.
"Mollie!" reproached Betty, gently.
"I don't care. She—she's a—cat!"
Mr. Ford, Paddy and Allen were consulting with the court officer, Will and Frank were discussing a prospective hunting trip, and the girls were planning Christmas surprises as the sled slid on.
"Here's the new line," said Paddy, as they came to a pile of stones. "And there's where it ought to be," he added, as they drove across the valuable strip in dispute. There was a difference of nearly a mile.
"That is my recollection of it," said Mr. Ford. "Owing to the death of the surveyor, and the destruction of some of his records, I was unable to prove it, though."
"Well, you can now," retorted Paddy, significantly.
Soon they heard the sound of axes and, in answer to a nod from Mr. Ford, the horses were turned in that direction.
Suddenly from behind a tree stepped the burly form of Hank Smither.
"You can't go any further!" he growled. "Turn back an' git off this land! You're trespassin'!"
"Oh, I think not," said Mr. Ford, pleasantly.
"Well, I tell you you be! Git off, 'fore I——"
"Now I advise you to go slow, my big friend," put in the constable. "I'm from the court, and I have authority in this matter that goes above even Jallow's."
"All I know is that my orders is not to let any one on here exceptin' Mr. Jallow's men," growled Hank.
"Where is Mr. Jallow?" asked Mr. Ford.
"Over there," and Hank pointed.
"Then we'll settle with him. Drive on, Ted."
"I don't see how I kin let ye!" whined Hank. He had lost much of his bluster now.
"You don't have to let us. We'll do it without, Hank!" spoke Paddy, suddenly. At the sound of his voice—for up to now Hank had not seen the lumberman—the burly guard started slightly.
"Paddy Malone!" he gasped. "You back!"
"Yes, and I guess Jallow won't be any more glad to see me than you are," was the grim comment.
There was no further hindrance to their progress. The sound of chopping grew louder, and a little later the sled turned into a clearing, about which were strewn many big, fallen trees. Mr. Ford's eyes sparkled at the sight.
"They haven't hauled out much of my timber," he said. "We are just in time!"
A man came running from a group. He held up a warning hand.
"You'll have to get out of here!" he cried.
"Who says so?" asked Mr. Ford.
"Mr. Jallow sent me to tell you."
"Well, you tell Mr. Jallow to come here himself. We want to see him."
The man hesitated a minute and then set off on the run.
"Here comes Jallow now," observed Will.
"Oh, I hope there won't be any trouble," murmured Amy.
"Don't worry," said Mr. Blackford, who sat beside her.
"Here, what do you want?" blustered Mr. Jallow, as he came up. "Oh, it's you; is it, Ford? Well, you haven't any more right here than any one else. Get off. This is my land—the courts have awarded it to me."
"Under a misapprehension—yes. Because of false boundary lines—yes, Jim Jallow!"
"Who says the boundary lines are false?"
"I do!" cried Paddy Malone, standing up in the sled, and leaning on his crutch. "I say the lines were changed, Jim Jallow, and you know it! I saw the right marks put, but they were shifted, and I'm ready to testify that you paid me to keep out of the country while you changed 'em."
"That isn't so!" stormed Jallow. "Who would believe you?" but he paled, and was obviously ill at ease.
"I guess they'll believe me when Mr. Ford and Dick Norbury testify to the same thing," said Paddy, coolly.
"Dick Norbury—why, he's—dead!" gasped Jallow.
"Not much!" cried Paddy. "He's very much alive, and I've got a letter from him in my pocket now, saying he'll come on any time he's wanted and testify as to the right boundaries."
Mr. Jallow stood with open mouth. As the saying goes, all the wind had been taken out of his sails.
"I guess you had better give up, Mr. Jallow," said the court officer. "I'm here to take charge of this land until the matter is officially settled. In the meanwhile no more trees must be cut. That is a court order, and here is a copy of it. I serve it on you, and violation of it means contempt, with heavy penalties."
"The jig is up, Jim!" cried Paddy. "I told you I'd get even with you!"
Mr. Jallow said not another word. He was beaten at every point, and he knew it. His men crowded up around him.
"Shall we go on cutting?" asked the foreman.
Mr. Jallow hesitated a moment.
"No," he said, in a low voice. "Better stop—I guess."
"I may want you men to work for me," put in Mr. Ford. "I intend to go on cutting this tract, as soon as the court formalities are over.If you like you may remain in camp until it is time to go to work again. I'll hire you."
A cheer greeted this announcement. The men had looked rather blank at losing their work in themiddleof winter.
"Well, it's all over," said Grace, as the sled turned homeward. "And it wasn't so terrible; was it, Amy?"
"No, indeed. Oh, I'm so glad your father has won, dear."
"I guess we all are," spoke Betty. "Now we can enjoy the rest of our stay in camp without having to worry, and we can go where we please. Can you stay, Mr. Blackford?"
"Yes, for a few days more."
The court formalities did not take long, and soon the title of Mr. Ford to the disputed land was confirmed. The change in boundary lines was shown, and, had he so desired, Mr. Ford could have proceeded against Mr. Jallow. But he preferred not to, since he had not really lost any of the valuable timber.
"Besides, there is no use making Alice feel any worse than she does," said Grace. The Jallow camp had been broken up, since it was on Mr. Ford's land, and Alice, her mother and guests had gone back to Deepdale. Our friends held undisputed sway in the woods.
Christmas was approaching. There was but about a week more in the woods, when, one fine warm day—that is, warm for that time of year—the party of young people set off for a tramp in the forest.
By twos and threes they strolled on, until finally Amy and Mr. Blackford found themselves in rather a lonely part of the woods, separated from the others.
"I guess we had better be getting back," he observed with a smile. "They may be anxious about us."
"Yes," agreed Amy. "But it is so wonderful here—in the winter woods. I feel I could stay—forever!"
They walked along a narrow path. There was a movement in the trees over their heads.
"What is that?" asked Amy, suddenly.
"A bird, I guess. Did you think it was a bear?"
Amy did not answer at once. Then she screamed as the grayish body of some animal with curiously tufted ears, sprang from an overhanging branch straight at her.
Mr. Blackford, who was carrying a heavy cudgel, turned quickly at the sound of Amy's voice, and pulled her to one side. He was not altogether successful, for the keen claws of thelynx grazed Amy's shoulder, tearing through her coat and dress, ripping off the sleeves and leaving her arm exposed to the shoulder, a slight scratch, through even the thicknesses of cloth, bringing blood.
With a snarl the beast turned as though to repeat the attack, but Mr. Blackford brought down the cudgel on its head with such force that the brute turned with a shrill cry of pain and fled.
Then the young man, who had caught the almost fainting girl in his other arm, turned his attention to her.
"Amy—Amy!" he cried. "Are you hurt? Speak and tell me!"
Slowly she opened her eyes. The blood came back into her cheeks, that paled again at the sight of the crimson mark on her arm.
"It is only a scratch—not deep," said Mr. Blackford, reassuringly. "The brute leaped to one side. It must have been desperate to spring on you that way."
"What was it?" asked Amy, weakly.
"A lynx—a fierce sort of beast. Wait, I will bind up your arm," and he drew out his handkerchief.
As he was winding the linen about the cut he started. A queer look came over his face. Hestared at a mark—a strange red mark—on her shoulder.
"That—that!" stammered Mr. Blackford. "How did you come by that mark, Amy?"
He stood holding her arm—her arm whence the sleeves had been ripped, and the young man was gazing with fascinated eyes at a peculiar star-shaped mark in deep red imprinted on the white flesh. In red it matched the ruddy hue of the blood drawn by the lynx.
"Tell me," he said, hoarsely, "how did that mark come there?"
"It is a birth mark," said Amy, slowly. "It has always been there. But why—why do you question me so? Why do you look at me so strangely?"
"Because, Amy, there may be something providential in this. Because you—you may be my—sister!"
"Your sister!" She started as though to pull away from him, but he held her arm, continuing to gaze at the red mark.
"Yes," he answered. "Wait. I must make sure this time. I have a drawing of it. Let me compare it, please. You are not cold?"
"No." Amy was pale, but her heart was pumping blood through her veins at such a rapid rate that it seemed as if she would never be coldagain. The flow of blood from the scratches made by the beast had somewhat lessened.
From his pocket Mr. Blackford drew a paper. Amy could see that it contained a drawing—an outline in red ink. The young man compared this with the mark on her shoulder—a mark at which she had often wondered herself.
"It is the same—the very same," he murmured. "The same shape, the same size, and in the same place. There can be no doubt of it, I think. Amy, you must be—my sister!"
"But—but," she stammered, "you said your sister had a 'V' shaped mark on her arm, just above the elbow. Now you——"
"I know I said that, but it was a mistake. Or, rather, that was not the real identifying mark. The people on whom I relied did not send me all the information they had.
"My missing sister did have a mark on her arm—a mark shaped like a 'V,' but it is not a birth mark. It was caused by the sharp point of a hot flatiron when she was a child. But the main identifying mark is this red one on the shoulder. You have it! Everything tallies with the new information I have."
"But you never said anything to us about this," spoke Amy, wonderingly.
"I know it. I thought I had inflicted enoughof my family troubles on you girls. I kept quiet about this. I determined to say nothing. But now, when I saw this mark on you, I was sure. There can be no mistake. Oh, Amy!" and his eyes filled with tears of joy.
"I—I hope there is no mistake," she faltered. "I—perhaps it will be well to say nothing to the others about it—just yet."
"Perhaps. I will have further inquiries made, and then I will let you know. Poor Amy! Does it pain you very much?" and he touched her arm gently.
"No, hardly any, now."
"I will bind it up, and we will go back. Oh, Amy, I hope—I pray that it may turn out you are my sister. I—I want you so much."
"And I hope so, too," she said.
The scratched arm was bandaged, and the torn sleeves adjusted as well as could be. Then the two, upon whom Fate had payed such a strange trick, walked back.
"I had some hopes, when you first mentioned a birth mark," said Amy, "that mine might prove to be the one you were looking for, but when you spoke of one near the elbow I knew it could not be. This scar, which does somewhat resemble a 'V,' was not a birth mark, though."
"No, and that threw us all off. But I didnot then know of the mistake having been made. I only learned differently the other day, but I kept silent about it. There had been disappointments enough. But when I saw that mark on your shoulder, it came to me in a rush. Amy, you must be my sister!"
"I—I hope I am!"
"But we will wait and make sure."
To this she agreed. Of course they showed their excitement when they joined the others—a double excitement—but the story of the lynx was excuse enough for that, and no embarrassing questions were asked. Amy was hurried back to the cabin to have her arm dressed properly.