The Outdoor Girls of Deepdale - Laura Lee Hope
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE
OR
CAMPING AND TRAMPING FOR FUN AND HEALTH
BY LAURA LEE HOPE
1913
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I A FLUTTERING PAPER
II THE TRAMPING CLUB
III JEALOUSIES
IV A TAUNT
V AMY'S MYSTERY
VI THE LEAKY BOAT
VII TO THE RESCUE
VIII CLOSING DAYS
IX OFF ON THE TOUR
X ON THE WRONG ROAD
XI THE BARKING DOG
XII AT AUNT SALLIE'S
XIII THE MISSING LUNCH
XIV THE BROKEN RAIL
XV "IT'S A BEAR!"
XVI THE DESERTED HOUSE
XVII IN CHARGE
XVIII RELIEVED
XIX A LITTLE LOST GIRL
XX THE BOY PEDDLER
XXI THE LETTER
XXII A PERILOUS LEAP
XXIII THE MAN'S STORY
XXIV BY TELEGRAPH
XXV BACK HOME
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE
CHAPTER I
A FLUTTERING PAPER
Four girls were walking down an elm-shaded street. Four girls, walking
two by two, their arms waist-encircling, their voices mingling in rapid
talk, punctuated with rippling laughter--and, now and then, as their
happy spirits fairly bubbled and overflowed, breaking into a few waltz
steps to the melody of a dreamy song hummed by one of their number. The
sun, shining through the trees, cast patches of golden light on the stone
sidewalk, and, as the girls passed from sunshine to shadow, they made a
bright, and sometimes a dimmer, picture on the street, whereon were other
groups of maidens. For school was out.
"Betty Nelson, the idea is perfectly splendid!" exclaimed the tallest of
the quartette; a stately, fair girl with wonderful braids of hair on
which the sunshine seemed to like to linger.
"And it will be such a relief from the ordinary way of doing things,"
added the companion of the one who thus paid a compliment to her chum
just in advance of her. "I detest monotony!"
"If only too many things don't happen to us!" This somewhat timid
observation came from the quietest of the four--she who was walking with
the one addressed as Betty.
"Why, Amy Stonington!" cried the girl who had first spoken, as she tossed
her head to get a rebellious lock of hair out of her dark eyes. "The very
idea! We _want_ things to happen; don't we, Betty?" and she caught the
arm of one who seemed to be the leader, and whirled her about to look
into her face. "Answer me!" she commanded. "Don't we?"
Betty smiled slightly, revealing her white, even teeth. Then she said
laughingly, and the laugh seemed to illuminate her countenance:
"I guess Grace meant certain kinds of happenings; didn't you, Grace?"
"Of course," and the rather willowy creature, whose style of dress
artistically accentuated her figure, caught a pencil that was slipping
from a book, and thrust it into the mass of light hair that was like a
crown to her beauty.
"Oh, that's all right, then," and Amy, who had interposed the
objection, looked relieved. She was a rather quiet girl, of the
character called "sweet" by her intimates; and truly she had the
disposition that merited the word.
"When can we start?" asked Grace Ford. Then, before an answer could be
given, she added: "Don't let's go so fast. We aren't out to make a
walking record to-day. Let's stop here in the shade a moment."
The four came to a halt beneath a great horsechestnut tree, that gave
welcome relief from the sun, which, though it was only May, still had
much of the advance hint of summer in it. There was a carriage block near
the curb, and Grace "draped herself artistically about it," as Mollie
Billette expressed it.
"If you're tired now, what will you be if we walk five or six miles a
day?" asked Betty with a smile. "Or even more, perhaps."
"Oh, I can if I have to--but I don't have to now. Come, Betty, tell us
when we are to start."
"Why, we can't decide now. Are you so anxious all of a sudden?" and Betty
pulled down and straightened the blue middy blouse that had been rumpled
by her energetic chums.
"Of course. I detest waiting--for trains or anything else. I'm just dying
to go, and I've got the cutest little traveling case. It--"
"Has a special compartment for chocolates; hasn't it, Grace?" asked
Mollie Billette, whose dark and flashing eyes, and black hair, with just
a shade of steely-blue in it, betrayed the French blood in her veins.
"Oh, Grace couldn't get along without candy!" declared Betty, with a
smile.
"Now that's mean!" exclaimed Grace, whose tall and slender figure, and
face of peculiar, winsome beauty had gained her the not overdrawn
characterization of "Gibson girl." "I don't see why Billy wants to always
be saying such horrid things about me!"
"I didn't say anything mean!" snapped Mollie, whose pseudonym was more
often "Billy" than anything else. "And I don't want you to say that I
do!" Her eyes flashed, and gave a hint of the hidden fire of temper which
was not always controlled. The other girls looked at her a bit
apprehensively.
"If you don't like the things I say," she went on, "there are those who
do. And what's more--"
"Billy," spoke Betty, softly. "I'm sure Grace didn't mean--"
"Oh, I know it!" exclaimed Mollie, contritely. "It was horrid of me to
flare up that way. But sometimes I can't seem to help it. I beg your
pardon, Grace. Eat as many chocolates as you like. I'll help you. Isn't
that generous?"
She clasped her arms about the "Gibson-girl," and held her cheek close to
the other's blushing one.
"Don't mind me!" she cried, impulsively. Mollie was often this way--in a
little whirlwind of temper one moment, and sweetly sorry for it the
next, albeit her little spasms of rage were never serious, and seldom
lasted long.
"Forgiven," murmured Grace. "But I am really anxious to know when we can
start our Camping and Tramping Club. I think the idea is perfectly
splendid! How did you come to think of it, Betty?"
"I got the idea from a book--it isn't original by any means. But then
I always have been fond of walking--out in the country especially.
Only it isn't so much fun going alone. So it occurred to me that you
girls would like to join. We can take a nice long tramp the first
opportunity we get."
"Just us four?" asked Grace.
"No, not necessarily. We can have as many members as we like."
"I think four is a nice number," spoke Amy. She was rather shy, and not
given to making new friends.
"We four--no more!" declaimed Mollie. "Suppose we do limit it to
four, Betty?"
"Well, we can talk of that later. And I do so want to talk of it. I
thought we'd never get out of school," and the four who had just been
released from the Deepdale High School continued their stroll down the
main street of the town, talking over the new plan that had been proposed
that morning by Betty Nelson--the "Little Captain," as she was often
called by her chums, for she always assumed the leadership in their fun
and frolics.
"Will we just walk--walk all the while?" asked Grace. "I'm afraid I
shan't be able to keep up to you girls in that case," and she swung about
on the sidewalk in a few steps of a mazy waltz with Amy.
"Of course we won't walk all the while," explained Betty. "I haven't all
the details arranged yet, but we can set a certain number of miles to
cover each day. At night we'll stop somewhere and rest."
"That's good," sighed Grace, with a glance at her small and daintily
shod feet.
"Oh, here comes your brother Will!" Betty called to her.
"And that horrid Percy Falconer is with him," went on Mollie. "I--I can't
bear him!"
"He's seen Betty--that's why he's hurrying so," spoke Grace. "Probably
he's bought a new cane he wants to show her."
"Stop it!" commanded Betty, with a blush. "You know I can't bear him any
more than you girls can."
"You can't make Percy believe that--my word!" and Mollie imitated the
mannerism perfectly. For young Falconer, be it known, was partial to good
clothes of a rather flashy type, and much given to showing them off. He
had very little good sense--in fact, what little he had, some of his
enemies used to say, he displayed when he showed a preference for pretty
Betty Nelson. But she would have none of his company.
"I don't see why Will wants to bring him along," remarked his sister
Grace, in a petulant tone. "He knows we don't like him."
"Perhaps Will couldn't help it," suggested Amy.
"That's nice of you to say, Amy," commented Grace. "I'll tell Will--some
time when I get a chance."
"Don't you dare! If you do I'll never speak to you again!" and the pink
surged to a deeper red in Amy's cheeks.
"Betty'd much rather have Will pick up Allen Washburn," remarked Mollie,
in decisive tones. "Wouldn't you, Bet?"
"Oh, please don't say such things!" besought Betty. "I don't see why you
always--"
"Hush, they'll hear you," cautioned Grace. "Let's pretend we don't see
them. Hurry up! I've got a quarter, and I'll treat you to sodas. Come on
in Pierson's drug store."
"Too late!" moaned Billy, in mock-tragic tones. "They are waving to
us--we can't be too rude."
Will Ford, the brother of Grace, accompanied by a rather overdressed
youth slightly older, had now come up to the group of girls.
"Good afternoon!" greeted Percy Falconer, raising his hat with an
elaborate gesture. "Charming weather we're having--my word!" Percy rather
inclined to English mannerisms--or what he thought were such.
"Hello, Sis--and the rest of you!" said Will, with a more hearty, and
certainly a more natural, air. "What's doing?"
"Grace was going to treat," said Amy slowly; "she is so good about
that--only--"
"Oh, girls! This is on me!" exclaimed Percy. "I shall be delighted. May I
have the honor?" and again he took off his hat with an elaborate bow.
"Shall we?" Betty telegraphed this question to her friends with her
eyes.
"Take the goods the gods provide," murmured Grace. "I can save my quarter
for another time."
With a rather resigned air Betty followed her chums into the drug store
and presently all were lined up before the marble-topped counter.
"The soda's delicious to-day," murmured Grace. "I've a good notion to get
some fudge," and she began toying with a little silver purse.
"Save your money for our club," advised Mollie. "Did you hear of our
expedition?" she asked Will.
"No, what's that? Are you going to try for the East or West pole?--seeing
that the North and South ones have been captured," and he laughed,
thereby getting some of the soda down his "wrong throat."
"Serves you right," murmured his sister, as he coughed.
"Betty is going to form a Camping and Tramping Club," went on Amy.
"Fine!" exclaimed Percy. "Are you going to take gentlemen? If so,
consider my application."
"Oh, we really mean to _walk_!" exclaimed Grace, with a glance at
the too-small patent leather shoes the overdressed youth thrust
out ostentatiously. If he understood the allusion he gave no sign
of so doing.
"What's the game, Sis?" asked Will, quizzically.
"Why, it isn't anything very elaborate," explained Betty, as she finished
her soda. "It occurred to me that, as school closes exceptionally early
this year, some of us girls could go for a two weeks' tramping tour
before our regular summer vacation."
"And we're all in love with the idea," declared Amy.
"Twenty miles a day is our limit," added Mollie, smiling behind the
youth's back.
"Twenty miles!" faltered Percy. "You never can do it--never!"
"Oh, yes, we can," said Betty, assuredly.
"Now do you still wish to join?" asked Grace, pointedly, glancing at
Percy.
"You never can do twenty miles!" affirmed Percy. "Let's have some more
soda!" he added quickly, to change the subject.
To the credit of Grace Ford, who was really very fond of sweets, be it
said that she refused, and that with the mocking eyes of all the girls
fastened on her.
"I've had enough," spoke Betty. "You walk with me," she whispered to
Amy. "I don't want Percy to bore me. Stay near me, do!"
"I will," promised Amy.
Balked of his design to stroll beside Betty, Percy was forced to be
content with Mollie, and she, with malice aforethought, talked at him in
a way he could not understand, but which, the other girls overhearing,
sent them into silent spasms of laughter.
"Don't you find it troublesome to carry a cane all the while?" Mollie
asked him, sweetly ignorant.
"Oh, I don't _have_ to carry it," he said quickly.
"Don't you? I thought on account of not being able to walk--"
"Why, Mollie--I can walk all right."
"Oh, I misunderstood you. You said twenty miles was too much."
"I meant for girls."
"Oh, then you carry the cane for dogs."
"No, indeed. I'm not afraid of dogs."
"He doesn't know she's 'spoofing' him--I believe that is the proper
English word; isn't it?" whispered Grace, who was with her brother.
"Correct, Sis."
"Whatever did you want to bring him along for?"
"Couldn't help it. He fastened to me when I came out of school, and I
couldn't shake him off. Is Bet mad?"
"You know she doesn't like him."
"Well, tell her it wasn't my fault, when you get the chance; will you? I
don't want to get on her bad books."
"I'll tell her."
"I say, Sis, lend me a quarter; won't you? I'm broke."
"You had the same allowance that I did."
"I know, but I need just that much to get a catching glove. Go
on--be a sport."
"I--"
"Don't say you haven't got it. Weren't you going to treat the crowd when
I brought Percy along and let you sting him?"
"Such horrid slang!"
"Go on, be a sport! Lend me the quarter!"
Grace produced it from her purse. There were several other coins in it.
"Say, you're loaded with wealth! Where'd you get it?"
"I just didn't spend it."
"Go on! And you with a two-pound box of chocolates--or what's left of
'em--under your bed!"
"Will Ford, did you dare go snooping in my room?" and she grasped his
arm, apprehensively.
"I couldn't help seeing 'em. I was looking for my ball, that rolled
in there."
"Did you--did you eat them all?" she faltered.
"Only a few. There's Allen Washburn, I want to speak to him," and Will
ran off uncermoniously, to join a tall, good-looking young man who was on
the other side of the street. The latter, seeing the girls, raised his
hat, but his glance rested longest on Betty, who, it might have been
observed, blushed slightly under the scrutiny.
"Allen always has a book with him," murmured Amy.
"Yes, he's studying law, you know," spoke Betty.
Some other girls joined the four then, and Percy, seeing that he was
rather ignored, had the sense to leave, making an elaborate departure,
after what he considered the correct English style.
"Thank goodness!" murmured Mollie. "Puppies are all right, but I like
better-trained ones!" and her dark eyes flashed.
"Billy!" exclaimed Grace, reproachfully, shaking an accusing finger at
her friend.
"Well, you don't like him any more than--than Betty does!"
"Hush!" warned the Little Captain. "He'll hear you."
"I don't care if he does," was the retort.
Gradually the main part of the town had been left as the girls walked
slowly on. Houses were fewer now, and the trees not so large, nor well
cared for. The sun seemed to increase in warmth as it approached the
west, wherein was a bank of fluffy clouds that soon would be turned into
masses of golden, purple and olive.
"Oh, girls, I simply must rest again!" exclaimed Grace, as, with a wry
face, she made for a smooth stump, which was all that was left of a
great oak that had recently been cut down, as it had died, and was in
danger of falling.
"What! Again?" cried Mollie. "Say, Grace, my dear, you never will be able
to keep up with us on the tramp, if you give out so easily now. What is
the matter?"
"Matter? Look at her shoes!" cried Amy. "Such heels!"
"They're not so awful high!" and Grace sought to defend her footwear from
the three pairs of accusing eyes.
"It's a very pretty boot," remarked Betty. "But hardly practical, my
dear."
"I suppose not," sighed Grace. "But I just simply could not resist the
temptation to take them when the sales-girl tried them on me. I saw them
in Robertson's window, and they were such a bargain--a sample shoe she
said--that's why they're so narrow."
"You can wear a narrow size," spoke Mollie with a sigh. "I wish I could."
"Oh, I think your shoes are a lovely shape," spoke Grace. "I wish I had
your high instep."
"Move over," begged Amy. "There's room for two on that stump, Grace."
Grace obligingly moved, and her friend sat beside her, idly swinging a
couple of books by a long strap. Betty and Mollie supported themselves by
draping their arms about each other's waists.
"'Patience on a monument,'" quoted Betty, looking at the two on
the stump.
"Which one?" asked Mollie with a laugh.
"We'll divide the virtues between us; won't we, Amy?" exclaimed Grace,
putting her head on the other's shoulder. "Now I'm--"
"The sleeping beauty!" supplied Betty, "Do come on!" and after a little
argument, in which Grace insisted that she had not had more than a
minute's respite, the four started off again. They were approaching the
outskirts of the town in the vicinity of which they all lived.
"If this weather keeps up we can't start off on our tramping and camping
trip any too soon," remarked Grace.
"When can we arrange for it?" asked Amy. "I think it is the nicest idea I
ever heard of."
"You can all come over to my house to-night," suggested Betty. "We can
make some plans then, perhaps."
"Let's, then!" cried impulsive Mollie. "But do you really intend to do
any camping, Betty?"
"Yes, if we can. Of course not for any length of time--say a night or
two. There are one or two places where camps are open the year
around, and all you have to do is to go there and board, just as you
would at a hotel."
"Only it must be much nicer," said Amy.
"It is--lots."
They had reached a place where the highway ran under a railroad line,
that crossed on a high bridge. As the girls came under the structure a
fluttering bit of paper on the ground caught the eyes of Betty. Rather
idly she picked it up, and the next moment she uttered a cry that brought
her chums to her side in some alarm.
"Look!" she exclaimed. "A five hundred dollar bill is pinned to this
paper! A five hundred dollar bill, girls!"
CHAPTER II
THE TRAMPING CLUB
With staring eyes, and with breaths that were labored, the three chums
gathered about Betty. She held the bill, and the paper pinned to it,
stretched tightly between her slim fingers.
"Is it--is it real?" gasped Grace.
"Of course it's real," declared Amy.
"How do you know?" asked Mollie. "I confess I never saw a five hundred
dollar bill all at once before."
"Did you see it in pieces?" asked Grace. "What a lot of money!"
"How many pounds of chocolates would it buy?" asked Amy, with a laugh.
"Don't you dare say chocolate to me!" commanded Grace.
"It is real," went on Betty, who had not spoken since picking up the
money. "There's no doubt of that."
"If findings were keepings you'd be well off," said Mollie. "How lucky
you are!" and sighed.
"Of course I can't keep it," decided Betty. "But I wonder who could
have dropped it?" and she looked up at the railroad bridge over their
heads, as if she might see some one standing there waiting for the
return of the bill.
"What is that paper pinned to it?" asked Grace, as she took hold of it
while Betty held the bank note by the two ends.
"That's so--I forgot to look at that," said the finder. She turned it
over. There was some writing on it. It said:
"_ This is my last five hundred dollar bill--all that is left of my
fortune. This is to remind me that if I don't make good use of this I
don't deserve any more luck. It is make or break with me now! Which
will it be?_"
The girls were silent for a moment or two after reading this strange
message that had come to them in such a queer manner. Then Betty said:
"Girls, what do you make of it?"
"It's a joke!" declared Grace.
"It sounds far from being a joke," spoke Betty, seriously. "Girls, there
may be a grim tragedy here."
"How romantic!" sighed Mollie. "What shall we do with the money?"
"We must take it home and consult our folks about it," decided Betty.
"I'll ask papa--and you might refer the question to yours, Amy. Being a
broker, he's quite likely to know about such things, and can tell us
what to do. This is quite a lot of money to lose, I wonder how we can
find the owner?"
"Advertise?"
"Maybe there'll be a notice in the post office."
"It can't have been here very long. Perhaps we'll meet whoever it belongs
to, coming back to look for it," spoke Grace.
Thus came some opinions, and while various others were rapidly formed and
expressed, and as the girls are speculating on how the bill, and the
attached paper, came to lie so openly on the highway, I hope I may be
permitted to insert here a little descriptive matter that will, perhaps,
give the reader a clearer understanding of the characters of this story.
And as Betty Nelson had, by right of more than one informal conquest,
reached the position of leader, I can do no better than begin with her.
Betty was about sixteen years old. She was not exactly what one would
call "pretty"--that is, at first glance. More likely she would have been
spoken of as "good-looking." At least by the boys. And certainly Betty
was good to look upon. Her face showed her character. There was a calm
thoughtfulness about it that suggested strength of mind, and yet it was
not the type of face called "strong." It was purely girlish, and it
reflected her bright and vivacious manner perfectly. How her features
lighted up when she spoke--or listened--her friends well knew. Her eyes
seemed always to be dancing with fun, yet they could look calmly at
trouble, too.
And when Betty Nelson looked at trouble that same trouble seemed to melt
away--to flee as though it had no right to exist. And this not only as
regarded her own troubles, but those of her friends as well. Intensely
practical was Betty, yet there was a shade of romance in her character
that few suspected. Perhaps the other girls had so often taken their
little troubles to Betty, listening to her advice and sympathy, that they
forgot she might have some of her own. But, under it all, Betty had a
romantic nature, that needed but a certain influence to bring it out.
Full of life and vigor she was always ready to assume the leadership in
whatever of fun or work was at hand. Perhaps that is why she was often
called "The Little Captain," and certainly she deserved the name. Her
father, Charles Nelson, was a wealthy carpet manufacturer, his factory
being just outside of Deepdale, and her mother, Rose, was one of the
society leaders of the town, though there was no elaborate social system.
A regular "Gibson girl," was Grace Ford, not only in form but in face.
There was that well-rounded chin, and the neck on which was poised a
head with a wonderful wealth of light hair. The other girls rather
envied Grace her hair--especially Mollie, who was a decided brunette.
And, as I have said, Grace dressed to advantage. There had been a time
when she bemoaned the fact that she was tall--"regular bean-pole" her
brother had taunted her with being--and Grace--well, she had slapped
him. But this was some years ago. But now, with the newer styles that
seem to forbid the existence of hips, and with skirts that so
circumscribe the steps that fast walking is impossible, Grace fitted in
perfectly. She was artistically tall and slender, which fact none knew
better than she herself.
But Grace was not vain. She did pose at times, but it was done naturally
and without undue thought. She just could not help it.
Her brother Will made no end of fun about her--even at this date, but
Grace had sufficient composure to ignore him now, and only smiled
sweetly, remarking:
"You only show how little you know, Billie-boy. Run along now and
play ball!"
Then Will, trying to think of some cutting thing to say, would hasten to
join his bosom friend Frank Haley, perhaps remarking as they tramped off:
"Hanged if I can understand girls anyhow."
"Why, what's up?"
"Oh, Grace is such a primper. She's got a new dress and some sort of
fancy dingus on it doesn't mix in right. She says it makes her look too
stout, and she's going to have it changed."
"Hum! I think your sister is a mighty stunning-looking girl."
"I'll tell her you said so."
"If you do I'll rub your nose in the mud!" and then, as they thought,
philosophising further on the queerness of girls in general, the boys
departed to the ball field.
The father of Grace and Will Ford was a lawyer with more than a local
reputation. He was often called on to handle big cases of state-wide
interest, and had made a modest fortune in the practice of his
profession.
Of Mollie Billette--"Billy" to her chums, I hardly know what to say.
Aged fifteen, the daughter of a well-to-do widow, Mrs. Pauline Billette,
Mollie seemed older than either Betty or Grace, though she was a year
younger. Yet she did not assume anything to herself by reason of this
seeming difference in years; and the difference was only seeming.
Perhaps it was that bit of French blood making her so quick-tempered--so
vivacious--so mature-appearing--that accounted for it. And it was, very
likely, that same French blood that gave her a temper which was not to be
admired, and which Mollie tried so hard to conquer. But her friends knew
her failing, and readily forgave her. Besides Mollie there were the
comical twins--Dora--never called anything but Dodo--and Paul, aged four.
They were always getting into mischief, and out again, and were "just too
sweet and dear for anything," as Betty put it. Betty, being an only
child, rather hungered for brothers and sisters.