The Motor Girls in the Mountains: or, The Gypsy Girl's Secret

CHAPTER VI
A PERPLEXING PROBLEM

The gypsy girl regained her self-control in a moment and gently put Cora’s helping arm aside.

“It is nothing,” she said. “I just had an attack of dizziness. The heat of the sun, perhaps.”

It was evident that this last remark was only a pretext, for a pleasant breeze was blowing and they were standing under a great tree that shaded them completely.

“I hope it wasn’t anything I said that startled you,” said Bess curiously.

“How could it have been?” put in Belle incredulously. “You only referred jokingly to that Higby fellow who nearly got away with Cora’s purse when we were shopping yesterday. I’m sure there’s nothing in that to startle anybody.”

Cora had been watching the girl intently, and at this second mention of the young man’s name she saw a swift spasm – was it of pain or fright or a combination of both? – sweep over the girl’s face.

“Well, never mind,” said Cora briskly, “if you’re sure you’re all right now. Perhaps you’d better have a drink of water. Jack, suppose you go to the car and get one of the drinking cups.”

Jack started promptly to obey, but the girl objected so strongly that he stopped and stood irresolute.

“No, no,” she said, “please not. Only leetle deezy, but all right now,” she continued, dropping into the slipshod gypsy manner of speaking. “Let me tell pretty ladies’ fortunes.”

But just then one of the gypsy men, who had been watching the group sharply, stepped up to the girl and spoke to her roughly in a jargon that the girls could not understand. It was evidently a command, for the gypsy girl turned instantly and went away, disappearing into one of the vans, while the man, after a scowl that included all the party, sauntered away and dropped on the grass beside some of his comrades.

“Well, what do you think of that?” demanded Belle in amazement.

“Just when she had a husband picked out for each of you, too,” chaffed Paul. “But cheer up, girls. We’re here yet. Count on us to the last breath. You can’t lose us.”

“No such luck,” retorted Bess. “But what on earth made that man act that way?”

“It isn’t like gypsies to let good money get away from them,” said Jack, “and they must have seen from our open countenances that we were easy marks and ready to cough up.”

“Jack,” said Walter severely, “please pass up that line of chatter – I mean, please refrain from such vulgar slang. In my unregenerate days I could have stood for it – I mean, endured it – but since I have become refined it hits me on the raw – I mean, it affects me painfully.”

“Oh, stop your nonsense, you boys,” chided Cora. “Can’t you see I’m trying to think?”

“Cora’s trying to think!” exclaimed her irrepressible brother. “Heaven be praised that I have lived to see this day!”

Cora gave him a scornful glance, and Jack sagged down at the knees, pretending to wilt.

“Just how did that girl strike you?” asked Cora thoughtfully.

“A peach,” replied Jack promptly.

“A pippin – I mean, she was very good looking,” added Walter.

“I’m asking the girls,” said Cora witheringly.

“She didn’t seem to me like a gypsy at all,” answered Bess. “And yet I suppose of course she must be, since she’s here with them.”

“Did you notice the way she spoke when she was off her guard for a moment?” asked Belle. “She said that she had ‘an attack of dizziness.’ Later on, she was a ‘leetle deezy.’”

“Her eyes were blue,” remarked Cora musingly, “and that is something unusual in a gypsy.”

“But her complexion was as dark as any of the others,” objected Bess.

“That might be accounted for by the tan from the open-air life,” replied Cora. “And then, too, it would be easy to color it artificially.”

“I didn’t know girls ever did such things,” interrupted Jack with a pained expression.

“And then too,” went on Cora, unheeding, “when her sleeve fell back, I saw that her arm was white. But what I’m trying to get at especially is whom she looks like. She resembles some one that I’ve seen before, but I can’t remember who it is.”

“What do you suppose made her act so queerly when I spoke of the stealing of your purse?” asked Bess.

“It wasn’t the robbery itself that startled her,” said Cora. “It was the name of the man, Higby. He was mentioned twice, and each time she looked frightened.”

“I wonder if she knows him,” murmured Belle.

“He said there were lots of girls who would be glad of his company,” laughed Bess. “Perhaps she is one of them.”

“There was no liking in that look of hers,” replied Cora emphatically. “It was positive alarm.”

“If a mere man may break into this discussion,” said Jack humbly, “you fair detectives haven’t yet told us why that pirate over there took the girl away from us.”

“That’s easy,” interposed Walter. “He was jealous. It was my fatal gift of beauty that worried him. The girls all fall for it – I mean, are attracted by it.”

“Girls,” asked Cora exasperatedly, “why are those long legs of Walter’s like organ grinders?”

“Why?” asked Belle.

“Give it up,” said Bess.

“Because,” explained Cora, “they always carry a monkey about with them.”

Walter staggered back.

“Stung!” he moaned. “Penetrated, I mean.”

“Well, don’t suffer too much, poor boy,” said Cora soothingly. “If it’s any comfort to you to know it, your two accomplices in crime are just as bad. Women are the only sensible human beings anyway.”

“Are they human?” asked Walter. “I’ve always thought of them as angels.”

“Stop trying to square yourself,” said Paul.

“Don’t knuckle down to them,” Jack adjured him.

“I must,” replied Walter, “or they won’t let me ride with them any more.”

“We’re not going to, anyway; that is, for the rest of this afternoon,” said Cora. “I want to have the girls in the car with me where we can talk over this thing without being interrupted.”

“Shut out from Eden,” groaned Walter bitterly. “You wash your hands of me. You cast me into outer darkness. Just when the better part of my nature was getting uppermost, you put me back into low company. I wouldn’t have believed it of you, girls.”

“Back to the kennel, you hound!” exclaimed Paul, seizing him by the collar. “You might have known that the girls would throw you down. They always do, sooner or later.”

“Well, now that Lucifer as lightning has fallen from heaven,” remarked Jack, “what do you say to hustling along? The afternoon waneth and my appetite waxeth. Dinner at Camp Kill Kare sounds awfully good to me.”

“I suppose we’ll have to,” assented Cora reluctantly; “but I would like to have another glimpse of that gypsy girl first.”

“Nothing doing,” said Jack. “We’re only visitors here anyway, and we haven’t any right to intrude on their private affairs when they show us so clearly they don’t want us to. Ten to one it’s only a mare’s nest anyway that you’re stirring up, sis, about the girl. Probably she’s an honest to goodness gypsy, just like the rest of them.”

“That’s what my common sense tells me,” agreed Cora, “but something outside of common sense tells me that she isn’t.”

“That’s the way I feel about it too,” echoed Bess.

“I too,” agreed Belle. “She may have been stolen when she was a child. That happens often enough.”

“Not so often as it used to,” said Paul. “The telegraph and the telephone make it too risky.”

“Well, how about it?” said Jack. “Are you three Graces coming along, or do we three scapegraces have to wend our way to Camp Kill Kare alone?”

“There she is now!” exclaimed Bess, as she caught sight of the gypsy girl looking at them from the door of the van.

But a wrinkled crone who was sitting on the top step of the van reached out a skinny arm and angrily pushed the girl inside and out of sight.

“They’ve evidently made up their minds that we’re showing too much interest in her, and for some reason they don’t like it,” sighed Cora. “Well, come along, girls. We’ll have to go. But that gypsy girl has a history and a secret, and I’d give a good deal to find out just what they are.”

CHAPTER VII
THE MOUNTAIN CAMP

The Motor Girls, followed by the boys, made their way briskly back to the cars and climbed in, Walter resuming his place with the other boys and Belle going back to Cora and Bess.

For some time previous to running across the gypsy camp they had been rising higher and higher into the mountains, and now the road became still steeper. They had to run more slowly in consequence, for although both cars were good hill-climbers, it took a good deal of power to make any kind of speed. Besides, as they got farther into the wilderness, the road was rougher and more neglected. But it was just this wildness they had come to seek, and their spirits rose with the difficulties they encountered.

“You go in advance, Jack,” said Cora, as the road grew narrower until it was difficult for the two cars to go side by side. “Of course, having the faster car, I suppose we ought to show the way, but we’re nothing if not magnanimous. If your car balks we’ll push you along. Besides, you have the map.”

“Don’t worry about pushing us along,” retorted Jack. “Just for that, I ought to shoot ahead out of sight and leave you to bitter regrets when you find yourselves lost in the wilderness. But I’m too noble to treat helpless girls that way, so you’re safe for the present. But beware, woman, of goading me too far! It’s a long worm that has no turning.”

“If you’re as mixed in your road directions as you are in your proverbs, I’m afraid we won’t get to Camp Kill Kare to-night,” rejoined Cora. “But go ahead now like a good boy, and think up some more bright things to spring on us. We want to be by ourselves so that we can talk without foolish interruptions.”

“They want to talk,” muttered Jack. “What a novelty!”

“If women talk a good deal, I notice that lots of men take after their mothers,” replied Belle, as Jack’s car darted into the lead.

“Isn’t it tantalizing,” said Cora to her chums, resuming their interrupted conversation, “that I can’t think just whom that gypsy girl looks like? Don’t you know how it is when you are trying to recall a word or a line of poetry or something, and have it just on the tip of your tongue but can’t quite get it? I feel just that way about this resemblance. I’m perfectly sure I’ve seen some one very much like her. Can’t you girls help me out? We’re together so much, and we know the same people. Put on your thinking caps and see if you can’t give me a hint.”

“I only wish I could,” replied Belle thoughtfully. “There was something a little familiar about the girl, though it didn’t strike me as strongly as it did you.”

“There was a certain look in her eyes that suggested somebody I’ve seen,” said Bess, “but for the life of me I can’t remember who it was. But even suppose we did remember? It wouldn’t prove anything. There are lots of people in the world who look alike and yet who haven’t the slightest relation to each other.”

“I know it,” admitted Cora. “But just the same I have what the boys would call a hunch that in this case it would give us a clue to the gypsy girl’s secret.”

“If she has any,” laughed Bess.

“Get out your crystal sphere, Sybilla, and pluck the heart from this mystery,” smiled Belle.

“You girls can laugh if you want to,” rejoined Cora, “but all the same I’ll think about this and perhaps dream about it until I recall the face I’m groping for.”

“I shouldn’t wonder if we’d have something more practical to think of before long,” remarked Belle, pointing to the sky. “Do you see those clouds coming up there? I’ve been watching them for the last five minutes and they’re getting bigger and blacker all the time. I’d hate to be caught in a thunderstorm.”

“And get into Camp Kill Kare all wet and bedraggled,” added Bess. “Oh, Cora, let’s hurry!”

“It isn’t getting wet that bothers me so much,” replied Cora. “We could put up the top and keep dry enough. But a heavy storm would turn the road into a quagmire, and goodness knows it’s bad enough as it is.”

The boys ahead had seen the signs, and Jack shouted back:

“Give her all the juice she can stand, sis! If the storm only holds off for fifteen minutes we’ll make the camp.”

His own car shot ahead, and Cora threw in the speed and kept close behind. They could hear now faint rumblings of thunder, all the more noticeable because of the sudden hush that had fallen over the forest, as birds and animals and insects sensed the coming storm.

Darker and darker it grew and faster and faster the cars sped along, as their drivers called on the last ounce of speed they had in them. Despite their fluttering of anxiety, the girls had a keen sense of exhilaration in this race with the elements. Their veils whipped about their faces and their glowing eyes and reddened cheeks showed their inward excitement.

A jagged flash of lightning shot across the sky, followed by a deafening peal of thunder. It was evident that the bolt had struck not far off, for a moment later they heard the crash of a falling tree at a little distance to the right.

“Oh, hurry! hurry!” urged Bess and Belle.

“Do you think I’m creeping?” Cora called back. “I can’t talk to the car and encourage it as I might a horse. You’ll notice that the boys aren’t leaving us behind.”

As a matter of fact, the cars were nearly touching.

“Keep up your pluck, girls!” Jack called back. “If this map is all right, we’ll make the camp in five minutes more.”

“If we didn’t have an old tub in front of us, we’d make it in four,” sang out Cora.

“If the rain will only hold off,” murmured Belle.

But the prospect grew ever more threatening. The peals of thunder were redoubled and the lightning played so vividly across the sky that Bess covered her face with her hands.

“Suppose the car should be struck!” she exclaimed.

“If it were, we’d probably never know it,” was all the comfort her sister could give.

Just then there was an appalling roar, and a great tree, split from top to bottom, swayed for a moment and then fell with a deafening crash right across the road, about a hundred feet in front of the leading car.

There were shrieks from the girls, and a jumble of shouts came from the boys, as Jack brought his machine to a halt, and Cora, who had not lost her presence of mind, did the same.

All jumped out and ran forward. A glance told them that there was no getting past the tree. It blocked the road completely. Nor was it possible to get around the fallen monarch with the cars, for there was dense undergrowth on both sides of the road.

“No help for it, girls,” announced Jack, after a hurried examination of the conditions. “We’ll have to run for it. I caught a glimpse of the bungalow a minute ago, and it’s not far from here. We’ll have to leave the cars here and come back and cut a path for them after the storm’s over.”

“But suppose they should be stolen?” objected Belle.

“Mighty little chance of that in this neck of the woods,” replied Paul. “You notice we haven’t met any one for the last two hours. We’ll put up the tops so that the inside won’t get wet. And there’ll be some one at the bungalow that we can send out to guard them and keep you from worrying about them.”

“Now we’ve got to make tracks for the house. Come ahead, girls!” cried Jack, as soon as the tops had been put up.

Each of the boys took charge of one of the girls, and they skirted the tree, pushing their way through the underbrush till they reached the road on the other side.

The outdoor life of the Motor Girls had made them fleet and strong, and although of course with their clinging skirts they could not keep up with the boys, the latter accommodated their pace to theirs, and they came in sight of the bungalow in a few minutes.

But the rain was coming, too, and it was a pretty race. They could see it being driven before the wind in great gusts, and they felt the pattering of the advance drops. And just as they gained the shelter of the bungalow porch, the rain came down in torrents.

Their coming had been seen from the house, and Aunt Betty King came running out to meet them.

“You darlings!” she cried, as she tried to gather all the girls at once into her arms, and kissed them in turn. “How glad I am to see you! I’ve been watching for you for the last two hours and was beginning to worry for fear you wouldn’t get here before dark. And how lucky you were to get here ahead of the storm. But how on earth did you come?”

“We ran here all the way from Chelton,” said Jack with a sober face. “How is that for Marathon work?”

“Don’t pay any attention to that fibber,” laughed Cora. “You know what Jack is. Our cars are standing a little way down the road. The lightning struck a tree and it fell so that it blocked the path. So we had to make the rest of the way on foot.”

“You poor dears!” exclaimed Aunt Betty with ready sympathy. “But come right in now and get rested. You must be awfully tired after your long journey, and you’re all out of breath from running so hard. And you boys, too. Your rooms are all ready for you and supper will be ready in a few minutes.”

She led the way inside, followed by the flushed and panting travelers, glad that the end of their journey found them safely housed at Camp Kill Kare.

The bungalow was a strongly built and capacious one. It had only two stories, but was very wide and deep. It stood on a high point in the Adirondack Mountains, with a view that stretched for many miles in all directions. There was a large cleared space about the building, but one had only to go a few rods away to find himself in a genuine wilderness.

The bungalow belonged to a relative of Mrs. Kimball. Usually the owner occupied it himself during the summer months; but this year he was on a trip to India, hunting for big game, and he had placed the camp at Mrs. Kimball’s disposal, with a cordial invitation to occupy it and make use of all the facilities it afforded for enjoyment.

As Cora’s mother could not accompany the young folks, the question of a suitable chaperon had given her some concern. But this had been solved by securing the consent of Aunt Betty to undertake that responsibility.

Mrs. King was not really Cora’s aunt, being a second cousin of Mrs. Kimball. But everybody called her by the comfortable and affectionate title of Aunt Betty, and she was a great favorite in the Kimball home, which she frequently visited. She was a widow without children, and she welcomed the opportunity of mothering this lively brood of young people.

The main floor of the bungalow was divided into two parts by the long hall that ran from front to back. On the right was a large living room and library combined. Off from this was a music room, and the girls gave little cries of delight as they saw a handsome baby grand piano through the portières.

On the left of the hall was the dining room, which appealed more strongly to the boys than the music room, and back of this was the kitchen, from which savory odors were wafted to their olfactory organs.

Up the broad stairs Aunt Betty led the way, and pointed out to the various members of the party the rooms they were to occupy. Those of the girls were on the south side of the house, while the boys’ quarters faced the north. Trunks had been sent on before and were in the rooms.

“What perfectly darling rooms!” cried Cora, as the delighted girls let their eyes roam over the two connecting rooms that had been assigned to them.

“That’s all right!” shouted Jack from across the hall, “but don’t forget that there’s a perfectly darling little dining room downstairs, and I’m honing to make its acquaintance.”

“Don’t worry,” flung back Belle. “We’ll be ready to go down as soon as you are.”

“Ha, ha!” cried Jack. “Listen to my low, mirthless laugh.”

CHAPTER VIII
FUN IN THE OPEN

Jack’s sardonic laugh seemed to be justified, for the boys had been below stairs for several minutes before the girls came trooping down.

“One more proof that I’m never mistaken,” Jack remarked, as he shook his head sadly at the laughing bevy.

“You boys haven’t so much to do as we girls have,” said Belle, making a little face at him.

“We haven’t, eh?” replied Walter. “I lost all my hair-pins in that mad sprint for the house.”

“And the rain took my hair out of curl,” added Paul.

“And I had the greatest hunt before I found my box of powder!” said Jack in a high falsetto.

Just then Mrs. King came in from the kitchen, where she had been supervising the preparations for dinner.

“Come right along now and take your places at the table,” she beamed.

“Table is my middle name!” exclaimed Jack, as he led the way, followed by the others.

It was a sumptuous meal that Aunt Betty had prepared, and with their appetites sharpened by their long ride, the travelers did it full justice. And the warmth and good cheer of the cozy dining room were emphasized by contrast with the rain that beat upon the windows.

“A regular flood,” commented Jack.

“Noah would have felt at home in that,” said Bess.

“That reminds me,” interposed Paul. “Noah was supposed to take two specimens of every kind of animal when he went into the Ark. But there was one species he overlooked.”

“What was that?” asked Cora.

“Rats,” replied Paul.

“How do you make that out?” inquired Belle.

“Why,” Paul answered, “he had been sailing forty days before he saw ary rat.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Ararat!” Cora at length exclaimed. “Paul, how could you inflict that on us?”

“You ought to be shot at sunrise,” said Bess.

“Now you see, Aunt Betty, what we’ve had to stand on our journey up here,” moaned Cora.

“I must say you seem to have thrived on it,” smiled Aunt Betty, looking at the rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes of the girls.

“Good for Aunt Betty!” cried Walter. “She appreciates us! You girls will too, when you’ve seen a little more of men and realize how we stand out from the common herd.”

“Who was that woman,” asked Bess, turning to Cora, “who said that the more she saw of men the more fond she grew of dogs?”

“Poor, misguided female,” said Paul pityingly. “I suppose she was an inmate of a lunatic asylum.”

“More to be pitied than censured,” added Jack.

By this time they had reached dessert, and when they had finished, Aunt Betty proposed an adjournment to the porch.

“It’s perfectly dry and snug out here,” she said, “and I think the rain will be over soon anyway. When it rains so hard up here it doesn’t last very long. But you girls had better get some wraps, for even though it is August, the nights are rather cool, especially after a storm.”

There was an abundance of big, comfortable chairs on the porch, and they grouped them into a semi-circle and sat laughing and talking, on the best of terms with themselves and the world.

“That was rather a narrow escape we had this afternoon,” remarked Bess. “If we had been a hundred feet further on the road than we were, that tree would have come down plump on top of us.”

“A miss is as good as a mile,” returned Jack lightly.

“By the way, I suppose those poor old cars of ours are getting a thorough soaking,” observed Cora. “What are you going to do about them, boys? It doesn’t seem to me that we ought to let them stay there all night.”

“I guess it’s up to us fellows to take a turn down there and look them over,” answered Jack. “The fact is that I’ve had such a good dinner that I feel too lazy to move. But far be it from me to resist the plain call of duty.”

“What’s the matter with us girls going along with you?” asked Bess.

Aunt Betty looked aghast.

“What, in all this mud and rain?” she protested.

“You forget that we Motor Girls are used to being out in all kinds of weather,” laughed Cora. “But we’ll promise to wrap up well if you let us go. It’s lucky that our trunks were sent on up here ahead of us, so that we have our rubbers and raincoats all ready to get into. Besides, it’s practically stopped raining now.”

Aunt Betty was very easily won over.

“I’ll send Joel, the stableman, along with a lantern,” she said. “He knows the woods like a book by night or day. Then, too, he’s as strong as an ox, and he can help to get the cars out of the fix.”

“And we’ll take a couple of axes along,” said Jack. “I have an idea some tall chopping will have to be done before we get the cars where they belong.”

The girls went up to get their raincoats and overshoes, while the boys got their hats and hunted up Joel.

He was a tall, gaunt backwoodsman, who in his earlier days had been a guide in the Adirondack region. But periodic attacks of rheumatism had made it difficult for him to continue his calling, and he had become the man of all work at Kill Kare Camp. He knew the forest thoroughly and had an intimate acquaintance with the habits of every creature that had fur, fin or feather.

Despite his somewhat advanced years, he was still a powerful man, and his strength was equaled by his good-nature and reliability.

The boys liked him at once, and he on his part was very friendly and cordial.

“So you’ve got a couple o’ them buzz wagons stalled there,” he said. “Never rode in one in my life, but the pesky things suttinly have it all over a hoss when it comes to git up and git.”

“You’ve got a treat waiting for you, then, Joel,” laughed Jack. “Some day we’ll take you riding, and you’ll go so fast you’ll have to hold on to your hair to keep it from being blown off.”

“I ain’t prezactly pinin’ fur no sich speed as that,” said Joel. “I sh’d think them gals w’u’d be skeered to death to ride in one uv them.”

“They drive them as well as ride in them,” returned Jack. “My sister can handle one of them as well as any man can. You ought to have seen the race she gave me yesterday.”

“Ye don’t say so!” replied Joel, and it was evident that his respect for the feminine members of the party had gone up several degrees.

They were soon equipped with a lantern and three axes. In addition, Joel took along some sticks of resinous wood to serve as torches, and they came around to the front porch, where they found the girls impatiently waiting for them.

All started out in high spirits, Joel leading the way. The road was muddy, but they found fairly good footing on the turf that bordered it. The rain had now entirely ceased.

It was not long before they reached the fallen tree, and they found the cars standing where they had left them.

“Ye needn’t hev bin much skeered,” grinned Joel. “There ain’t many folks come along this way, an’ them that do is giner’lly honest. It’s only when the gypsies come round thet we hev to keep a tight grip on things, specially hosses. Them gypsies suttinly is light-fingered, an’ they kin beat a weasel in gittin’ into places where they ain’t got no business to be.”

“We saw a camp of them to-day,” said Cora, in whom the word “gypsy” just now woke an instant response.

“Is thet so?” asked Joel in surprise. “Then they’re probably headed up this way. I heven’t seen ’em around these diggin’s fur sev’ral years now, and I wuz hopin’ I’d never see their ugly faces ag’in.”

“I’d like to see Joel go to the mat with that pirate that took the girl away from us to-day,” grinned Jack.

“It would be some scrap,” agreed Walter, as he took in the brawn and bulk of the backwoodsman. “I’d bet on Joel unless the other fellow used a knife.”

In order to see more clearly what they were doing, the torches were lighted and placed where they would do the most good. Then Joel surveyed the scene of action.

“There’s jist one thing to do,” he finally announced, “an’ thet is to cut through this tree an’ git it off uv the road. It might be a leetle bit easier to git the cars around through the brush, but the tree can’t be let to stay there blockin’ up the road, an’ I might ez well git it out of the way fust ez last.”

He took off his corduroy jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, showing the mighty biceps beneath.

“You’re not going to do it all alone,” protested Jack. “Let us help. There are two axes besides yours.”

“Why,” said Joel a little dubiously, “you boys ain’t used to this kind uv work, an’ I’m afraid it’ll use ye up too much. It ain’t only the strength, but there’s a knack about usin’ a woodsman’s ax thet it takes time to git on to. Still, ye kin try it fur a while if ye want to.”

Jack and Paul took off their coats, while the girls, who were perched like so many birds in Jack’s car, clapped their hands in mock applause.

“Behold the gallant foresters,” sang out Belle.

 
“‘Woodman, spare that tree,
Touch not a single bough!’”
 

quoted Bess.

 
“To-day it threatened me,
I’ve no use for it now,”
 

improvised Cora.

“Listen to the trilling of the merry songsters,” said Jack, with impressive sarcasm. “They toil not, neither do they spin. They mock and fleer at us sons of honest toil. They – ”

“Get to work, Jack,” Cora interrupted him heartlessly. “I love to see you work. It’s so unusual. Joel will have the trunk cut through before you boys get started.”

Thus adjured, Jack and Paul started in with a right good will, each attacking the trunk at a distance of about ten feet on either side of Joel.

Both boys were strong and sturdy, and they worked the more vigorously because they were under the appraising eyes of the girls. But their work was nothing compared with Joel’s. Nowhere could there have been found a more striking illustration of the advantages of the professional over the amateur.

Joel’s work was the very poetry of motion. Back and forth his flashing ax swung tirelessly, biting with resistless force into the very heart of the tree, and in a surprisingly short time he had cut the trunk entirely through.

Walter took his turn with the other boys and did valiant execution. But all were soon winded with their unusual exertions, and were forced to rest, while the perspiration poured down their faces in streams.

“This has got it all over a Turkish bath,” muttered Jack.

“I’ll bet I’ve lost five pounds in as many minutes,” growled Paul.

“There’s an idea for you, Bess,” said her sister mischievously. “Talk about reducing. You’d be a sylph in half an hour.”

“I’d be a corpse, you mean,” responded Bess. “No, thank you. I’ll take my reducing in homeopathic doses.”

Joel at this point insisted on finishing the job. He had not turned a hair in his previous exertions, and he seemed as fresh as ever when the work was completely done.

“Now how are we going to get the logs off the road?” asked Jack.