The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong; Or, Peg of Tamarack Hills

by Lilian Garis

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE GRANITE STAR CLUE

  Sightseeing was forgotten now and general interest centered on Peg andher Aunt Carrie. This lady, as usual, was delighted to meet theScouts, and talked freely to Miss Mackin of her hope that Peggieshould "mingle more" with the campers. Peg, herself, had come downfrom the rock and out of the ravine, disheveled, untidy and plainlytired.

  "You simply must join our picnic," gushed Louise. "It seems like thebest of luck that we should have come up here."

  Peg smiled and frowned alternately. She noticed her aunt was alreadyunder the influence of a sandwich. It was a good fat one, with greenlettuce fringe and it came from Cleo's kit.

  "I'll be back in a moment. I must attend to Whirlwind," said Peg. Thegirls saw now she had pockets in that big leather apron, and theybulged out--perhaps with some mountain souvenirs.

  Grace attempted to follow Peg, going toward the horse under a bigtamarack tree, but the girl was evidently unconscious of thisattention, and as she hurried off, Grace, after a few steps ofuncertainty, turned back and flopped down on the edge of the circle ofpicnic makers.

  There was something very charming about Aunt Carrie. Even handling thefood betrayed her culture, and her solicitation about another'scomfort, all pointed to a knowledge of the little things acquired ingood breeding. And she was well cared for in spite of the mountainlife; her skin though dark was velvety, her hair like white floss, andonly when she removed her gloves for handling the food did her littlefriends have an opportunity of noticing, besides the care her handsreceived, that she wore a great opal ring, carved with the beetle,perhaps.

  Peg was coming back, and her pockets had been emptied, for the heavyskirt now slinked around her slender form. She held her boyish hat byits chin strap and smiled happily as she fell in with the group.

  Yes, her eyes were of the same deep, dark cast, and her skin had thatsame olive tint, even her gestures showed what a real relation thisgirl was to the woman in the old-fashioned riding habit.

  "You ride a lot, don't you?" said Cleo, carelessly.

  "Yes, it's the one thing to do out here," replied Peg. She was tryingsomething from a number of tempting food samples offered her.

  "And you enjoy riding, Miss Ramsdell?" said Miss Mackin to the aunt.

  "I feel more at home on a horse than I do on my feet," replied thewoman. "But you see, I have always been used to horses."

  "And not to feet----" flashed Peg.

  "Now, my dear, don't tease an old lady. I have hard work enough tokeep up with you on foot or in the saddle," replied Aunt Carrie.

  Both Cleo and Grace were thinking of the girl Leonore Fairbanks, andboth were anxious to mention to Peg her presence at the log cabin. Itcame about precipitately, however.

  Louise was pouring the lemonade and had just served Aunt Carrie. Thecup for Peg was filled and being extended when Grace said:

  "We saw company at your house as we came along, Peg."

  "Company?" She accepted Louise's cup.

  "Yes. One of the girls from the hotel. She said she was LeonoreFairbanks."

  "Leonore Fairbanks? Where was she?" Peg's voice was a signal of alarm.

  "Oh, Shag was on guard," put in Cleo. "She was around by the sideporch, but no danger of anyone making herself too much at home withShag doing picket duty."

  Miss Ramsdell lay down her piece of cake. Peg did likewise with herlemonade. Each had exchanged code glances.

  "I'll run home and see if--if everything is all right," said the girl,anxiously. "Auntie, you can follow or stay, I'll be all right. Sorryto leave the picnic," she apologized. And the remarks that followedher did not all reach her ears, for as quickly as even she, thelightfoot, could do it, she was on Whirlwind and galloping away downthe hills, leaving after her the chagrined Bobbies.

  "Why did you tell her?" whispered Helen to Grace.

  "Because she should know," replied the latter, emphatically.

  Miss Ramsdell was also leaving.

  "Peggie is so temperamental," she apologized. "But the Fairbanksfamily are not to be trusted--we have had our own troubles with thosegirls and their unscrupulous father."

  "But we are so sorry you couldn't have stayed a little longer," saidMiss Mackin. "I was just hoping our girls were finally going to getacquainted. You see we have so short a time here now, and your placehas been an attraction from the first," she smiled condescendingly atthe glowering Scouts.

  "Please do not think us rude," begged Miss Ramsdell. "We are not freeto act as we would always choose. Sometimes I doubt the wisdom of myniece's determination; but she is determined to the point ofdesperation, and she keeps offsetting my arguments with the hope of anearly victory." (This was ambiguous but sounded effective.) "I must goright along after her," continued the little lady. "If that Leonoreshould become too aggressive I wouldn't wonder if Peg would just usesome muscle on her," and she nodded her head insistently.

  "We hate to have you go," murmured Cleo. She was going over to theshady spot where the black mare waited its rider. Miss Ramsdell drewon her gloves while the Scout led her horse up to a stone convenientfor mounting.

  "We are so grateful and have enjoyed our little picnic so much," saidthe woman. "Good-bye, everyone, and perhaps before camp breaks we maybe able to offer our own humble hospitality." With a slight effort shewas in the saddle. Yes, it was perfectly evident that Miss Ramsdellwas very much at home on her horse.

  "A one reel act," remarked Louise. "I shouldn't care to keep moving atthe pace the Ramsdells run."

  "They surely fear trouble," said Julia. "What can they be so secretiveabout?"

  "Whatever it is I wouldn't like to be playing Leonore's part when Pegmeets her," remarked Grace. "As her aunt said, she would likely usemuscle on the intruder," and Grace demonstrated to the loss of aperfectly good half cup of lemonade that had been, until that moment,in the hand of Julia.

  "And was Shag really keeping guard?" questioned Helen, keen on thescent of trouble for someone else.

  "He was doing picket duty," replied Cleo. "It was too funny to see himsnoop after Leonore's heels. And she was almost sweet to us. I fancyshe thought we might take her part with Shag."

  "Girls, when you have finished your chow we will take up the trailagain," suggested Miss Mackin. "There are some ores and metallic veinsin rocks about here, I believe, and we may make some interestingdiscoveries."

  "Look out for the dynamite sign," warned Corene. "I wonder who everplanted those signs about?"

  "Where are they?" asked Miss Mackin.

  "Over by the Big Nose Rock," replied Louise. "We saw them the otherday when we were riding."

  "And we thought the boys might have a bandits' cove under the hills,"added Cleo. "Let's go over that way and explore."

  Eagerly this suggestion was followed--so eagerly Corene and Miss Mackinhad difficulty in obliging the girls to get rid of every trace of thepicnic, thus conforming to a Scout regulation. But when the paper bagshad all been burned up in a carefully arranged little fire, afterwhich every ember and spark were extinguished, then they took up thetrail for Big Nose Rock.

  They had some difficulty in cutting through from one hill to the next,as very heavy underbrush, especially the iron fibered mountain laurel,hid the rocks and betrayed the hikers' footing; but after a number ofminor mishaps all disposed of by the process of exclamation, theBobbies finally emerged in the little patch of soft green at the footof the big gray rock.

  "I found the first one!" called out Helen. "Here's a dynamite sign!"

  "Don't touch it!" cautioned Miss Mackin. "There is a powder mill notfar from here and there may be magazines about."

  "Magazines!" questioned Corene. They were all inspecting the dangersign half hidden in the grass.

  "Yes. You know they sometimes bury explosives under the ground. Thenthey build a little mound above it and call it a magazine."

  "No mounds around here," declared Julia, glancing critically over theflat surface between the hill and the springs.


  "But here's something," observed Cleo, who had wandered off a shortdistance. "Looks like pieces of gray stone." She stooped to pick up asample and then hesitated. "See how they grow," she remarked, "in asort of star."

  Her companions gathered around to observe the curious formation, andMiss Mackin came closer.

  "Those have been arranged that way," she said. "See, someone hasplaced the little flat stones in the shape of a star. The boys reallymust have been up here," she concluded.

  The girls dropped on their knees and peered closely. Brushing back thegrass it was now quite evident that star had been carefully formed,but it was hidden in a little pocket of deep grass, between two slopesthat curved up to the rocky hills.

  "And see how deep the pieces are buried," commented Corene. She wasprying up a sample with a small sharp stick.

  "Some sort of clue, surely," insisted Grace. "What kind of stone isit?"

  "I wouldn't disturb it," suggested Miss Mackin. "Suppose we just markthe spot so we can find it again, if we want to?"

  "Yes, let's put one of the dynamite signs here," exclaimed Helen.

  "I wouldn't," interposed clever Cleo. "Perhaps the dynamite peopledon't know anything about the star clue. We might lead them to it."

  "But it's only a stone star," insisted Helen.

  "And it didn't grow there," argued Cleo.

  "Look!" exclaimed Corene, who was critically examining the tiny stripof stone she had pried loose. "There are some figures or somethingmarked on this."

  Everyone now crowded around her to see the characters.

  "That is not Indian," declared Miss Mackin. "It looks as if it wereburned in with acid."

  She was scrutinizing the little flat mosaic-like block. Yes, thereseemed to be a mark there, but it might easily have been on the stonebefore the star idea originated.

  "I'm going to keep this piece, at any rate," declared Corene. "Maybeit's a real carved beetle, like the Egyptian Scarabus," she ventured.

  "Hardly," replied the director. "Yet it is interesting and yours,Corey, as you dug it up."

  "Then I'm going to have one also," cried Cleo, already on her kneesbefore the broken star.

  "Count the pieces," suggested Louise, "and perhaps we can all have apiece."

  "Very well," agreed Miss Mackin, "but mark the spot well. It may havesome significance."

  The girls were eagerly digging up the little granite pieces. As theyturned each over they found it marked with characters similar to thatfound by Corene.

  "I know! I know!" exclaimed Julia. "I've read about this sort ofmarking. See, the straight lines. That's the rune."

  "Rune!" repeated Grace.

  "Yes, don't you know we read of it in our ancient history? A rune is asort of alphabet of sixteen characters and all are formed in straightlines."

  "I remember," spoke up Cleo. "The letters look exactly like our signalcode, for wig-wagging. Don't you know there were pictures of funnyclothes-pins and jumping-jacks?"

  Not all were exactly clear in their memory of the runes, but eachintended to look it up, and Miss Mackin was delighted that her girlshad stumbled upon so interesting a discovery. Carefully collecting allthe pieces the Bobbies next proceeded to mark the spot secretly, andit was this seemingly trifling detail that eventually led to thefinding of the granite star clue.