CHAPTER XVII
OFF ON SNOWSHOES
Mr. Gordon encouraged the English girl at this point in her story byassuring her that he would, before returning to Canada, put the matter inthe hands of his lawyers and have the search for the elder Ida Bellethorneconducted in a more businesslike way.
"How did you expect to find your aunt," he asked, "when you first landedin New York?"
"I knew of a musical journal published there which I believed kept trackof people who sang. I went to that office. The last they knew of my auntshe was booked to sing at a concert in Washington," Ida said sadly. "Thedate was the very day I called at the office. I hurried to buy a ticket toWashington. But the distance was so great that when my train got intoWashington the concert was over and I could do nothing more until the nextday."
"And then?" asked Uncle Dick.
"She had gone again. All the company had gone and I could find nobody whoknew anything about her. I--I didn't have much money left," confessed thegirl. "And things do cost so much here in your country. I was frightened.I walked about to find a cheap lodging and reached that street inGeorgetown where Mrs. Staples has her shop."
"I see," commented Uncle Dick.
"So I asked Mrs. Staples. She was English too, and she offered me lodgingsand a chance to serve in her shop. I took it. What else could I do?"
"You are a plucky girl, I must say. Don't you think so. Betty?" said UncleDick.
"I think she is quite wonderful!" cried his niece. "And think of hermaking those blouses so beautifully! You know, Ida, Bobby bought the blueone of Mrs. Staples."
"I am glad, if you like them," said the other girl, blushing faintly. "Ihad hard work to persuade Mrs. Staples to pay for that one on the chanceof your coming back for it."
"Well," interposed Uncle Dick, "tell us the rest. You thought you heard ofyour Aunt Ida up here, in the mountains?"
"Yes, Mr. Gordon," said Ida. "I read it in the paper. But the notice musthave referred to my dear little mare. I never dreamed she had been sentover here. I never dreamed of it!"
"No?"
"Of course I didn't! And when I got to Cliffdale there was nobody who hadever heard of my aunt. There are two hotels. One of them is closed atthis time of year. At the other there was no such guest."
"Dear me! How disappointed you must have felt," murmured Betty.
"You can't imagine! But in talking with the clerk at the hotel I got newsof my little darling."
"Meaning the mare, of course?" suggested Uncle Dick.
"Yes. She had arrived the night before and had been taken directly toCandace Farm. The clerk told me how to get there. I did not feel that Icould afford to hire anybody to take me there. And I knew nobody. So I setout to walk day before yesterday morning."
"Before it began to snow?" asked Betty.
"Yes, Miss Gordon."
"Oh, please," cried Betty, "call me Betty. I'm not old enough to be MissGordon. To a girl, anyway," she added. "With a strange boy it would bedifferent."
The English girl consented, and then went on with her story.
"It was cloudy but I did not know anything about such storms as you havehere. Oh, dear me, how it snowed and blew! I got to that little house andI could open the door. If I had had to go many yards farther I would havefallen down and been covered by the snow."
"You poor dear!" murmured Betty, putting an arm around the other girl.
Ida gave her a tearful smile, and Betty kissed her. And then the lattersuddenly remembered again her lost locket. She gave a little jump in herchair. But she did not speak of it.
Not for a moment did she believe Ida Bellethorne would be guilty ofstealing her trinket. Uncle Dick evidently did not think of thatpossibility, either. Could Betty suggest such a matter when already Idawas in so much trouble? At least, she would wait and see what came of it.So she hugged Ida more closely and said:
"Go on. What else?"
"Not much else, Betty," said the English girl, wiping her eyes again andsmiling. "I just stayed there in that house until you came along and savedme. There was nothing to burn but the furniture in the house, and I burnedit. I suppose the poor man who owns it will want to be paid. Oh, dear!"
"I wouldn't worry about that," said Mr. Gordon, cheerfully. "You seem tohave come through a good deal. I'd take it easy now. Mrs. Canary and thegirls are glad to have you here. When we go back to town we will take youwith us and see what can be done."
"Thank you, Mr. Gordon. You are very kind. I should like to know about mylittle mare. She is a darling! How this Mr. Bolter came to get her----"
"Oh, Ida!" cried Betty, breaking in suddenly, "do you know a little man, acrooked little man, named Hunchie Slattery?"
"My goodness, Betty! Of course I remember Hunchie. He worked in ourstables."
"He is with Ida Bellethorne, your pretty mare. He takes care of her. Italked with him at Mr. Bolter's farm in Virginia. The mare has a cough,and she was sent up here to get well. And I heard Mr. Bolter himself tellHunchie Slattery that he was to go with her."
"Dear me, Betty! if I could find Hunchie, too, I'd feel better. He mightbe able to tell me how it came that my mare was taken away and sold. Shereally did belong to me, Mr. Gordon. Mr. Jackwood, father's administratorand my guardian, showed me the bill of sale making me Ida's owner. Andeven if I was a minor, wouldn't that be a legal transfer paper?"
"I am not sure of the English law, my dear. But it seems to me it would bein this country. At any rate, that will be another thing to consult mylawyers about. I understand Bolter paid somewhere near twenty thousanddollars for the mare. It would be quite a fortune for you, Ida."
"Indeed it would. And the mare is worth all of four thousand pounds, Iknow. Father always said there was no better mare in all England than IdaBellethorne, and Aunt Ida might be proud to have such a horse named afterher."
"We are not far from the Candace Farm and perhaps we can get over therebefore we leave Mountain Camp," Mr. Gordon said kindly. "Then you can seeyour horse and the man from home. I will get a statement from this jockey,or hostler, or whatever he is, and it may aid my lawyers in their searchfor the facts regarding the sale of the mare to Mr. Bolter."
"Thank you very kindly, Mr. Gordon."
The conference broke up and Betty ran out to join her mates on the lake.Ida could not skate. And, anyway, she preferred to sit indoors with Mrs.Canary. Ida had the silk for another sweater in her bag, and that veryhour she began to knit an over-blouse for Libbie, who had expressed adesire to possess one like those Betty and Bobby had bought.
The skating was fine, but the wind had risen again and this time it was awarm wind. The snow grew soft on the surface, and when the party came upthe bluff for luncheon it was not easy to walk and they sank deeply intothe snow.
"This is a weather breeder," said Mr. Canary, standing on the porch togreet them. "I fear you young folks have come to Mountain Camp at thebeginning of the roughest part of the winter."
"Don't apologize for your weather, Jack," laughed Uncle Dick. "If it growstoo boisterous or unpleasant outside, these young people must find theirfun indoors."
And this is what they did for the next two days. The temperature moderateda good deal, and then it rained. Not a hard downpour, but a drifting"Scotch mist" that settled the snowdrifts and finally left them saturatedwith water.
Then back came the frost--sharp, snappy and robust. The air cleared likemagic. The sun shone out of a perfectly clear sky. Just to put one's headout of the door make the blood tingle.
Meanwhile both the girls and boys had found plenty of interesting thingsto do indoors, as Uncle Dick had prophesied. Especially the boys. Underthe teaching of Uncle Dick and Mr. Canary they had learned to stringsnowshoes. Mr. Canary had the frames and the thongs of which the webs arewoven. Even Timothy neglected the library to engage in this fascinatingwork.
Of course, the girls must have webs as well. Betty and Bobby wereparticularly eager to learn to walk on snowshoes and, as Bob Hendersonsaid, they "pestered" the b
oys until sufficient pairs of webs were made toenable the entire party to try walking on them when the time was ripe.
On the third morning, just at dawn, there was a heavy snow squall for anhour. It left about four inches of downy snow upon the hard-packed andslippery surface of the drifts.
"This is an ideal condition," said Mr. Gordon with enthusiasm. "My feetitch to be off on the webs myself. After breakfast we will try them out.Now remember the rules I have been telling you, and see how well you canall learn to shuffle over this snow."
Thoughtful Bob had strung an extra pair of shoes for Ida. He knew thatBetty did not want the English girl left out of their good times. And allthe crowd liked Ida. Although she was in the main a very quiet girl, asone grew to know her she proved to possess charming qualities both of mindand heart.
Ida was not as warmly dressed for venturing into the open as the othergirls. But Mrs. Canary, one of the kindest souls in the world, mended thisdefect. She furnished Ida with a fur coat and gloves that secured her fromfrostbite.
The whole party turned out gaily. Having been confined to the house foralmost forty-eight hours, they were as full of life as colts. But in a fewminutes the nine of them were on snowshoes and watched and instructed byUncle Dick were learning their first lesson in the rather ticklish art ofscuffling over the soft snow without tripping and plunging headlong intoit.
Not that there were not many laughable accidents. The capers both boysand girls involuntarily cut led to shouts of laughter, and sometimes to alittle pain. For the frozen crust underneath the light surface snowoffered a rather hard foundation when one fell flat.
The necessary falls incident to learning the right trick of handling one'sself on snowshoes soon cured the first enthusiasm of several of the party.Louise, for instance, found it too strenuous for her liking. And Timothygot a bump on the back of his head that no phrenologist could have easilydescribed.
The second day, however, Betty, Bobby and Ida, with Bob and Tommy Tucker,were just as enthusiastic on the subject of snowshoeing as at first. Whilethe others swept off a part of the lake just below the Outlook, thesnowshoeing party set off on their first real hike through the woods; andthat hike led to an unexpected adventure.
Betty Gordon at Mountain Camp; Or, The Mystery of Ida Bellethorne Page 17
