The Outdoor Girls of Deepdale; Or, camping and tramping for fun and health

by Laura Lee Hope

  CHAPTER II

  THE TRAMPING CLUB

  With staring eyes, and with breaths that were labored, the three chumsgathered 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 hundreddollar 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 themoney. "There's no doubt of that."

  "If findings were keepings you'd be well off," said Mollie. "How luckyyou are!" and sighed.

  "Of course I can't keep it," decided Betty. "But I wonder who couldhave dropped it?" and she looked up at the railroad bridge over theirheads, as if she might see some one standing there waiting for thereturn of the bill.

  "What is that paper pinned to it?" asked Grace, as she took hold of itwhile Betty held the bank note by the two ends.

  "That's so--I forgot to look at that," said the finder. She turned itover. There was some writing on it. It said:

  "_ This is my last five hundred dollar bill--all that is left of myfortune. This is to remind me that if I don't make good use of this Idon't deserve any more luck. It is make or break with me now! Whichwill it be?_"

  The girls were silent for a moment or two after reading this strangemessage 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, theremay 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 abroker, he's quite likely to know about such things, and can tell uswhat to do. This is quite a lot of money to lose, I wonder how we canfind 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 belongsto, coming back to look for it," spoke Grace.

  Thus came some opinions, and while various others were rapidly formed andexpressed, and as the girls are speculating on how the bill, and theattached paper, came to lie so openly on the highway, I hope I may bepermitted 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 wouldcall "pretty"--that is, at first glance. More likely she would have beenspoken of as "good-looking." At least by the boys. And certainly Bettywas good to look upon. Her face showed her character. There was a calmthoughtfulness about it that suggested strength of mind, and yet it wasnot the type of face called "strong." It was purely girlish, and itreflected her bright and vivacious manner perfectly. How her featureslighted up when she spoke--or listened--her friends well knew. Her eyesseemed always to be dancing with fun, yet they could look calmly attrouble, too.

  And when Betty Nelson looked at trouble that same trouble seemed to meltaway--to flee as though it had no right to exist. And this not only asregarded her own troubles, but those of her friends as well. Intenselypractical was Betty, yet there was a shade of romance in her characterthat few suspected. Perhaps the other girls had so often taken theirlittle troubles to Betty, listening to her advice and sympathy, that theyforgot she might have some of her own. But, under it all, Betty had aromantic nature, that needed but a certain influence to bring it out.

  Full of life and vigor she was always ready to assume the leadership inwhatever of fun or work was at hand. Perhaps that is why she was oftencalled "The Little Captain," and certainly she deserved the name. Herfather, Charles Nelson, was a wealthy carpet manufacturer, his factorybeing just outside of Deepdale, and her mother, Rose, was one of thesociety 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 ahead with a wonderful wealth of light hair. The other girls ratherenvied Grace her hair--especially Mollie, who was a decided brunette.And, as I have said, Grace dressed to advantage. There had been a timewhen she bemoaned the fact that she was tall--"regular bean-pole" herbrother had taunted her with being--and Grace--well, she had slappedhim. But this was some years ago. But now, with the newer styles thatseem to forbid the existence of hips, and with skirts that socircumscribe the steps that fast walking is impossible, Grace fitted inperfectly. She was artistically tall and slender, which fact none knewbetter than she herself.

  But Grace was not vain. She did pose at times, but it was done naturallyand without undue thought. She just could not help it.

  Her brother Will made no end of fun about her--even at this date, butGrace had sufficient composure to ignore him now, and only smiledsweetly, remarking:

  "You only show how little you know, Billie-boy. Run along now andplay ball!"

  Then Will, trying to think of some cutting thing to say, would hasten tojoin 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 offancy dingus on it doesn't mix in right. She says it makes her look toostout, 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 boysdeparted to the ball field.

  The father of Grace and Will Ford was a lawyer with more than a localreputation. He was often called on to handle big cases of state-wideinterest, and had made a modest fortune in the practice of hisprofession.

  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 yearyounger. Yet she did not assume anything to herself by reason of thisseeming difference in years; and the difference was only seeming.

  Perhaps it was that bit of French blood making her so quick-tempered--sovivacious--so mature-appearing--that accounted for it. And it was, verylikely, that same French blood that gave her a temper which was not to beadmired, and which Mollie tried so hard to conquer. But her friends knewher failing, and readily forgave her. Besides Mollie there were thecomical twins--Dora--never called anything but Dodo--and Paul, aged four.They were always getting into mischief, and out again, and were "just toosweet and dear for anything," as Betty put it. Betty, being an onlychild, rather hungered for brothers and sisters.

  And now we come to Amy Stonington. Poor Amy! There was something of amystery about her. She realized something of it herself when she was oldenough to know that she was not in physical characteristics at all likeher parents--at least she regarded Mr. and Mrs. John Stonington as herparents. And yet she could not understand why she was not more like themin type, nor why, of late, she had often come upon them talking earnestlytogether, which talk ceased as soon as she entered the room. Inconsequence of which Amy was not very happy these days.

  Yet the most that she feared was that her parents were mapping out acareer for her. She was talented in music, playing the piano with atechnique and fire that few girls of her age could equal. More than once,after a simple concert in the
High School, at which she played, teachershad urged Mr. and Mrs. Stonington to send her to some well-known teacher,or even abroad to study.

  "But if that's what they're planning I just won't go!" said Amy toherself, after one of those queer confidences she had broken up. "I'd dieof loneliness if they sent me away."

  So much for our four girls.

  Dear Deepdale the girls always called it--Dear Deepdale! They alwaysspoke affectionately of their home town, the only residence place any ofthem had ever really known, for though some of them had lived as childrenin other places, their years, since they were old enough to appreciatelocalities, had been spent in Deepdale.

  And certainly it was a town of much natural beauty, to which a certainamount of civic pride added, had made for local enjoyment in parks,memorials and statues. Though there were only about fifteen thousandresidents, there was a spirit about Deepdale that many a fair-sized citymight have envied--a spirit of progress.

  Deepdale was situated on the Argono river, which gave a naturaladvantage, and provided a setting that could not be improved upon. Thestream ran around two sides of the place, the waters curling gracefullyaround a bend which had been laid out in a little pleasure park.

  There were some who protested against this "waste" of good and valuabledockage facilities, but the town committeemen, wisely ignoringobjections, had, at some cost, acquired the land, and made what was oneof the prettiest spots for miles around--a little breathing place on thevery edge of the beautiful river.

  Nor was the river the only attractive bit of water about Deepdale. Thestream emptied into Rainbow Lake, some miles below the town, and RainbowLake fully justified its name. It was a favorite scene of canoeing andmotor-boat parties, and many summer residences dotted its shores. Insummer white tents of campers gleamed beneath the trees on its banks.

  Situated in the lake were a number of islands, also camping sites, andmuch frequented, in summer, by little parties of young people wholanded there after a trip on the lake, to rest in the shade of the leafytrees. Triangle Island, so called from its shore outline, was thelargest of those that seemed floating on the lake, like green jewels ina setting of silver.

  Several steamers of good size plied on the Argono river, one a freightand passenger boat, belonging to a local line going as far as Clammerportat the foot of the lake. Often school society excursions were held, andthe boys and girls made merry on the trip.

  About Deepdale were several thriving farming communities, for theslightly rolling land was well suited to cultivation. The town, and theoutlying farms filled a sort of valley, girt around with hills ofsufficient size and height to be called mountains, at least by the localinhabitants who were proud of them.

  There were valleys in these mountains, some large and others merelyglens, though Shadow valley, one of the most beautiful, was only ofmedium size. It was a favorite spot for excursionists who wanted a changefrom the water route, there being a sort of summer resort and picnicground at one end of this valley.

  The other end was not so often visited. It had once formed the estate ofa very wealthy man, who built a large mansion there. But, on his death,the property was contested for in the courts by several heirs and foryears had been tied up by litigation. So the mansion became deserted.

  Of sufficient importance to have a railroad, as well as a steamer line,Deepdale was well provided with transportation facilities.

  True, the railway was only a branch one, but it connected with the mainroad running to New York, and this was enough for the people of Deepdale.The town also boasted of a paper, the _Weekly Banner_, and there was agood high and grammar school in town, besides numerous stores, and otherestablishments, including a moving picture theatre--this last rather aninnovation.

  Our girls--I call them ours, for it is with their fortunes that we shallbe chiefly concerned--our girls lived near each other on the outskirtsof the town.

  Betty and her parents occupied an old-fashioned stone house, that hadonce been the manor of a farm. But it was old-fashioned outwardly only,for within it was the embodiment of culture and comfort. It set well backfrom the street, and a lane of elms led from the front porch to thethoroughfare. Back of the house was an old-fashioned garden, likewisewell-shaded, and there were the remains of an apple orchard, some of thetrees still bearing fruit.

  On the other side of the street, and not far off, was the home ofGrace--a modern brick house of tasteful design. It had ample groundsabout it, though being rather new could not boast of such noble trees asthose that added dignity to the old stone house.

  Amy Stonington lived in a large, rambling wooden structure, too large forthe needs of the family, but artistic nevertheless. It was just aroundthe corner from the residence of Betty, and the yards of the two girlsjoined---if you can call the big orchard of Betty's home a "yard."

  Mollie's home was near the river, about ten minutes' walk from that ofthe other three girls. It was a wooden house of a dull red that mingledwell in tone with the green grass and the spreading trees thatsurrounded it.

  And now I believe I have mentioned my principal characters, and places,though others will be introduced to you from time to time as our storyprogresses.

  So on this pleasant spring day, for one of the few times, Amy was notbrooding on the subject that had given her such uneasiness of late.Nor were the other girls concerned with anything save the finding ofthe five hundred dollar bill, which absorbed everything else for thetime being.

  "Who could have lost it?" wondered Mollie.

  "There aren't so many persons in Deepdale who can afford to throw awaymoney like this," added Amy.

  "It wasn't thrown away--it was lost," declared Betty, "and we must findthe owner if we can."

  "Especially after such a pathetic message," said Grace. "Poor fellow! Hislast big bill!"

  "What makes you think it was a _man_?" asked Amy.

  "That isn't a girl's writing," insisted Grace.

  "Fine! You'll be a detective if you keep on--or should I saydetectivess?" asked Mollie, with a laugh.

  "I wonder what that note means?" inquired Mollie.

  "Why," said Betty, "it seems to indicate that some young man ranthrough a fortune--or lost it--and had only five hundred dollars left.He was going to try to redeem his standing or wealth with this, andprobably wrote this to remind himself not to fail. I used to have ahabit of leaving my room untidy, and Daddy suggested once that I writea notice to myself, and pin it where I would see it as I came out eachmorning. I did, and I cured myself. This young fellow probably triedthe same system."

  "What makes you think he is _young_?" Grace wanted to know.

  "I'm following your line of reasoning--no elderly man would doanything like this--write such a strange memorandum to himself. I'msure he is young."

  "And--good-looking?" asked Amy, smiling.

  "Let us hope so--if we are to return the money to him in person,"suggested Mollie.

  "Well, the best thing to do is to put that in some secure place, Betty,"advised Grace. "Has your father a safe at home?"

  "Yes."

  "Then let him keep it, and we can put an advertisement in the _Banner_.'Found--a sum of money. Owner can have same by proving property, andpaying for this advertisement.' How is that?"

  "Wouldn't you ask for a reward?" came from Mollie.

  "The idea--of course not!"

  "But he might _give_ us one," suggested Amy, "without being asked."

  Then talking excitedly about the find, and speculating on how it couldhave come in the road, the girls accompanied Betty to her house. Mrs.Nelson was duly astonished at the news, and agreed with the chums thatthe best plan was that suggested by Grace. Accordingly, when Mr. Nelsoncame home, the bill and the queer attached note, were put in his safe.Then an advertisement was telephoned to the paper.

  "And now let's talk about our Camping and Tramping Club," proposed Betty,for her three chums had called that evening after supper.

  "I spoke to mamma about it," said Mollie, "and she said she thought
Icould go. But we must stay with friends, or relatives, at night; shewon't let me put up at a hotel."

  "Of course not!" cried Betty--"none of us will. Now my plan is this:Papa and mamma have a number of relatives living in distant towns, butall in this vicinity. Probably you girls have some also. Now, whycouldn't we arrange a tour that would take us on a circuit say of--twohundred miles--"

  "Two hundred miles!" came in a horrified chorus.

  "Why, yes, that's not much. We can take three weeks to it, and that'sonly a little over ten miles a day--not counting Sundays, of course. Ifwe can't walk ten miles a day--"

  "Oh, that's not so bad," admitted Amy.

  "I can easily do that," assented Mollie.

  "What about our meals?" asked Grace.

  "Can't you carry enough chocolate fudge to do between morning andevening?" asked Amy, with a laugh.

  "I've got that part all planned," began Betty. "Or at least I have anidea about it. We can get breakfast and supper at our friends' orrelatives' and at noon we can go to restaurants, or to houses along theway. Why, we can even take a little camping outfit with us, and makecoffee on the road, carrying sandwiches, too."

  "Fine!" cried Amy and Mollie.

  "Make chocolate--not coffee," begged Grace.

  "Well, chocolate then," assented Betty.

  "I have a couple of aunts somewhere out Bessingford way," spoke Amy.

  "And mamma has a cousin or two near Millford," went on Grace.

  "Now, it's your turn, Mollie," said Betty.

  "Oh, I have some wood-pile relations scattered about the country!"exclaimed the French girl, her eyes sparkling. "I guess they would beglad to entertain us."

  "And I can fill in the between-spaces with uncles and aunts and cousins,I think," spoke Betty. "Now let's make out a partial list."

  It took some little time to do this, but it was finally accomplished.

  "Well, shall we decide on it?" asked Betty after a pause. "Shall we formthe Deepdale Camping and Tramping Club?"

  "I move you, Miss Chairman, that we do!" exclaimed Grace. "The soonerthe better."

  "Second the motion!" came laughingly from Mollie.

  "All in favor--"

  "Aye!" came in a joyous chorus, and the little club was thusquickly formed.