CHAPTER III AN UNINVITED GUEST
Rain fell in torrents on the roof of the hospitable House of the OpenDoor, and the wind howled dismally around its friendly gables. Inside the"lofty loft" of the Winnebagos the fire shone brightly on the hearth andthe rafters rang with merriment. Sahwah had a new hobby, and was ridingit to death. This was a Hawaiian guitar, known as a "ukelele," from whichshe was producing a series of hair-raising noises.
"Sounds like a cat in its last agony," remarked Hinpoha.
"Well, that just suits me," replied Sahwah, undisturbed, drawing a longshivering wail from the strings. "I am the cat that walks by himself----"
"And all racket is alike to you," finished Hinpoha. "Who's getting suppertonight, Nyoda? I'm nearly starving."
"I appointed Gladys and Veronica," answered Nyoda. "The combination ofblonde and brunette ought to produce something pretty good."
Gladys promptly laid down the bit of leather in which she was cutting apattern and moved toward the "kitchen end" of the Lodge. "Come on,Veronica," she said, "let's make a carload of scones for these hungrywolves."
Veronica looked up at her without moving. On her face was an expressionof surprise; almost amazement. "What, _I_ cook?" she asked scornfully."That is for servants to do!"
Then it was the Winnebagos' turn to look amazed. Sahwah dropped herinstrument on the floor with a clatter, and the rest sat silent, notknowing what to say to Veronica. Nyoda bridged over the embarrassingsituation as best she could. "I'll be cook tonight," she said quietly. Asshe moved about helping Gladys she thought and thought how this newproblem must be met. "It's the fault of her training," she told herself,"and she really isn't a snob at heart. She'll be all right when she hasbeen with the girls awhile and watched them. It won't do to insist on herdoing the things she considers beneath her. She must be made to want todo them first. But we'll make a real Winnebago of her in time!" And hereyes strayed thoughtfully over to the corner of the hearth where Veronicasat, a little apart from the rest, her brooding eyes on the fire, hersensitive lip twisting into involuntary shivers of disgust when Sahwahproduced a particularly ear-splitting yowl.
"Hear and attend and listen, everybody," said Nyoda when the butteredscones had been reduced to crumbs. "I have been doing some importantresearch work lately and am now ready to present the result of myinvestigations."
"What are you talking about?" asked Hinpoha curiously.
"Two weeks ago tonight," continued Nyoda, "our meeting was broken up by aband of young braves bearing the appetizing title of 'The Sandwich Club,'who implored us to let them come and play with us in our Lodge and belodgers--kindly overlook the pun; it was quite unintentional--providingwe weighed them in the balance and found them not wanting."
"Is there any scale on which 'Slim' would be found wanting?" giggledSahwah,
"I have spent the last two weeks obtaining information," resumed Nyoda,"which I am happy to report is of a highly satisfactory nature. So, allthings considered, and in spite of the informality of the request, Ihumbly recommend that the aforesaid braves be allowed to lodge in thebottom half of our Lodge at any and all times they may so desire. I mightadd that I have already obtained the consent of our Bountiful Benefactor,Gladys' papa. All in favor of letting in the Sandwich Club say 'Aye.'"
There was a perfect shout of "Ayes," followed by a ringing cheer.
"When are they going to take possession?" Sahwah wanted to know.
"I'm to tell them tomorrow what your decision was," replied Nyoda. "Itbeing Saturday, I suppose they will be down in a body to fix up accordingto their own ideas."
"What will the interior of a Sandwich Club look like, I wonder?" saidGladys.
"Hark, what was that noise?" asked Nyoda abruptly. The girls listenedintently. From the lower floor of the barn there came a thumping noise,followed by a subdued crash.
"Somebody's in the barn," said Hinpoha in a frightened whisper.
The sound came again, thump, thump, and a noise as of a box being shovedaside. "It's a burglar!" said Sahwah, and Nakwisi gave a frightenedsqueak which Sahwah stifled with a sofa cushion.
"There's nothing in here to steal," said Nyoda. "Perhaps it's a tramp."Again came the noise from below. Leaving the curtain drawn over theopening, Nyoda went to the top of the ladder and called down, "Who'sthere?" There was no answer but another thump. "We have a gun," saidNyoda coolly, taking Sahwah's little rifle down from the wall, "and ifyou put one foot on the ladder I'll shoot." Still no answer.
"I'm going down to investigate," said Nyoda. "This is growing uncanny."
"Don't go down," begged the girls, clinging to her, "something dreadfulwill happen to you."
"If you go I'm going with you," declared Sahwah when Nyoda appeareddetermined to rush into the jaws of danger. Nyoda threw aside the curtainand flashed her bug light on the floor below. Nothing was visible withinthe radius of the light, but over in the far corner where the old horsestall was something was moving and thumping about and a sound like agroan came from the darkness.
"Somebody's hurt," said Nyoda, hastening down the ladder. "Bring alantern with you, Sahwah."
Together they moved toward the corner while the girls above crowdedaround the opening and watched in breathless suspense. The light revealeda small donkey lying on the floor of the stall. He was kicking out withhis hind feet against the partition wall and it was this sound that hadfrightened the girls above. At Sahwah's shout the others came hurryingdown to behold the find. The donkey made no effort to rise and looked atthe faces around him with an imploring look in his eyes as if to say,"Help me, I'm in trouble."
"What's the matter, old chap?" asked Nyoda, kneeling down beside him. Thedonkey answered with a distressed bray that was more like a groan andpawed the air with his front feet, which seemed to be fastened togetherin some manner. Nyoda turned the lantern around so the light felldirectly on him and then they saw what the matter was. A length of barbedwire had become tangled around his front legs, binding them together, andhis frantic efforts to get it off had resulted in its becoming deeplyimbedded in the flesh, lacerating it badly. The girls shuddered when theysaw it and drew back.
"This won't do, girls," said Nyoda firmly; "we've got to get that wireoff the poor animal's leg. Medmangi, have you the nerve to do it? I'mafraid I can't."
"His hind legs would have to be tied together first, so he can't kick,"said Medmangi. The girls looked at each other and all drew back. All butVeronica. She came forward quietly and took the rope which the otherswere afraid to use and skilfully slipped a noose over the tiny heels andfastened them down to a ring in the floor.
"I have done it before, when a horse was sick," she explained in responseto the girls' expressions of amazement at the neat performance. Thegirls' liking for her, which had suffered a sudden chill at the cookingepisode, warmed again, and they were inclined to overlook that now thatshe had stepped so neatly into the breach when they were helpless.
Then Medmangi, the Medicine Man Girl who was going to be a doctor, andhad no horror of surgery, bent calmly to her task while the others heldthe lantern for her. Quickly and skilfully she worked, removing the cruelpoints as gently as possible. Then she washed the wounds with anantiseptic solution from the First Aid Cabinet upstairs and bound them upwith clean bandages. Then Veronica took the rope from the donkey's hindlegs and he struggled to his feet, plainly delighted to find his frontlegs in working order again in spite of the pain. He looked at the girlswith a dog-like devotion in his intelligent eyes and when Medmangi pattedhim soothingly he laid his head on her shoulder affectionately. "My firstlover--a donkey!" she said laughingly.
"Poor little mule," said Hinpoha, stroking him from the other side. "Heknew the right place to come to all right. 'Whose house is bare and darkand cold, whose house is cold, this is his own,'" she quoteddramatically. "We certainly have succeeded in creating the rightatmosphere of hospitality if even a lonely donkey can feel it and comestraight to our 'Open Portals!'"
"Now that he has come," said Nyoda, rather puzzled, "the question is whatto do with him. If he goes wandering off again he'll have those bandagesoff in no time--he probably will anyhow--and his legs will get so sore hewill have to be shot. He undoubtedly belongs to somebody--very likelysome children's pet--and I think we had better keep him right here in thebarn until we find the owner. The boys will have to postpone their takingpossession in favor of the other donkey if his presence interferes withtheir activities." Here the "other donkey" leaned against the wall insuch a pathetic attitude, as if his weight were too much for his sorelegs, that if they had had any intentions of turning him out into therain they would have speedily relented.
"It's a good thing this old stall is still here," said Gladys. "Thereisn't any straw, but there is a box of excelsior and we can spread thatout and cover it with a blanket and make him a soft bed. We can give himwater tonight and bring food in the morning."
"And I'll telephone the Sandwiches about him," said Nyoda, "so if theyare coming over tomorrow they won't turn him out."
But that telephone message was unnecessary, for at that moment a numberof dark figures appeared in the doorway and after a moment of hesitation,entered.
"Why, here are the Sandwiches," exclaimed Nyoda cordially, advancing withextended hand. "We were just talking about you. Speaking of angels--youknow the rest."
"We were just going by," said the Captain (it was likely that they were"just going by" that out of the way place in the rain!) "and saw yourlight now you've left the windows uncovered, and thought we'd just stepin and inquire our fate. We just couldn't wait until tomorrow," hefinished in a boyish outburst. "Is it going to be the Open Door for us?"
"Bless you, yes," said Nyoda, smiling reassuringly at this manly lad whowas already her favorite, "there wasn't a dissenting vote in the jurybox. We----" but the remainder of her sentence was drowned in anear-splitting cheer that was decidedly less musical than the Winnebagocheers, but none the less hearty.
"Pedigrees satisfactory, and all that?" inquired the Captain.
"Perfect," answered Nyoda with twinkling eyes. "I've dug up more factsabout you than you know yourselves. So," she added demurely, "if you'restill minded to 'know us better,' as you flatteringly remarked on theoccasion of our first meeting, why, we're perfectly willing to be known.
"But you can't take immediate possession of your club room because we'verented it temporarily to another don--another fellow," she saidmischievously, turning the light of the lantern away from the stall wherethe donkey was. The boys' eager faces fell a trifle.
"Of course," they answered politely, "that's your privilege."
"He's a very nice chap," pursued Nyoda, with a warning glance at thegirls behind her, who were stuffing their handkerchiefs into their mouthsin an effort not to laugh.
"Yes," assented the boys without enthusiasm.
"Is it anyone we know?" asked the Captain politely, trying to makeconversation after a moment of silence.
"Maybe you do know him," answered Nyoda. "He's here tonight. Would youlike to meet him?"
She led the way to the stall and turned the light on the donkey. Therewas a moment of surprised silence, followed by a perfect explosion oflaughter. "Where'd you get the donkey with the trousers on?" squeakedSlim in his high thin voice. In the dim light of the lantern the bandageson the donkey's front legs looked like a pair of trousers. Then thegirls, after their laugh was out, explained about the visitor who hadcome to them from out of the vast, and the Sandwiches declared that theydid not in the least mind sharing their club room with a needy donkey,and offered to relieve the girls of the entire care of him, besidestrying to find the owner.
They were as good as their word about taking care of him, but the weeksslipped by and no amount of advertising produced anything in the shape ofan owner.
"We'll have to adopt him," the Winnebagos decided. "A Camp Fire Donkeysounds thrilling to me," said Sahwah. "Think of all the fun we'll havewith him. As long as the boys don't mind, we can keep him right here inthe stall."
"What shall we name him?" asked Gladys.
"Call him 'Wohelo,'" advised Hinpoha. "It was the spirit of Wohelo thatled him to us. From now on he'll be a symbolic donkey."
"But where do we come in on this?" inquired the Captain. "We take care ofhim and he lives in our house."
"That's right," said Hinpoha. "Then let's call him 'Sandwich-Wohelo,'contracted to 'Sandhelo.'" And "Sandhelo" he was until the end of thechapter. His sore legs became very stiff until they were healed and hehobbled painfully when he walked at all, which was very seldom. But thescratches healed at last and the day came when Medmangi took off thebandages for good, and led him around the barn for exercise.
Then an amazing thing happened. Sahwah was upstairs in the Lodge, amusingherself with a mouth organ she had just discovered in the depths of herbed. But she had no sooner blown half a dozen notes when Sandhelo jerkedup his head, pulling the bridle out of Medmangi's hands, and rose up onhis hind legs. Then he walked on his hind legs over to a box, climbed upon it and sat there with his feet in the air, like a dog sitting up.Medmangi screamed and brought the Winnebagos flying from all directions,to behold the marvel in open-mouthed astonishment.
"He's a trick mule!" shouted Sahwah, tumbling down the ladder in herexcitement and never stopping to pick herself up. "Now I know where hecame from. He was with that dog and pony show that was in town a fewweeks ago. He must have strayed from the show and got left behind. Hatsoff to the newest member of the Winnebago group! We certainly do have away of attracting all the best talent in town to our ranks!"
The Camp Fire Girls' Larks and Pranks; Or, The House of the Open Door Page 3
