by Jean Fischer
“Are marshmallows good for bears?” Alexis asked.
“I don’t know,” Sydney said. “But they like them.”
Biscuit hopped onto the bed and wiggled next to Sydney. He stuck his nose against the window screen and sniffed. “He smells something,” Sydney whispered. “What is it, boy?”
Alexis and Sydney both sniffed the air.
“I don’t smell anything, do you?” Alexis asked.
“Just fresh air,” Sydney said. She reached over to pet Biscuit, and she noticed that his muscles were stiff. He stood at attention, focusing everything on his sense of smell. Then, he let out a low, soft growl. “Something is out there,” said Sydney. “I’m sure of it.”
Alexis climbed down from the upper bunk and lay on the bed with Sydney. With Biscuit between them, they peered out the window. The clouds had begun to break up now, and a narrow ray of moonlight cast the faintest bit of light on the grounds outside the cabin.
“I think I see something,” Alexis said. “You’re right. It looks big and hunchbacked, but I can’t tell what it is. It’s moving around by the beach. At least I think a beach is out there. Who knows in this darkness? Now it’s stopping.”
Sydney saw the shadow too. “I wish I knew exactly where we are. The cabin is pretty close to the lake. When I came back with Biscuit’s doll, the flashlight lit up the water and a picnic table. Hey, I think it’s standing by the table.”
Biscuit growled again, a low, menacing growl.
“What do you think it’s doing?” asked Alexis.
“I have an idea,” Sydney said, “I think it’s a bear. Someone left food on the table, and it’s after that. How brave are you?”
Alexis looked at her in the darkness. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to shine the flashlight out the window and see, once and for all, what’s lurking around out there.”
Biscuit shivered.
“Oh Syd, are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Alexis.
“We’re the Camp Club Girls,” Sydney answered. “Solving mysteries is what we do.” She reached over to the nightstand and got the flashlight. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“I guess so,” Alexis replied.
Sydney pointed the flashlight at the window and flipped the switch. “Oh!” she gasped.
Alexis caught her breath as Sydney turned off the flashlight and both girls ducked under the windowsill.
A man lurked outside, a big, burly man with a bushy brown beard and a ruddy complexion. He wore a floppy tan hat, khaki-colored clothing, and brown hiking boots. In one hand, he carried a long, thick walking stick. It looked bumpy—perhaps carved out of a tree branch. A huge, bulky backpack hung over his shoulders, and attached to it was a frying pan and a bedroll. The flashlight startled him. He grabbed something from the picnic table and ran off toward the woods.
Biscuit was barking wildly when Aunt Dee rushed into their room.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Someone is out there,” Sydney said. “A guy.”
“What do you mean, a guy?” Aunt Dee said, sounding concerned.
“I went to the car to get Biscuit’s doll, and when I was almost back to the cabin, I saw something big hurry into the woods,” said Sydney. “It looked like a bear. So Alex and I looked out the window. We shined the flashlight outside to see if we could see anything, and we saw a guy. He looked like a mountain man. He’s gone now. He ran into the woods.”
Aunt Dee climbed onto the bed and looked out the window. “Was he looking in at you?”
“No,” said Alexis. “I think we scared him. He was doing something at the picnic table when we turned on the flashlight, but we didn’t see what. He took off running that way.” She pointed.
Aunt Dee locked the window and drew the curtains closed. “Keep the window closed tonight,” she said. “And Sydney, you shouldn’t have gone out there alone to get Biscuit’s toy.”
Biscuit jumped to the floor, picked up his doll, and scampered out of the room.
“The ceiling fan should keep you cool enough,” said Aunt Dee. “In the morning, we’ll have a better idea of who and what you saw.”
“It is morning!” said Sydney.
“I know.” Aunt Dee sighed. “And we should all be asleep.” She flipped on the ceiling fan and left the room, closing the girls’ door but leaving just enough room for Biscuit to go in and out.
Alexis climbed the ladder to the upper bunk. “What do you think he was up to?” she asked.
“Beats me,” said Sydney. “I think maybe he’s camping in the woods or something. His clothes looked dirty and worn, and did you notice the bedroll?”
“I did,” Alexis answered. “And the frying pan too. Obviously, he’s a camper. I’m just glad we saw a person out there instead of a big grizzly bear. A camper guy I can handle, but not a bear that wants to make a snack out of my arms or legs.”
Sydney laughed. “Oh Alex, what’s gotten into you? You’re usually so positive.”
“Not when it comes to bears,” Alex said. “Unless, of course, they’re in a zoo. Then I think they’re cute and cuddly.”
Sydney rolled onto her side and adjusted the pillow under her head. “Well, I feel safe here with the window shut and the doors to the cabin locked. Tomorrow we can look for evidence and maybe find out what our mountain man was up to. Goodnight, Alex.”
“Goodnight, Syd,” Alexis said. “And by the way, Wisconsin doesn’t have any mountains.”
“I know,” Sydney said, sleepily. “But still, he looked like a mountain man.”
In the morning, the girls awoke to the sound of sausages sizzling in a frying pan. Aunt Dee was in the kitchen making a big country-style breakfast. She was already dressed in her park ranger uniform, and when the girls came to the kitchen table still in their pj’s, she scooped scrambled eggs onto their plates. “Help yourselves to some pancakes,” she said. “The sausages are almost ready. I was just about to come in and wake you guys up.”
Sydney yawned and put several pancakes on her plate. “Thanks for making breakfast, Aunt Dee,” she said. “I’m hungry enough to eat a bear.” She looked at Alexis and grinned.
“I’m not that hungry,” Alexis said. “But I am hungry enough to eat pancakes. Thanks, Miss Powers. This is great.”
Aunt Dee carried the frying pan to the table and put two sausages on each of their plates. “You’re welcome,” she said. “You can make supper tonight.”
She set the frying pan in the sink and sat down at the table. Before they ate, they thanked God for their food.
“So, did you sleep well?” Aunt Dee asked.
“Sort of,” Alexis answered.
“Me too, sort of,” Sydney added. “I dreamed about that guy we saw. Why are the drapes all shut?”
“I haven’t had time to open them yet,” Aunt Dee told her. “As soon as I woke up, I dressed and started breakfast. I have to leave in a few minutes for my interview.”
Sydney got up and walked into the small living room. She pulled the cord that opened the drapes on the big picture window. Bright sunlight flooded the room.
Beyond the screened porch, Sydney saw a grassy front yard. It led down a gentle slope to the lake, which was only a short distance from the cabin’s front door. A very narrow strip of sandy beach stretched along the water’s edge, and an aluminum rowboat lay there upside down. The water glistened in the sunlight, and a pair of ducks floated on the surface near a long, wooden dock.
“This is cool!” Sydney said. “We’re closer to the water than I thought.” She went back to the table and continued eating her breakfast.
“I’m sure you’ll find plenty to do,” Aunt Dee said. “The resort brochure tells about swimming, fishing, and rowing. A small grocery store is within walking distance—and also an ice cream and coffee shop with video games and internet access.”
“Great!” said Alexis. “Then we can email our friends.”
Sydney knew that Alexis referred to the other Camp Club Gir
ls—Bailey Chang, Kate Oliver, Elizabeth Anderson, and McKenzie Phillips. Kate, the technological one, had set up a web page with a chat room. When they weren’t at camp and since they lived in different parts of the country, it was like their own private cabin in cyberspace.
“We’ll email them later,” Sydney said. “We can tell them about the mountain man.”
“And almost hitting a deer, and the skunk, and the coyote,” said Alexis, before taking the last bite of her scrambled eggs.
“Maybe we should leave out the wild animals part,” Sydney suggested between sips of orange juice from a red, plastic cup. “Kate might worry about Biscuit.”
“You’re right,” said Alexis. “We’ll leave that part out.” She reached down to pat Biscuit on his head. He sat patiently at her feet, apparently hoping she would give him a bite of sausage.
Aunt Dee gathered her purse and briefcase. She nestled her tan ranger’s hat on her head and picked up her car keys. “If you need me, you know my cell phone number. And you girls stay out of trouble today,” she said. “Okay?”
“Who, us? Get into trouble?” Sydney smiled.
“Listen, girlfriend,” said Aunt Dee. “I haven’t forgotten that you and Elizabeth got mixed up in an assassination plot to kill the president. I still have gray hairs from that little adventure.”
She meant the time when Sydney and Elizabeth followed some thugs who planned to set off a bomb at Fort McHenry. Sydney saved the president’s life when she grabbed the bomb and dumped it into Baltimore Harbor. An event they’d dubbed Sydney’s DC Discovery.
“We’ll be fine,” Sydney promised.
Aunt Dee waved and went out the door.
The girls cleaned the table, washed the dishes, and made sure Biscuit had food and water.
“So, what do you want to do now?” Alexis asked after they got dressed.
“I don’t know,” said Sydney. “Let’s go outside.”
They put Biscuit on the big, screened porch. Then Sydney locked the door and stuck the key in the pocket of her gray sweatpants. “Let’s see if the mountain man left us any clues.”
The other visitors weren’t up yet, and the lake was quiet. Chipmunks scampered about looking for scraps of food, seeds, and other treats. Birds scurried from the ground to the trees, feeding their babies in well-hidden nests. The girls walked to the picnic table where they’d seen the man the night before. The rickety old table held nothing more than a small pile of peanuts, obviously left by some well-meaning guest who wanted to feed the animals.
“Maybe that’s what he was doing,” Sydney said. “Leaving food for the critters.”
She tossed a peanut on the ground. Instantly a chipmunk skittered over and popped the whole thing into its cheek. Alexis tossed another one. The girls took turns tossing peanuts until the whole pile was gone.
“I don’t like the idea of someone putting food out at night,” said Alexis. “It might attract bears.” She sat down on the picnic bench. “Ouch!” She jumped up, rubbing her behind.
“What’s wrong?” asked Sydney.
“I sat on something sharp.” Alexis checked out the spot where she’d sat. “Hey, look. What are these things?”
Three tiny bunches of brightly colored feathers lay on the ground. Each bunch was gathered tightly at the bottom with a small, sharp hook tucked inside.
“Fishing flies,” said Sydney.
“Fishing what?”
“They’re fishing flies,” Sydney said. She picked one up and held it in her hand. “When you go fishing, you put one of these on the end of your line. When the little fishies see the colorful feathers swimming under the water, they bite. That’s how you catch a fish.”
“How do you know this stuff?” Alexis asked.
“My aunt’s a park ranger,” Sydney said. “I’ve been fishing lots of times.”
“Hey! What are you doing with my fly?” A short, skinny, redheaded boy marched over to the picnic table. “Give it to me.” He held out his hand.
Gently, Sydney placed the fly in the palm of his hand. She pointed to the others on the ground. “There’s more,” she said.
The boy bent and picked them up.
Sydney decided he was about the same age as she and Alexis. “Are you staying here?” Sydney asked. “We just got in last night, and we’re in Cabin One. I’m Sydney, and this is Alex.”
The boy scowled. “We’re in Cabin Two. I need these for the fishing contest. Alex? What kind of name is that for a girl?”
“It’s short for Alexis,” Alex told him. She already sensed trouble. Nothing about this boy was friendly.
“And what’s your name?” Sydney asked.
“Duncan,” he answered sharply.
“So what about this fishing contest, Duncan?” Sydney wondered.
“What about it?” Duncan checked the flies to make sure they weren’t broken.
“You said something about a fishing contest,” Sydney said. “I always like a good contest, and maybe I want to sign up.”
“You can’t. Girls don’t fish,” Duncan said matter-of-factly.
Sydney got that expression on her face, the one Alexis recognized as determination. No one, absolutely no one, ever told Sydney Lincoln that she couldn’t compete. She lived for competition.
“Oh yes, girls do fish!” Sydney told him. “Where do I sign up?”
Duncan looked at her. The corner of his mouth turned up in a sly smile. Then he shook his head back and forth, uttered a wicked little laugh, and walked away.
“Ooooo!” Sydney said under her breath. “I don’t like him. Girls can’t fish! Who does he think he is? I’m going to find out where to sign up for that contest, and you just watch. I’m going to win that contest if it’s the last thing I do!” She sighed with exasperation.
“‘A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger,’” said Alexis. “It’s in the Bible. Proverbs 15:1.”
“You sound like Elizabeth,” said Sydney. Elizabeth knew an amazing amount of scriptures. “But I’m not angry,” Sydney continued. “I’m just frustrated because he thinks girls can’t fish, or shouldn’t fish, or whatever. Let’s go to the office and find out where to sign up.” She headed toward the cabins.
“Hey,” said Alexis. “What’s this?” She picked up a paperback book from the grass: Field Guide to Mushrooms.
“Keep it,” Sydney said. “It might belong to the mountain man.”
“And look,” Alexis said. “The bottom of the rowboat is covered in wet seaweed, and the squishy mud has big footprints in it. And what are these things?” She pointed to pieces of brown, slimy fungus at the edge of the beach.
“I dunno. We’ll check it out later,” said Sydney. “Right now, my mind’s on that contest.”
Northern Lights
Mrs. Miller sat behind the registration desk drinking a cup of coffee. “Good morning, girls,” she said when Sydney and Alexis entered the office. “You’re up bright and early.”
“Hi,” said Sydney. “I have a question. Where do I sign up for the fishing contest?”
“Which one?” Mrs. Miller asked. She opened a bakery box filled with donuts and offered them to the girls.
“No thanks,” Sydney said as Alexis grabbed a crème-filled, chocolate-covered long boy. “There’s more than one contest?”
Alexis kept busy studying a map of the lake hanging on the wall.
“There’s always fishing contests on North Twin Lake,” said Mrs. Miller. “Here’s a list of our current ones.” She handed Sydney a flyer.
FISHING CONTESTS
AUGUST 2 THROUGH 9
OFF SHORE: BIGGEST FISH—PRIZE $200 AND 50% OFF TAXIDERMIST SERVICES AT SCALE AND HIDE TAXIDERMY IN EAGLE RIVER DOCKSIDE: BIGGEST FISH—PRIZE: $100 AND FREE ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT FISH FRY AT CLIFF’S BOATHOUSE CAFÉ IN CONOVER
“The kid in Cabin Two, Duncan,” said Sydney. “Which contest did he sign up for?”
“He probably signed up for the dockside contest,” Mrs. Miller answered. “Chi
ldren under 13 can only compete in offshore if they’re with an adult.”
Alexis walked to the desk and helped herself to another chocolate-covered donut.
“Okay, I want to sign up for dockside,” said Sydney. “And Alexis does too.”
“I do?” said Alex, licking chocolate frosting from her fingers.
Mrs. Miller smiled. “Not a fisherman, are you?” she asked.
“I’ve fished a little,” said Alexis, “but I’ve never fished in a contest.”
“Well, you girls go up there to the end of the drive. Then you turn left and walk down the road a bit. You’ll see Tompkins’ Ice Cream Shop. Go inside there, and that’s where you sign up. You sure you don’t want a donut?” Mrs. Miller slid the box toward Sydney.
“No thank you,” Sydney said again. “Come on, Alex. Let’s go sign up.”
The girls got Biscuit from the cabin, and Alexis made sure his leash was firmly fastened to his collar. Then the three of them headed up the drive toward the road.
Soon they came to a gas station and a row of quaint little shops. Tompkins’ Ice Cream was the first two-story building on the left. A red-striped awning hung over the wide front window, and a sign in the window said:
COFFEE, REGULAR AND SPECIALTY
MUFFINS, SCONES, AND OTHER SWEETS
ICE CREAM AND FREE INTERNET ACCESS
OPEN EVERY DAY 8 TO 8
The girls opened the door and went inside.
Four small tables sat in the middle of the shop, and three huge, wooden booths lined one wall. The opposite wall had an old-fashioned soda fountain with a lunch counter and tall stools with round, red seats. The tables and booths were empty. Several men sat at the counter drinking hot coffee out of thick, black mugs.
“No dogs allowed,” said a man wearing a white apron. He stood behind the counter writing the daily specials on a blackboard. “You can tie it to the hitch outside the front door.”
Biscuit cocked his head and raised one paw to beg. Then he raced toward the man, pulling the leash out of Sydney’s hand. He stood up with his paws against the man’s knees and wagged his tail.
