CHAPTER XX
THE VIOLINIST AGAIN
As Allen had predicted, there was a general rush on the part of theminers to establish claims on the property adjoining the ranch, and thegirls congratulated themselves over and over again that they had reachedDan Higgins with the glad tidings in time for him to secure the bestlocation.
All day long the girls were in the saddle, hovering about the new golddiggings, fascinated at the way new mines seemed to spring up overnight.
Next to those on their own property, they were most interested in DanHiggins' mine and in their hearts they would really rather have had himfind gold than to find it themselves.
"They need it so much more than we do," Betty said anxiously. "If DanHiggins and Meggy have drawn another blank I don't know what they willdo."
In the midst of all this confusion and excitement, Amy received theprogram of the benefit concert given at the Hostess House for which shehad sent home some time before. They had almost forgotten the hermit andit was with a shock of surprise that they remembered they had not seenhim since the new mining operations. Before that they had run across himquite often attempting to help Meggy and Dan in his rather eccentricway.
"Guess he must have been scared off by the crowd," said Mollie. "Toomuch excitement for the old boy."
The four of them were sitting on the large front porch of the house,still in their riding habits, while their horses, at the foot of thesteps, stamped their impatience to be off again. Nothing but the arrivalof the mail could have drawn the girls from the fascination of the newgold diggings. They hardly took time to eat; and as for sleep, well,they took that in between times!
Now Grace called to Amy, making room on the step beside her.
"Come over here and show us your program," she said, extracting a bit ofcandy from some hidden recess somewhere about her person and popping itinto her mouth. "I'm anxious to see what that violinist's name was."
Amy obeyed, and as Grace opened the program Mollie and Betty drew closerand peeped over her shoulder.
"Concerto--Liszt," read Grace, her finger pointing down the page. "No,that isn't it. That's for the piano. Hold on, here we are.Chopin--Nocturne--Paul Loup, violinist. There he is. Now will you pleasetell me how that helps us to find out anything about the hermit?" Shepaused with her finger still pointing to the name and looked up at theminquiringly.
"We-el," said Betty thoughtfully, "it doesn't help very much, I mustadmit. It doesn't prove that Paul Loup is our Hermit of Gold Run. Onlythat funny feeling I have of having seen him before and heard himplay----"
"I tell you what we'll do!" Mollie snapped her fingers decisively. "It'sa long chance and it may not work at all but--are you game to try it?"She paused and regarded the expectant girls eagerly.
"Maybe," said Betty, noncommittally. "You might tell us the idea first."
"Listen," cried Mollie. "My idea is that if we take the hermit bysurprise, call him by his name of Paul Loup. Why--" She paused, and thelight of inspiration filled her eyes. "I could even speak to him inFrench----"
As the girls caught her full meaning they looked at her admiringly.
"I shouldn't wonder if that plan would work," said Betty swiftly. "Whycan't we go now? Dinner won't be ready for a couple of hours."
"Right you are," cried Mollie, taking the four steps at one jump andspringing upon her astonished horse. "Come on, girls, are you with us?"
"We'll have to lead 'em a merry pace," said Betty to Mollie a momentlater as they galloped abreast up the road. "If we don't get them therein a hurry they're apt to get cold feet and think we're crazy."
"Maybe we are," chuckled Mollie, urging Old Nick on to even greaterspeed. "I've had a suspicion that way several times before."
It was Betty's turn to chuckle.
"So have I!" she said, adding with a sigh of resignation: "But oh, it isso much fun. Look behind, Mollie. Are they still coming?"
"Strong," reported Mollie, with a glance over her shoulder. Then, asthey reached the trail that led through the woods, she reined in alittle, motioning for Betty to take the lead. "You know the trailbetter," she said.
Over the rough woodland trail their progress necessarily became slower,a fact which the girls did not relish at all. It gave them time toreflect on what a really rash adventure they had embarked, and any butthe Outdoor Girls might have turned back even at this last minute.
However, curiosity, together with some vague hope that they might becomeof service to this strange sad fellow, urged them on. If Paul Loup andthe Hermit of Gold Run were really one and the same person, then surelythere was a real mystery which they might in some way help to unravel.
They did not linger any longer on the way than was absolutely necessary,for the terrible experience they had had with the timber wolves soonafter their arrival had made them suspicious of the forest, and try asthey would they could not suppress an uncomfortable desire to searchevery shadow for some sinister, lurking presence.
In vain had the cowboys on the ranch assured them that wolves were veryscarce in this part of the forest, especially in the summer, and thatthey had had an unusual and unique experience. As Amy had said, oneexperience like that was enough to last a lifetime.
They came in sight of the cabin without mishap, however, and theytethered their horses a little farther from the house than usual, sothat their stamping and neighing might not frighten the hermit away.
Then they made their way with as little noise as possible along thenarrow path.
"Suppose he isn't at home?" whispered Mollie to Betty.
"Then we're out of luck, that's all," returned Betty cheerfully.
But the hermit was at home. They could see him moving about, and as theycame nearer they smelled an appetizing odor of frying bacon, as thoughhe were cooking his dinner.
"Hope he asks us to stay to lunch," said Grace, and the girls gigglednervously.
"We'll be lucky if he doesn't slam the door in our faces," said Amypessimistically.
It was Mollie who knocked this time--and it was no timid little rapeither, but a good, hearty rat-at-tat, that brought the occupant of thecabin to the door in a hurry. He had the frying pan still clutched inhis hand and on his long narrow face was such a look of dread that thegirls felt sorry for him.
"Well," he said, the emotion within him making his voice sound stern andforbidding, "what is it you wish? It is not raining to-day as it wasthat other time." He gazed significantly up at the cloudless sky seen inlittle blue patches through the trees, and the girls flushed, partlyfrom embarrassment and partly from anger. Somehow, they had not beenprepared to have him take this attitude, and they resented it.
For a moment they stood miserably tongue-tied. Even their usuallyquick-witted Little Captain seemed suddenly to have been strickenspeechless. They were just about to turn and run when Mollie saved theday for them.
Pushing forward through the group she confronted the man on the doorstep.
"_Vous etes Paul Loup, n'est-ce pas, monsieur?_" she said in a clearvoice, gazing up at him fearlessly.
While the girls gasped at her temerity a most astounding thing happened.The man dropped the frying pan and it clattered to the floor, itscontents spilling out greasily. While they looked he seemed to crumple,shrivel, and his eyes stared at them glassily out of his white mask of aface.
"_Mon Dieu!_" he cried hoarsely, staggering back into the shack. "Youhave found me! But I swear to you I did not kill him. _Mon Dieu_, Icould not kill my brother!"
The Outdoor Girls in the Saddle; Or, The Girl Miner of Gold Run Page 21
