A KNOCK AT THE DOOR
The moon had come up over the tree-tops before Miss Sallie, with Ruth,
Bab and Grace returned from their visit to Mr. Winthrop Latham.
"Well, you certainly have missed it, this time, Miss Mollie!" cried Bab,
running into the room where Mollie sat reading. "We have had the most
wonderful time, and met the most charming people. I never saw anything so
beautiful as the village of Lenox. We had a splendid view of it from the
tower in Mr. Latham's house. Lenox is called a village of seventy hills,
but I am sure we counted more than seventy."
"I am truly sorry you were not with us, Mollie," declared Miss Sallie,
coming into the house with the other two girls. "But you will have plenty
of opportunity for seeing what we did later on. It will not be long now,
before we shall go down in the town to stay. Did you have a nice, quiet
time by yourself?" Mollie felt embarrassed. She had hardly been alone.
But the other girls did not give her an opportunity to answer.
"Mollie, we have the finest plan!" Ruth broke in. "We are going to have a
coon hunt up on the hill. Mr. Latham says it is just the thing to do on
these early autumn nights. All the people we met at his house this
afternoon are to come up to supper with us to-morrow evening. Afterwards,
we are to start out after Br'er Possum and Br'er Coon. Won't it be a
jolly lark?"
"I don't approve of it, Ruth," said Miss Sallie. "I am sure young girls
never before took part in such an excursion. I shouldn't allow it, except
that Mr. Latham and his sister both assured me it was done by the best
people in Lenox. Then the English ambassador's daughters are to join
you."
Ruth looked solemnly at Bab and Grace. The girls were secretly amused at
Miss Sallie's social ambitions.
"Mollie," Ruth explained, "we did meet two such nice English girls this
afternoon--Gwendolin and Dorothy Morton--and an awfully funny, little
man, a secretary at the German embassy. They say that ambassadors are as
common in Lenox, in the season, as millionaires!"
"Did you like Reginald Latham to-day, Bab?" Mollie inquired, as the two
sisters walked into their bedroom together.
"Why, yes," admitted Bab. "I liked him as usual. He is a peaceable kind
of man, but rather queer. He is too learned for me. His mother seems
terribly vain of him. She does nothing but talk about his inventive
skill. I believe she encourages the airship business just to get on the
good side of his uncle. Mr. Winthrop Latham is simply crazy on the
subject and does not seem to care about anything else. And he must have a
tremendous lot of money. But Mrs. Latham, the German sister-in-law, as
good as told Aunt Sallie she and her son were dreadfully poor. They had
always been obliged to live on the income Mr. Winthrop Latham allowed
them, since her husband lost his money. But I shouldn't think she and her
son need worry; Reginald assured me that he was his uncle's only heir."
"Bab," Grace asked, joining the two sisters, "why did you spend so much
time out in that shed looking at airship models? You know you did not
understand them in the least; but our host and his blessed nephew were
certainly pleased at your interest. Mrs. Latham showed Aunt Sallie and
Ruth and me over the house. They have an art gallery and rooms full of
curios, just like a museum. The house is a perfect palace."
"There was an older Mr. Latham once!" Ruth announced, sticking her head
in from the door of her bedroom to join in the conversation. "But I don't
think he was a credit to the family. They are silent about him. I asked
one of the girls we met this afternoon if Mr. Winthrop Latham and his
nephew were all of the Latham family. Just as she started to tell me,
Reginald Latham came up to us, and she stopped talking in a hurry."
"Miss Ruth Stuart, I believe I was talking," interrupted Grace severely.
"Kindly allow me the floor! Mollie is most certainly not interested in
the Latham family history. Who is? Nor does she care a fig for Mr.
Reginald Latham and his toy balloons. But, Mollie, I was endeavoring to
tell you about the wonderful curios they have in their house. The late
lamented brother, we were informed, has left behind him one of the most
famous collection of Indian relics in the world. If I am obliged to
mention the stupid subject of family history, I must say that the Lathams
are an old family up in this part of the country. They do not belong to
the 'newly rich.' The queer elder brother devoted his life to the study
of the history of the Indians in this part of the world, and has written
a book about them."
"Grace, have you finished making your speech?" inquired Ruth, with mock
politeness. "Poor Mollie must be bored stiff with all this useless
information. How did you spend the afternoon, dear? We have talked so
much about coon hunts and Indian relics and the Lathams that you have had
no chance to answer."
"Oh, I took a nap!" responded Mollie, vaguely, and led the way into
supper.
Late that evening, as the girls sat by the fire, they heard a sudden
knocking at their cabin door. Miss Sallie, who was in bed, bounded out
again. For the first time since their arrival in the woods the camping
party was alone. Naki had been obliged to go down the hill on an errand.
No one had dreamed of any possible danger in his absence.
The knocking continued. "Open! Open!" cried the voices of two men.
"Who on earth can they be?" Grace asked of the circle of girls. No one
answered. Ceally came hurriedly in from the kitchen. Miss Sallie stood at
her door.
The knocks were repeated in quick succession.
Ceally had taken the precaution, earlier in the evening, to close and
bolt all the doors and windows except one. The shutters of this were open
on the outside.
"Sh-sh!" whispered Bab, creeping on tiptoes to the window. Before their
front door, she could dimly outline the figures of two men, who were
evidently arguing and protesting about something.
"Open! Open!" cried the voices again. "We are friends, and will do you no
harm."
"Then go away at once!" Miss Sallie commanded.
There was a muffled sound outside the door. Could it be laughter? Then a
voice called more roughly. "How long must we wait?"
Ruth and Bab looked at each other blankly. Miss Stuart had gone back into
her own room. "What on earth shall we do? Shall we open the door?" Ruth
inquired.
Mollie and Grace both shook their heads.
"Ruth," whispered Barbara resourcefully, "your rifle is behind that door,
and Naki's big shotgun is next to it. Of course, we don't know how to
shoot either one of the guns very well at present, but, if you will hold
your rifle pointed toward the door, I shall try to shoulder this heavy
shotgun. Oh, I have a splendid idea!"
"Out with it, child!" ordered Ruth. "I believe the knocking on the door
will keep up all night, unless we open it."
"Who's there?" inquired Grace, timidly, before Bab could answer.
"Friends!" responded the men on the outside.
Barbara motioned silence. "Listen to me," she said. "We have no way of
knowing if those men on the outside are friends, whatever they may say.
Here is my scheme! Remember the story of the women in a town near here,
who once defended their fort against an attack by the Indians, when the
men were all away at work in the cornfields? The women dressed up in
their husbands' clothes and frightened the Indians away. Ruth, let's
disguise ourselves as men and then let Ceally open the door."
"Bab, you and Ruth are both crazy!" protested Mollie, half-laughing, and
half-frightened.
Bang! Bang! The blows on the door were tremendous. "If you don't let us
in, you'll be sorry!" called one of the men.
Bab had already found an old hat of Naki's conveniently near. Ceally, who
was giggling nervously, produced a hunting jacket of her husband's, which
had seen much service. It was not clean, but Bab slipped into it,
determined to see her plan through.
Nor was Barbara the only hero. While she was making her extraordinary
costume, Ruth had torn down a squirrel skin, which some previous hunter
had tacked on their cabin wall and twisted it around her head so that the
tail hung down to one side. Then she slipped on her own leather coat,
which she gave a more dilapidated appearance, by wearing it wrong side
out.
Both girls got behind chairs to hide their skirts.
"Good gracious, Ruth!" giggled Bab, in spite of her excitement. "You look
like Daniel Boone."
During their preparation not a word was heard from Miss Sallie, who was
closeted in her own room.
"Ceally, open the door!" cried Ruth, raising her rifle and leveling it in
front of her.
Bab put her elbow on the back of her chair to steady her shotgun.
"Girls!" cried Miss Stuart, unexpectedly. "Don't dare to open that door!"
But she spoke too late. Ceally had already drawn the heavy bolt back and
the door swung aside.
There rushed into the room two men--or to be strictly truthful, two boys.
They looked first at Mollie and Grace, then at Ruth and Bab. Without a
word they dropped into two chairs.
"Oh, oh, oh!" they shouted. "Did you ever see anything in the world so
funny? Ralph, look at Ruth!" cried Hugh.
"Ralph Ewing and Hugh Post, where did you come from?" demanded four
girls' voices together. "We took you for highwaymen."
Bab set down her shotgun and Ruth her rifle. Both girls began pulling off
their masculine disguises.
"Don't take off those terrifying garments, Bab!" cried Ralph Ewing. "You,
Ruth, should have your picture taken in that hat."
By this time, Miss Stuart, fully dressed, with her pompadour neatly
arranged appeared at the door. Highwaymen or no highwaymen, Miss Sallie
had no intention of appearing before strange men without being properly
dressed. Now she was mistress of herself and of the situation.
Both Huge Post and Ralph Ewing stopped laughing when they saw Miss
Sallie's face. She did not appear overpleased to see her two young
friends, whose doings were fully described in the preceding volume. "The
Automobile Girls at Newport."
"Where did you come from?" she asked politely, but without enthusiasm.
"And why did you knock on our door at this time of the evening, without
informing us who you were?"
"Ruth," continued Miss Sallie severely, "what are you and Barbara doing
in those clothes? Take them off at once."
"Please, ma'am," responded Bab meekly, but with a twinkle in her eye, "we
dressed up as men to frighten the highwaymen."
"You are enough to frighten them, I am sure," retorted Miss Stuart
scornfully.
Here, Ralph Ewing spoke in his most charming manner: "Miss Sallie, we do
owe you an apology and we make it with all our hearts. We had no
intention of playing any pranks when we came up the hill to see you.
Several days ago we were informed that 'The Automobile Girls' were
camping in the Berkshires. Well, Hugh and I are on our way to Boston to
join Mrs. Post, and----"
"Ralph, do let me do my share of the apologizing," interrupted Hugh. "See
here, Miss Sallie, this nonsense to-night is all my fault. Ralph was dead
against my pounding at the door and refusing to give our names; but I
thought it would be fun to stir the girls up. I knew two such valiant
girls as Ruth and Barbara would not be really frightened, even if we had
been a whole band of outlaws. It was a stupid practical joke and I am
ashamed of it."
"But how did you find us, Hugh?" put in Ruth, who was embarrassed by her
aunt's lack of cordiality to their old Newport friends.
"Please, Aunt Sallie, say you'll forgive us!" Hugh pleaded. "See how many
miles we have traveled to see you. We would have been here in the broad
daylight, only one of the tires in my machine would get a puncture. The
man at the garage told us which hill to climb to find you. We met your
guide coming down the hill, and he gave us further instructions. So here
we are! Aren't you just a little glad to see us?"
"Of course, I am," laughed Aunt Sallie, amiably. "But there is one thing
certain: you can't get down our hill again to-night, and we have no place
to offer you to sleep."
"Is that what is preying on my hospitable aunt's mind all this time?"
cried Ruth, throwing her arms about Miss Sallie. "I thought she wasn't
her usual charming self. Of course the boys shan't go down the hill again
to-night. I don't know where they will sleep, either; but Bab will bring
her fertile brain to bear upon the situation."
"Why, Miss Stuart!" Ralph spoke in relieved tones. "Is this why you are
not pleased to see us? We expect to go down the hill a little later. On
our way up we stopped at a farm house, and the people promised to take us
in for the night. We'll come back early in the morning, since Hugh and I
must be off again by afternoon. Mrs. Post is waiting for us in Boston."
"Oh, must you go so soon, boys?" pleaded Ruth. "We are planning the
jolliest lark. We are to have a coon hunt up on the hill with some
acquaintances we have just made in Lenox. They are to have supper with
us, and are to bring up a guide and some coon dogs for our hunt later on.
And you simply must stay at the cabin to-night. See, there is a lounge
here in the living room, and we have plenty of quilts and steamer rugs.
One of you can have the couch and the other can sleep on the floor by the
fire."
"May we, Miss Sallie?" Hugh queried.
"As you like, boys," declared Miss Stuart, now completely restored to
good humor.
"Then let's stay by all means!" urged Ralph. "What should we expect to
sleep on except the floor or the ground? This is the most effete camping
party I ever saw," he declared, looking around their cosy little cabin.
"You have all the comforts of home, here!"
"Do you think you and Ralph can stay for our coon hunt, Hugh?" asked Bab.
"Oh, for sure, Barbara," Hugh asserted. "I will fix things up with the
mater for a day; but we shall have to be off the next day without fail.
Now, I have an awful confession to make."
"What is it Hugh?" Ruth demanded.
"Ralph and I are starving!" he answered. "We were so bent on getting up
to your hut before it was too late, we didn't have time to get any
dinner. Could you, would you, just give us each a hunk of bread to stay
our appetites?"
"You poor souls!" cried Ruth. "Come on out in the kitchen with me,
Mollie. Let Bab and Grace do the entertaining. We'll fix you some eggs
and bacon in no time, the best you ever tasted. Our cook has gone to
bed."
"Let's have a feast for everybody," proposed Bab. "May we, Miss Sallie? I
am dreadfully hungry again. I haven't had anything to eat for at least
two hours and a half."
"Come, turn in then, everybody," Ruth called cheerily. "Here, Bab, you
undertake the Welsh rarebit and get out the pickles and crackers. Mollie,
get Hugh to help you open these cans of soup. Grace, you and Ralph, set
the table and talk to Aunt Sallie, while I fry my precious bacon."
"I never heard of such an extraordinary combination of things to eat. You
will ruin your digestions," was Miss Sallie's comment. But she ate just
as much as anyone else.
At midnight the girls were at last in bed. Hugh and Ralph, both wrapped
in blankets, were in blissful sleep before the camp fire. They had
scorned to accept the offer of the couch, wishing to enjoy camp life to
the fullest extent. So peace followed good cheer in the hut.