TROUBLE FINDS THEM
After all, it was not Colonel Lewis nor Ran who first found the two
lost ones, but that humble and frequently despised creature, Trouble.
Trouble at whom Colonel Lewis always jeered, whom Phil often teased,
and Mary Lee abused to his face, calling him mongrel cur while he
wagged his tail in happy unconsciousness that she was not calling him a
pet name. It was a favorite amusement of Mary Lee's to use all sorts of
uncomplimentary words in a caressing voice when speaking to the dog, so
that Trouble would believe he was being made much of and would respond
in his best manner.
Nan suddenly remembered this after her return home and she called the
dog, wrote a note and tied it around his neck, then bade him follow
the carriage, which at that time was still in sight. He understood
and obeyed gladly for he always delighted to be one of an outgoing
party. That he did not follow them earlier in the afternoon was because
Mary Lee had driven him back when he had tried to become one of their
number. "He is always scaring up rabbits and frightening birds when
Phil and I want to observe their habits," she said in excuse.
"Observe their habits," mocked Nan. "Do let him go; he can follow me
all he likes."
"That's just what he will not do," Mary Lee returned. "He always comes
with us."
"Because you go prowling around and I sit still," retorted Nan. "He's
just as fond of me, I know."
But Mary Lee had her way and called Unc' Landy to keep Trouble at home.
Colonel Lewis and Ran had already started upon their search when
Trouble sprang out of the darkness toward the fire in front of which
Ashby sat. Greatly pleased at discovering one of the family, Trouble
nearly wagged off the hind part of his body. That Ashby was glad to see
him goes without the saying, and the boy was glad for more than one
reason.
"Good boy, Trouble, come here," he said. "You've had a long tramp,
haven't you? What's that around your neck?" He unfastened the note
which was tied to his collar. It read: "Send Trouble after Mary Lee
and Phil. He can get the scent from their coats that we put in the
carriage. Oh, I hope he can find them. Nan."
Ashby ran to the carriage and dragged forth the wraps. Quickly
selecting a coat of Mary Lee's and one of Phil's, he held them out.
"Here, Trouble," he said, "seek them. Find Mary Lee, Trouble." The dog
sniffed the coat, trotted off a few steps, looked back to see if he was
doing what was expected of him, and then, with nose to the ground, took
up the scent and disappeared.
At this very moment, Phil was cowering in the leaves in momentary
fear of hearing the wildcat's scream closer at hand. An owl hooting
mournfully near-by suddenly awakened Mary Lee who gave a little shriek
of terror as she realized where she was. "I've been asleep in these
dreadful lonely woods," she said. "How could I do it? Oh, Phil, what's
that?" For again the cry of the wildcat sounded through the forest.
"Never mind, Mary Lee," said Phil. "Don't be scared. I'll take care of
you."
"How can you," said Mary Lee, "a boy with not even a pistol? What can
you do to a wildcat?"
"I'll fight it as long as I can," said Phil between set teeth, "and you
could get away anyhow. Hark! What's that?" For there was a new sound
in the woods that was neither cry of wildcat nor hoot of owl, but the
honest and friendly bark of a dog.
Phil sprang to his feet.
"Is it--is it a wolf?" asked Mary Lee in trepidation.
"No sir-ee," cried Phil, excitedly. "It's a dog, a sure enough dog,
and, if I am not much mistaken, it's old Trouble."
Mary Lee scrambled from her nest of leaves and joined Phil in calling.
"Trouble, Trouble! Hyar! Hyar!"
There was a joyous yelp, a scampering over dead leaves and presently
Trouble dashed out of the darkness toward them.
"Oh, Trouble, Trouble, you blessed old dear!" Mary Lee flung her arms
around the dog who could not keep still in his joy and excitement.
"Listen! Look!" cried Phil. There was a faint call in the distance,
then the twinkle of a light seen through the naked trees. Phil's
mountain call was answered and the lights came nearer and nearer.
Trouble dashed toward them barking, yelping. The owl was silent, though
they heard the soft rush of wings overhead. The cry of the wildcat
sounded faint and far, but close at hand came a glad "Hallo!" followed
by the call of "Phil, Phil, are you safe, boy?" And in another minute
the forms of Colonel Lewis and Ran appeared in the gleam of their
lanterns which shot long beams aslant the darkness, and discovered Phil
and Mary Lee standing in the pile of dry leaves.
It was a triumphant journey home and no one was more contented than
Trouble who lay snuggled by Mary Lee's side, his head in her lap, while
the slow way was made down the mountainside.
It was almost midnight before the horses drew up before the house, but
a light shining from the living-room showed that some one was still
up and watching. At the sound of the wheels Aunt Sarah came forth and
peered out.
"All safe," cried Ran, climbing down. He was followed by Ashby, Mary
Lee and Trouble last, though upon this occasion not least.
Colonel Lewis drove away saying there was too much anxiety at his own
home for him to stop a moment to talk.
After hearing particulars, and learning that they had eaten on their
way home, Aunt Sarah hustled every one to bed, saying that rest was the
best for each one of them.
Nan had fallen asleep at last, but, as Mary Lee slipped into bed beside
her, she was conscious of her presence and stretched out a hand to
be sure, then threw an arm around her sister as if to keep her from
slipping away again.
There was great rejoicing in the morning and Jack was so full of the
adventures of Phil and Mary Lee that she could not keep her mind on
her Sunday-school lesson and heard scarce a word her teacher said.
Trouble was made much of and was saved so many tid-bits from the
breakfast plates that he was in danger of an attack of indigestion.
"I'll never call him a mongrel cur again," said Mary Lee tenderly. "If
it hadn't been for him, we might never have been found."
"You forget," said Randolph, with a look across the table at Nan, "that
if it hadn't been for Nan, Trouble would never have gone in search of
you," and then and there Nan forgave him for his rude speech of the day
before.
"If I hadn't come home, I would never have thought of sending him," she
acknowledged. "He ought to have a medal, bless him."
"So he shall have," said Ran, and he gravely provided a tin medal on
which was scratched: "For Heroic Service." This was fastened to the
dog's collar and it was worn proudly.
However much Nan may have felt that Ran had made amends, the boy
himself did not consider that he had and came to his cousin as she was
tidying up the living-room. "Are you going to church, Nan?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied. "I feel as if I had been drawn through
a knot-hole this morning. Of course, Mary Lee won't go and maybe I'll
stay at home to keep her company, though she's still asleep, poor
child."
"I thought if you were going I'd wait for you," said Ran.
Nan threw him a mocking smile. "I thought you didn't care for my
company," she said.
"That was yesterday," returned Ran. "Besides, I didn't say I didn't
want your company; I said I didn't want you to stay up there on the
mountain and so I didn't, for I was afraid then that those two were
lost and I knew it would be harder for you there than at home. Then I
knew if we set out on a search you couldn't go and it would not do to
leave you all alone."
"I realized all that afterward," Nan told him frankly.
"Then we have made up," said Ran with boyish eagerness.
"Of course," returned Nan. "I was miffed only for a few minutes. I knew
before we got home that you spoke as you did so I wouldn't insist upon
staying. Still," she added, "it was hard to go off and leave one's
sister to wildcats, though I must say Mary Lee isn't thinking much
about them at this moment, and I hope she isn't dreaming about them.
There comes Phil, so he is all right. Mary Lee says he was so brave and
manly, little as he is."
Phil joined them. "Say, did any of you see my watch?" were his first
words.
"Why, no," replied the two. "Have you lost it, Phil?" asked Nan.
"I'm afraid so. I must have caught the chain on something in the woods
and snapped it so the watch fell out when I stooped over. The end of
the chain was hanging from the buttonhole when I looked last night
after I came home, but the watch was gone."
"Isn't that too bad?" said Nan, sympathetically. "You will have a hard
time finding it, I am afraid."
"I'm afraid so. I wouldn't lose that watch for anything, and I'm going
to hunt high and low for it."
"We'll all help," said Ran. "We'll organize a search party, Phil, and
go up the mountain to-morrow afternoon."
"Say, that will be fine," said Phil, gratefully. His watch was one of
his dearest possessions; he had not had it very long and was feeling
very hopeless over its loss. "I don't suppose we shall find it," he
went on, "but I'm glad to have your help in looking for it. How's Mary
Lee?"
"She's asleep," Nan told him. "Aunt Sarah said we were not to disturb
her. I think she is only worn out. You are all right, aren't you, Phil?"
"Yes, indeed, or I would be if I hadn't lost my watch. They are waiting
for me; I must go or I will be late for church."
"I reckon I'll go," said Nan suddenly. Miss Sarah, the twins and Ashby
had gone on, and soon Nan followed with Randolph. She was feeling
very thankful for her sister's safety, and she was not the only one
of that congregation who sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for the
deliverance of two children from the "terror by night."
The next afternoon, the search party started forth though this time
Miss Sarah declared the girls should not go, that they had not yet
recovered from the effects of their last trip. However, since Colonel
Lewis was to be their guide, and his daughter was going, too, consent
was finally given to Mary Lee, though she was charged not to lose sight
of the older members of the party.
"I really don't feel as if I ought to let you go," said Aunt Sarah,
"but, since Polly and her father will be there, I can assume that you
will be reasonably safe."
"When Phil was so good to me and would have fought the wildcat if
it had attacked us, I ought to go," said Mary Lee. "I should feel
downright mean not to help look for the watch. Besides, I know where
we were better than any one."
"Well, go along," said Aunt Sarah, "but don't you lose sight for one
minute of Polly and her father and don't go traipsing off with Phil
alone."
Mary Lee promised, and they set out.
Nan had had enough of the mountain for one while, and besides her arm
was scarce strong enough for her to indulge in horseback riding, for
it was in this fashion that the party determined to go. The twins were
in terror of the wildcat and it was not difficult to persuade them to
remain behind.
A thin stream of smoke curled up above the purple-brown trees against
the blue sky as the riders turned toward the mountain path.
"I wonder if that is our fire still burning," said Mary Lee to the
colonel.
"Hardly," he answered. "It is some cabin in the mountain I suppose."
Mary Lee watched the smoke drift away across the blue and wondered
how it would seem to live so far from neighbors. She decided that she
would not like it. They were able to penetrate much further with their
horses, and this time Colonel Lewis's compass was put to use. When the
path became too intricate they fastened their horses and the colonel
led the way on foot, and finally reached the very log where Phil and
Mary Lee had rested the night of their wanderings.
To their surprise, a little further on was a clearing, and it was
discovered that the path they had taken led them to a cabin, from which
came the stream of curling smoke they had seen as they came up the
mountain. After searching all along their way and at last scattering
the leaves by the log they concluded that they must give up the watch
as irretrievably lost, and were about to turn away when Mary Lee saw
some one watching them curiously from a little distance off.
"There's somebody," she said to her Cousin Polly. "I am going to ask if
anything has been seen of the watch."
"Where's anybody?" asked Polly.
"Over there; it is a little girl about as big as I am."
"It must be Wordsworth's cottage girl," said Polly, "for she has 'a
rustic woodland air, and she is wildly clad.' I reckon she will run if
you speak to her, Mary Lee. These mountain people are mighty scary."
"Then don't you come. Maybe she won't be afraid of a girl her own size.
You stay here."
Polly agreed and Mary Lee went toward the girl who did indeed show
signs of alarm and looked as if she were about to run away when Mary
Lee called to her, "don't go, please. I want to ask you something."
The girl stood her ground though she backed away as Mary Lee came up.
She was a pretty, dark-eyed little creature with masses of light curly
hair tousled about her neck. She wore a ragged, faded calico frock and
her feet were bare.
"My cousin and I got lost up here Saturday night," said Mary Lee, "and
if we had known there was a house so near we wouldn't have been so
scared. We heard a wildcat and it frightened us nearly out of our wits."
The girl looked interested. Mary Lee had chosen the proper way to
approach her. "We-alls ain't skeered of 'em," she drawled. "Maw shot
one las' week, an' she come nigh gittin' another yessaday."
"Maybe it was the very one that scared us. I wish she had killed it.
I wonder why we didn't see a light in your house. That is your house,
isn't it?"
"Yes, we-alls lives hyah. They wasn't no light, 'scusin' the fiah, an'
that died down arter supper. We-alls goes to bed with the chickens."
"We didn't get home till nearly midnight," Mary Lee told her, "and my,
but I was tired. My cousin and I got lost from the rest and they had
a great time finding us. If we had only gone on a little further, we
should have come to your house, shouldn't we?"
"We-alls don't come aroun' that-a-way from town; we comes up the other
side; it's a little mite furder but it ain't so steep."
"Oh, that's it. I wish we had known." Then feeling that she had
established a sufficient acquaintance to put her important question she
asked, "You didn't happen to find a little watch in the leaves, did
you? My cousin lost it. He sets such store by it and we all came up the
mountain this afternoon to help him find it."
For answer the girl put her hand down into the bosom of her frock and
drew forth something which she held out in her palm. It was Phil's
watch.
"Oh!" Mary Lee turned and called: "Polly, Polly, it's found! it's
found!" She turned to the girl again. "Where did you find it? and
please tell me your name."
"My name's Daniella Boggs," said the girl, taking a shy look at Polly
Lewis who now came up.
Polly put out her hand and gently detained the girl who seemed about
to flee. "We are so much obliged," she said. "My little brother was
distressed at losing his watch. Where did you find it?"
The girl who had put one finger in her mouth, took it out and pointed
to the heap of leaves by the log. It was evident that in stooping over
to gather them Phil had dropped the watch.
Colonel Lewis moved toward them but Polly waved him off. She saw that
the girl was too shy to stand more company, and she left her with Mary
Lee, herself returning to her father. "Offer her a reward," he said.
"Of course it was very honest of her. She could easily have said that
she had seen nothing of the watch. Here," he took a bill from his
pocketbook and handed it to Polly, "give her this and tell her we all
thank her very much."
Polly carried the bill to the girl. "My father and all of us are very
much obliged to you," she said, "and we want you to take this."
Daniella retreated, shaking her head and putting her hands behind her.
"I don't want it," she said. "I ain't done nothin' to earn it. 'Twa'n't
no work nor nothin'."
"Oh, but," Polly argued, "when people lose things, they expect to give
a reward to whoever finds them."
Daniella still shook her head. "I ain't done nothin'," she repeated.
"Maw wouldn't like me to take money."
"But you could spend it in town."
"Don't never go to town."
"But isn't there anything you would like? Your mother could buy it for
you, you know."
Daniella looked at the red knitted jacket which Mary Lee wore. "I like
that," she said, nodding her head toward it.
"Then you shall have one just like it," said Polly, heartily. "I will
go right to work and knit it myself. Wouldn't you like a pair of shoes
for winter? and can you read?"
"Maw kin. I kain't. I'd like the shoes when it snows, but I hates to
put 'em on befo' that."
"Then you shall have a pair all ready for the first snow," Polly told
her.
"I wish you would come to my home some day. Will you, if we come for
you?" asked Mary Lee, with a missionary spirit of enlarging the girl's
ideas.
"I'd be skeered," said Daniella.
"Oh, no, you wouldn't. I have three sisters and we don't live right in
the town; it's like country. We have chickens and things."
"I've got some chickens," returned Daniella, "an' I've got a pig, too.
Maw wouldn't let me go to town, I reckon, 'cause I ain't got clothes
like you-uns. She ain't no time to make 'em. She too busy nussin'
grandad. He right foolish-lak now, jest lak a baby."
"Well, we'll come some day to see if your mother will let you come to
town," said Mary Lee.
"And I will bring you a red jacket like this." Polly put her hand on
Mary Lee's arm. "Good-bye, Daniella. We shall not forget you."
Daniella smiled, but made no reply. She wondered if she would really
ever have such a beautiful thing as that red jacket. About going to
town she was not so keen, for she had never been there in all her short
life, and, though she half longed to see its wonders, she feared to
step beyond the confines of her own forest.
She watched the party ride off, but turned to run as Phil, who declared
he must thank her personally, went toward her. Like a deer the girl
fled, not stopping till she was safe in her own cabin-home. Her courage
had stood all that one afternoon would allow.
[Illustration: CHAPTER XIV
DANIELLA]