TWELVE GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS.
Ethel Zimmerman and Ernestine Johnson fainted. All of the rest of the
twelve girls who had been decoyed into the Buchholz house by the
"sympathetic Mrs. Eddy" were thrown into a panic. And the terror of
the situation was not mollified in the least by the sudden appearance
on the scene of five men.
Where the men came from so suddenly was not at all clear. Undoubtedly
they had been hidden somewhere, but that place could not be
determined, for none of the girls remembered from what direction they
had made their appearance, north, south, east, west, up, or down. They
were just there, and that was all there was to it.
The men did not look like ruffians exactly, although they were not
clad in "gentlemen's clothes." The girls were huddled together in the
dark scantily-furnished front room, which at some time probably had
served the purpose of a combined parlor and reception room. The next
apartment, probably designed as a living room, was lighted by a single
gas jet turned low.
Ethel and Ernestine fainted in the midst of the address of warning and
command from the spokesman of the plotters. This was a signal for a
rally to their aid on the part of the other Camp Fire Girls best
gifted with presence of mind. Marion led this move, and was quickly
assisted by Ruth Hazelton, Julietta Hyde, and Marie Crismore. No
objection was offered by the men to this proceeding, as they were
intelligent enough to realize that the success of their plot depended
largely on a careful guard against a noisy panic that would attract
attention from without.
"Somebody get some water quick," Marion directed, as she proceeded to
go through the reviving formula in which all of them had been
thoroughly drilled.
"I'll get some," "Mrs. Eddy" volunteered, indicating by her offer and
actions that she was an efficient ally of the kidnappers. She hastened
into the kitchen and soon returned with a large dipper of water.
Marion took it from her and sprinkled some of the liquid on the faces
of the unconscious girls. The latter quickly recovered and sat up.
But meanwhile the five men were not idle. The leader addressed the
girls again with more gentle words and manner, realizing, as only an
intelligent criminal may do, that a confidence man's method is the
best method for producing a desired illegal effect. In a degree, he
was successful, attempting to reassure the captives in the following
manner:
"Now, girls, you have nothing to fear from us, if you obey orders. We
don't wish to harm a hair on any of your heads. We are merely
determined to get what we have set out for, and we are going to use
you to help us get it. If you try to balk our purpose, you must take
the consequences. Otherwise you will suffer only such inconveniences
as go naturally with the experience of being kidnapped. And try to
realize this, that being kidnapped isn't such a terrible thing if you
are in the custody of gentlemen kidnappers. That's what we
are--gentlemen kidnappers. All we ask of you is that you prove
yourselves to be what gentlemen kidnappers prefer above all others,
namely, real ladylike prisoners.
"Now," he added after a pause during which he surveyed his audience as
if to determine the effect of his words; "as soon as the two young
ladies who were so unfortunate as to make the mistake of connecting a
tragic prospect with this affair have fully recovered, we will
proceed."
"That fellow is disguised," declared Marion in a whisper to the girls
nearest her. "In fact, all of them are. Observe that every one of them
wears a beard, moustache or short side whiskers. Watch their eyes and
mouths and every expression on their faces so that we may be able to
identify them if we are ever called upon to do so."
"Now, girls," said the spokesman with well simulated gentleness, "no
more of that. We don't want to be unduly rude with you, but if there
is any more whispering, we'll have to resort to measures that will
make it impossible. Now, I think you are all ready, so just follow
the leader and some of us will bring up the rear. We will proceed
first into the basement."
Tremblingly the twelve Camp Fire Girls followed two of the men down
the cellar steps. It was evident to them that resistance would be
worse than useless. A single blow from the fist of one of those
powerful men would stun any of the girls, if it did not knock her
unconscious. In fact their captors could make quick work of them if
necessary, and, cooped up as they were in this isolated prison, they
could scarcely hope to send forth an effective cry of distress before
they were rendered physically incapable of sounding further alarm.
All of the "gentlemen kidnappers" were supplied with electric flash
lights, with which they illuminated the cellar and revealed to their
captives a hole three feet in diameter in the ground floor and
seemingly a flight of steps leading downward.
"Don't get scared, young ladies," advised the "gentlemanly leader" of
the "gentleman kidnappers" softly. "That hole is merely the mouth of
an old coal mine. We will conduct you through the mine to the other
end, which is concealed from public view at a distance, and there we
will find four automobiles waiting for you. Lead the way, comrad
kidnappers."
The two head men descended into the hole, and the girls followed
Indian file. The spokesman and one other man descended last as a rear
guard. One of the men remained in the cellar with "Mrs. Eddy" and
together they hurriedly replaced the old door over the mouth of the
mine, shoveled some loose earth over this and then covered the earth
with eight or ten thicknesses of scrap lumber loosely tossed in a
heap.
Meanwhile the girls, guided by the lights ahead and aided by the two
lights behind, which were directed helpfully along their path, made
their way laboriously down the slope and along the many-angled gallery
to the opening at the other side of Holly Hill, as the high, rounded
elevation on and around which the city was built was called. Under
different circumstances undoubtedly they would have been much
interested in this experience as a subterranean exploration. And they
had all the time they might need for such exploration, for the dusk of
evening had not yet developed into darkness and they had to wait in
the mine over an hour before it was deemed safe to venture out with
the captives.
Near the opening at the foot of the bluff behind the abandoned flour
mill, gags were tied tightly over the girls' mouths and their hands
were bound in front of them, and they were assisted one by one down a
gradual, but rough, incline and into the waiting machines. Snow
falling in millions of huge flakes, a fact that evidently caused the
kidnappers more worry than the possibility of detection by persons in
the vicinity, for remarks escaped some of them relative to the
importance of haste before the roads became impassable to automobiles.
But the storm served them one good purpose if it menaced them in
another respect. It rendered the darkness of the night more
impenetrable and kept the streets almost free of pedestrians.
Moreover, the plotters were well supplied with means and methods of
guarding against escape or rescue. The gags and cloth manacles were so
well made that one might have suspected them of being products of a
manual training school of burglars' wives. During the passage from the
mine to the automobiles each of the girls wore a shawl thrown over her
head and pinned close in front, thus concealing both the gags and the
manacled condition of their hands.
At last they were all in the machines, each of which was in charge of
a driver. Three of the girls were put into each automobile and one of
the men got in with them to see that their conduct was as per
scheduled program. Then the start was made.
On, on they went, out into the country and along a road that Marion
knew led into the heart of the mountains. She could see the dim,
shadowy form of High Peak in the distance. Meanwhile, as she peered
out eagerly into the darkness with an irrational longing for rescue
from some miraculous source--for this was the only kind of rescue
that seemed possible under the circumstances--she kept working at the
bonds about her wrists and the gag in her mouth slyly and without
obvious effort, until with joy she realized that she was at least
partly successful.
"I am certain I could shove that thing right out of my mouth and give
the most piercing scream ever heard if somebody would only come along
and hear me," she told herself.
The snow kept on falling heavily, much to the alarm of the kidnappers
and the joy of the kidnapped, but the automobiles reached the
mountains before there was any serious delay. It looked indeed as if
the trip would be successful from the point of view of the captors of
the Camp Fire Girls. But at last the snow became so deep that the
girls could feel that the automobiles were laboring under almost
insurmountable difficulties. Marion heard several curses uttered by
the chauffeur, and the man inside the car echoed them once or twice.
Finally the automobile came to a full stop and the driver could force
it along no further. A consultation, with all three of the men taking
part, was held.
In the midst of their debate, something happened that changed the
aspect of things almost as completely as might have been accomplished
if Marion's dream of a miraculous rescue had been realized. Other
persons were on the scene and they were talking to the driver,
inquiring if they could be of any assistance.
"We're a patrol of Boy Scouts," one of the new arrivals said. "We've
lost our way, but that doesn't need hinder our helping you out of your
scrape. Maybe you can direct us how to find our way back."
Marion never felt a more intense thrill in her life than she felt at
the sound of that voice. She looked out of the window and saw a group
of eight or ten boys, each of them carrying a gun, close to the
automobile.
With an effort that had behind it all of the power of the most joyous
impulse of her life, she swung her bound clinched fists right through
the pane of glass, pushed the gag from her mouth, and shouted:
"Clifford! Clifford! This is Marion. All of us girls are being
kidnapped by these men. Shoot these rascals and shoot to kill."
* * * * *