EMBERS IN THE GRATE
Mr. Durkin of the Coxford Hotel had furnished the party with a hearty
lunch to eat while they were en route to Red Deer Lodge, and Ruth had
brought two big thermos bottles of hot tea, likewise prepared at the
hotel. The drivers had their own lunches, and at noon the party halted
in the shelter of a windbreak to breathe the horses and allow them to
eat their oats.
Mrs. MacCall and the older girls complained of stiffness from sitting
so long in the sledges. Riding so far in the cold was not altogether
pleasant; there was no sunshine at all now. The gathering storm had
overcast the entire sky, and as they went on after lunch a rising wind
began moaning through the forest.
"I don't see why the trees have to make such a meachin' noise," sighed
Dot, as they climbed a steep hill so slowly that the rueful sound of
the rising gale was quite audible.
"Where did you get such a word, Dot?" demanded Ruth, smiling at her.
"It is a good word. Uncle Rufus uses it," declared the smallest Corner
House girl. "And Uncle Rufus never uses bad words."
"Granted," Ruth said. "But what does 'meachin' mean?"
"Why, just as though the wind felt bad and was whimpering about it,"
said Dot, with assurance. "It makes you all shivery to listen to it.
And after we heard that link, and know that there are bears and wolfs
about--O-o-oh! what's that, Ruthie?"
Something white had flashed right up in front of the noses of the
first team of horses, and with great leaps broke away from the road.
Tom Jonah was at the rear of the procession and did not at first see
this bounding shape.
Neale stood up in the second sleigh and clapped his hands sharply
together. The white ball stopped--halting right in a snow-patch; being
so much like the snow itself in color that those in the sledges could
scarcely see it. The sharp crack of Neale's ungloved palms seemed to
make the creature cower in the snow. It halted for a moment only,
however.
"Oh! The bunny!" gasped Tess, standing up to see.
"A big white hare," Mr. Howbridge said. "I had no idea there were such
big ones around here."
The hare burst into high speed again and disappeared, almost before
Tom Jonah set out for him.
"Come back, Tom Jonah!" shouted Tess. "Why, you couldn't catch that
bunny if you had started ahead of him."
"Wow! that's a good one," said Neale O'Neil. "Tell you what, Aggie,
those small sisters of yours are right full of new ideas."
"That is what teacher says is the matter with Robbie Foote," remarked
Sammy, thoughtfully.
"How is that?" asked Agnes, expecting some illuminating information
from the standpoint of a lower grade pupil.
"Why," Sammy explained, "teacher asked Rob what was the plural of man.
Rob told her 'men.' Then, of course, she had to keep right on at it.
If you do answer her right she goes right at you again," scoffed
Sammy. "That's why I don't often answer her right if I can help it. It
only makes you trouble."
"Oh! Oh!" chuckled Neale. "A Daniel come to judgment."
"Wait. Let's hear the rest of Sam's story," begged Agnes. "What was
Robbie Foote's idea?"
"That's what teacher said--he was full of ideas, only they were
silly," went on Sammy. "When he'd told her 'men' was the plural of
'man,' she said: 'What is the plural of child?' He told her 'twins.'
What d'you know about that? She said his ideas were silly."
"I'm not so sure he was silly," laughed Neale.
"I wonder what has become of those Birdsall twins," Agnes said
thoughtfully. "Up here in this wild country--"
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Neale. "You don't know anything of the kind.
Those two girls that fisher-woman spoke about--"
"One of them was a boy."
"Well, that doesn't prove anything. We don't even know that the two at
the fisher-village were twins."
"But they were brother and sister roaming about--runaways and alone."
"Oh, Aggie!" he cried, "don't make up your mind a thing is so without
getting some real evidence first. Mr. Howbridge asked, and he is not
at all sure those stragglers were the twins."
"Somehow I just feel that they were," sighed the second Corner House
girl, with a confidence that Neale saw it was useless to try to shake.
When Agnes Kenway made up her mind to a thing Neale wagged his head
and gave it up.
The party was quite too jolly, however, to bother much about the lost
Birdsall twins just then. Even Mr. Howbridge had said nothing about
them since his cross-examination of the hotel-keeper back at Coxford.
If the twins had come this way, for instance, attempting to reach Red
Deer Lodge, surely some of the people of Coxford or the woodsmen going
back and forth on the tote-road would have met and recognized them.
And if Ralph was dressed in some of his sister's clothing, they would
have been the more surely marked.
Two girls of twelve or so traveling into the woods? It seemed quite
ridiculous.
For this was indeed a wild country through which the tote-road ran.
The fact of its being a wilderness was marked even to the eyes of
those so unfamiliar with such scenes.
Now and then a fox barked from the brakes in the lowland. Jays in
droves winged across the clearings with raucous cries. More than one
trampled place beside the thickets of edible brush showed where the
deer herd had browsed within stone's throw of the tote-road.
And then, as the party came closer to the ridge on which Red Deer
Lodge was built, and the twilight began to gather, the big white owls
of these northern forests went flapping through the tree-lanes,
skimming the snowcrust for the rabbits and other small animals that
might be afoot even this early in the evening.
The spread of the wings of the first of these monster owls that they
saw was quite six feet from tip to tip, and it almost scared Dot
Kenway. With an eerie "Hoo! Hoo! Hoo-oo!" and a swish of wings it
crossed the road just ahead of the horses, and made even those
plodding beasts toss their heads and prick up their ears.
"Oh, look at that 'normous great white chicken!" shouted Dot. "Did you
ever?"
"It is an owl, child," said Tess.
"An owl as big as _that_?" gasped the smaller girl. "Why--why--it
could carry you right off like the eagle that Mr. Lycurgus Billet set
his Sue for bait! Don't you 'member?"
"I guess I do remember!" Tess declared. "But an owl isn't like an
eagle. It isn't so savage."
The party had come a long way, and the steaming horses were now weary.
As evening approached the cold increased in intensity, while the
mournfully sounding wind promised stern weather. The members of the
party from Milton began to congratulate each other that they were
arriving at the Lodge before a big storm should sweep over this
northern country.
"And suppose we get snowed in and aren't able to get out of the woods
till spring?" suggested Cecile, not without some small fear that such
might be a possibility.
"There goes little Miss Fidget!" cried her brother. "Always worrying
over the worst that may happen."
"But I suppose we could be snowbound up here?" suggested Ruth,
although scarcely with anxiety.
"Yes!" agreed Luke, laughing. "And pigs might fly. But they tell me
they are awful uncertain birds."
"Don't listen to him, Ruthie," said Cecile. "We may have to stay here
all winter long."
"Then I only hope Mr. Howbridge sent up grub enough to see us through
till spring," put in the collegian gayly. "For I can foresee right now
that this keen air is going to give me the appetite of an Eskimo."
It was a long climb to the top of the ridge on which the Birdsalls had
built their rustic home. When the party came in sight of it the lamps
were already lighted and these beckoned cheerfully to the arrivals
while they were still a long way off.
The private road which had branched off from the regular tote-road at
the foot of the ridge was easy to ascend beside some of the hills they
had climbed. The teams, however, were not to be urged out of a walk.
There was a sudden flare of sulphurous light over the wooded caps of
the mountains to the west of the ridge; but this lasted only a few
minutes. The sun was then smothered in the mists as it sank to rest.
Dusk almost at once filled the aisles of the forest.
On the summit of the ridge about the big, sprawling, rustic house only
shade trees had been allowed to stand. The land was cleared and tilled
to some extent. At least, there was plenty of open space around the
Lodge and the log barns and the outbuildings.
Somebody was on watch, for the big entrance door opened before the
sleds reached the steps, and yellow lamplight shone out across the
porch. Hedden stood in the doorway, while another man ran down to
assist with the bags and bundles.
"Oh, what a homelike looking place!" Ruth cried, quite as amazed as
the other visitors by the appearance of the Lodge.
Aside from the fact that the house was built of round logs with the
bark peeled off, it did not seem to be at all rough or of crude
construction. There were two floors and a garret. The entrance hall
seemed as big as a barn.
It was cozy and warm, however, despite its size. There was a gallery
all around this hall at the level of the second floor, and a stairway
went up on either side. At the rear was a huge fireplace, and this was
heaped with logs which gave off both light and heat. There was a
chandelier dropped from the ceiling, however, and acetylene gas flared
from the burners of this fixture.
The whole party crowded to the hearth where benches and chairs were
drawn up in a wide circle before the flames. The maids relieved Mrs.
MacCall and the girls of their outer wraps and overshoes. The boys had
been shown where they were to leave their caps and coats.
Such a hilarious crowd as they were! Jokes and cheerful gossip were
the order of this hour of rest. With all but one member of the party!
There was one very serious face, and this was the countenance of the
youngest of the four Kenway sisters.
"Dorothy Kenway! what is the matter with you?" demanded Tess, at last
seeing the expression on the face of her little sister.
Dot had been gazing all about the room with amazed eyes until this
question came. Then with gravity she asked:
"Tessie! didn't Mr. Howbridge say this was a lodge?"
"Why, yes; this is Red Deer Lodge, child," rejoined Tess.
"But--but, Tess! you know it isn't a lodge, nor a room where they have
lodges! Now, is it?!"
"Why--why--"
"It can't be!" went on the smaller girl with great insistence. "You
know that was a lodge where we went night before last to have our
Christmas tree on Meadow Street."
"A _lodge_?" gasped Tess.
"Yes. You know it was. And there was a pulpit and chairs on a platform
at both ends of the lodge. And lodges are held there. I know, 'cause
Becky Goronofsky's father belongs to one that meets there. She said
so. And he wears a little white apron with a blue border and a sash
over his shoulder.
"Now," said the earnest Dot, "there's nothing like that here, so it's
not a lodge at all. I don't see why they call it a red lodge for
deers."
Tess would have been tempted to call on Mr. Howbridge himself for an
explanation of this seeming mystery had the lawyer not been just then
in conference with Hedden in a corner of the room. The butler had
beckoned his employer away from the others.
"What is it, Hedden?" asked the lawyer. "Has something gone wrong?"
"Not with the arrangements for the comfort of your party, Mr.
Howbridge," the man assured him. "But when we came in here yesterday
(and I unlocked the door myself with the key you gave me) I found that
somebody had recently occupied the Lodge."
"You don't mean it! Somebody broken in! Some thief?"
"No, sir. I went around to all the windows and doors. Nobody had
broken in. Whoever it was must have had a key, too."
"But who was it? What did the intruder do?"
"I find nothing disturbed, sir. Nothing of importance. But one room,
at least, had been used recently. It is a sitting-room upstairs--right
near this main hall. There had been a fire in the grate up there. When
we came in yesterday the embers were still glowing. But I could find
no intruder anywhere about the Lodge, sir."