DANGER SIGNALS
Daylight showed what havoc the storm had wrought. The lake front was
strewn with craft washed in by the swelled waters; there were
sailboats bottom side up, canvas carried from one end of the lake to
the other, rowboats torn from their docks where strong ropes over
stronger posts were thought to hold them securely; in fact the storm
had been a record-breaker and the new record was one of considerable
devastation.
Crowds of curious gathered early, and in general terms business was
suspended in favor of sight-seeing. But it was among the campers that
the greatest damage had been done, and Camp Norm was not alone in
blowing away in the tempest.
Those who sought shelter in Camp Comalong were up and out early, and
the Bobbies were not long in following.
"Poor old Norm," sighed Bubbles. "We will now be sure to fall to
sub-norm, for never again can we claim to be normal."
A camp untented after a downpour of rain is about as forlorn a sight
as can be imagined, and it was such a spectacle as this that
confronted the Norms on the bleakish early morning.
Wet! Wetter! Wettest!
The trees still rained; the grass emitted a hissing moisture, the air
was as wet as if the rain had anchored in it, and never was there a
more unhappy looking crowd than the unroofed campers of Lake Hocomo.
"Weren't we lucky?" said Julia. "Just see how everyone has had
something damaged and we never lost a thing but a couple of tree
boxes."
"And the curtains off the sideboard," added Grace. "But they were
going anyhow, I caught my heel in one yesterday."
Everyone helped everyone get things back where they belonged, and by
noon the Norm girls had succeeded in reclaiming the truant canvas and
stretching it again over their summer belongings. Many things were
irreparably damaged, for even good, strong boxes could not stand the
elements when they "elemented" at last night's pace.
But the excitement added zest to their spirit, and hither and thither
went the Bobbies like a little band of rescuers, carrying and toting
for the victims quite like the workers in more seriously stricken
zones.
A holiday was declared in the afternoon, however, and it was then that
Cleo, Louise and Julia went for their long, looked forward to ride.
Being assured they had permission from home (it was talked of on the
visit with mothers the day before), also assured that a woman
instructor would ride with the girls, they left camp directly after
dinner, hurried to the home cottages to don their riding togs, and
when the sky was bluest, the trees greenest, and everything nicely
dried up, the three Scouts, with Mrs. Broadbent the instructor,
cantered off through the curling roads of Hocomo.
Getting acquainted with their horses took some little time, but they
were gentle animals and seemed to enjoy either trotting or cantering
as their little riders willed.
Out on the turnpike road there were so many motors that Mrs. Broadbent
suggested they go cross field and come out along the old mining
regions.
"Is that where the powder mills are?" asked Cleo.
"Yes, there are some big powder works in this district," replied the
horsewoman. "We had many soldier boys out here doing guard duty a few
years ago."
The girls remembered the remark about dynamite signs, more than one
person having warned them that the signs might be found but were
really harmless, and when their horses smelled the fresh clover on the
slope between two hills, Mrs. Broadbent suggested the riders dismount
and rest awhile, allowing the horses to "nose around" and enjoy
themselves for a half hour.
"'Pep' expects a treat when he gets up here," she said, "and Baldy
likes this tall grass, he doesn't have to stoop so low to get it."
The riders assented gladly. It was delightful to "browse" in such a
spot, for the hill afforded a rare view of the lake and surrounding
bungalows and tent district.
Freely the three Scouts roamed about, searching for odd flowers and
pretty stones, although just how the stones were going to be carried
without spoiling riding-habit pockets, was not quite clear. The
horsewoman stretched herself in the grass and called orders to the
horses, should they wander too far from safety.
Hunting about, Louise found a pretty little mountain bell in between
rocks, where it must have expected security, while Cleo and Julia were
soon applying their newest botanical knowledge on the Jack-in-pulpit
and companion wild orchids.
Glittering bits of stone, the sparkling mica-schist, that looks like
pebbly crystals spread on too thick, afforded another line of
investigation, and following such a trail into a little ravine, Julia
discovered the dynamite sign.
At first she was inclined to heed its warning literally, and with a
little squeal she dropped one of her prettiest stones and scraped her
riding boot in hurrying away; but Cleo was more daring.
"Just one of those make-believe signs," she suggested. "Perhaps the
boys gathered them from around the old powder works and set them up to
scare people away."
"Maybe the boys have a hidden cave somewhere and the signs are to keep
folks away," Louise amplified the idea so barely outlined by Cleo.
"But we had better not follow the trail," demurred Julia. "The rocks
are awfully rough anyhow, and we will skin our boots to pieces if we
try to climb higher."
All three stood looking at the sign but no one ventured to touch the
tin square, which stood on its iron peg firmly planted in the ground
and mutely gave forth its "Danger" warning.
Cleo bent over to look all around the little signal.
"There doesn't seem to be a pipe, or a wire, or anything near it," she
reported. "I can't see how there can be any danger without something
dangerous."
"Don't you dare touch it," warned Julia. "It is certainly planted
there for some purpose."
"Boys, I'm just sure," insisted Louise. "I've often read of their
caves in the mountains and how they store things away in them. Boys'
books are packed full of that sort of thing."
"But real robbers have mountain caves also." Julia was determined to
make a good story out of the plot. "How would you like to run into a
genuine bandit, with a black handkerchief over his face and two
hideous pistols in his hand?"
"One in each hand, Jule," corrected Cleo. "That's the regular way,"
and she stalked forward in the "regulation way," with two pretty
innocent Jack-in-pulpits doing service in lieu of the dangerous bandit
weapons.
"Come along, desperadoes, there's our horses calling us," Julia
proposed.
"I'd just like to kick over that sign," Cleo whispered to Louise.
"Let's get that long stick over there and turn it over," suggested
Louise.
"Suppose we blow up the hills," laughed Cleo. But Louise had already
obtained the stick, and although Julia was headed for the waiting
horses her two companions were still fascinated by that danger signal.
"Look out!" warned Louise, going a little closer.
"Let me do it, Weasy, if there's a blow I can run faster than you."
Both giggled and chuckled, becoming more reckless as they joked.
Finally both held the stick and attempted to poke.
Only girls of their charmed age can do a thing like that in the way
they did it, for had the innocent tin sign been a perfectly obvious
bomb, the Bobbies could not possibly have made greater show and fuss
over their attempt to displace it.
"Care--ful!" whispered Cleo, but one thrust of the white birch pole and
the sign was uprooted!
As it fell from its peg the girls squealed and jumped, but there it
lay, like a sign "keep off the grass" or "please wipe your feet," and
nothing happened.
"I knew it!" snapped Cleo.
"Of course," insisted Louise. "Just boys' pranks."
"But there could be danger further on," argued Cleo, loathe to give up
a perfectly good sensation without even a shiver.
"Yes, there's Julia calling; come along," finished Louise.
Racing back they stumbled over another danger sign. It was almost
hidden in some underbrush, and without stick or precaution Cleo gaily
kicked it over, emitting a triumphant "whoo--pee" as she did so.
"Guess they grow up here," she told her companion. "Quite a crop of
them."
"They would be splendid to stick up around the camp 'eats box,'"
suggested Louise. "I wish I had brought one along."
"Grand idea, and we could put one up in front of our new supply of
cake," Cleo added. "I need something like that to protect mine, for
the prize chocolate layer is going down very rapidly."
There was no time to tell Julia of their adventure. The horses were
reclaimed from their pasture, and presently all were mounted again and
going on a gentle little trot down the rather steep incline.
Where two paths forked and the road was barely wide enough even to be
called single, they drew rein to wait for some other riders whose
horses could be heard but not seen through the trees.
Presently a familiar pony pranced around the curve and on it--sat Peg.
"Oh, there's Peg!" exclaimed all three Scouts.
"Hello, Peg!" they called cheerily. They were, indeed, delighted to
meet her on the road.
"Hel--lo!" she answered. There was no joy in her voice, however,
although she pulled the blue roan up short--she glanced backward, then
the girls saw she was looking for another rider.
Mrs. Broadbent realized the time allowed the Scouts with their horses
was almost up, so she urged her little company to hurry along. Rather
slowly they obeyed, and the second rider was beside Peg now and it
proved to be her aunt, Miss Ramsdell.
"Aunt Carrie on horseback!" said one girl to another. They were
naturally surprised to see the rather elderly and white haired woman
mounted. But she sat well, and looked well, although her habit was of
the full divided skirt pattern, and she sat sidewise as women did
twenty years ago.
"Have a nice ride?" Peg called after them when there could be no
possibility of more intimate conversation.
"Lovely!" called back the Scouts.
"Why don't you come around?" shouted Cleo.
"Busy!" floated back the answer.
"She looks it," Louise remarked, when again they rode slowly, trying
to prolong the minutes.
"Doesn't she? I wonder what keeps her so busy?" This was Julia's
query.
"Well, we can't spy, that's a sure thing," reasoned Cleo, "but I
wouldn't mind knowing what brings her out riding all the time."
"Perhaps she teaches riding over at some of the millionaire places,"
surmised Julia, always prone to be on the safe side.
"Too young," returned Cleo. "Fancy Weasy teaching someone how to
mount!"
"As if I couldn't!"
"Certainly you could, Weasy, but would you? That's the question. Peg
would be about as patient as a chipmunk at giving instructions. And
she seems too practical to go riding so often just for a good time,"
reasoned Cleo.
Campers and "bungalowers" still moving and removing to overcome the
difficulties thrust upon them by the night's storm were now tramping
along the country road, lugging, it seemed, everything from bedding to
ballast, and among the fugitives the riders met a number with whom
they were acquainted.
Hailing to these and offering words of sympathy precluded further
private conversation, so Peg and her riding proclivities were
forgotten for the time.
"I'll take you to your cottages," offered Mrs. Broadbent. "These
horses will trail along obediently when I lead with Baldy."
This offer was eagerly accepted, for the plan would eliminate a walk
from the riding school, and when all had patted their horses and
promised another ride very soon, the afternoon's particular delight
remained only in its joyous memories.
"I would rather ride than do any other single thing," declared Cleo,
watching her pretty horse canter off riderless.
"I love it too," agreed Louise. "But do you know we have to get back
to camp? And I have a suitcase to carry. There's the car! Goody! We'll
all have a ride back."
"Rides and more rides," mused Julia. "I'll be ready in a jiff."
In Cozy Colony all three girls claimed their home ties, and the
cottages were grouped in one prettily wooded territory, where trees
were only sacrificed to make room for a cottage or garage, and where
the rustic beauty of the lake resort was otherwise carefully
preserved.
In the "jiff" specified by Julia the girls again appeared, their linen
riding habits exchanged for fresh Scout uniforms, and while Louise
lugged a suitcase Julia carried a laundry bag, and Cleo was armed with
a rather miscellaneous collection of appurtenances.
Five minutes later they were in camp gushing over the wonderful ride.
"And I took a cake over to Peg," Grace was forced to interrupt to make
known.
Then it was that Peg again became the pivot of their interest and
speculation.