SHAG: THE ALARM CLOCK
Daylight was just peeking through the little crack in the tent flap
when Grace screamed:
"Oh, my! For goodness' sake!" she yelled. "Someone, somebody,
something, Shag wants to kiss my toesies!"
The self starters sat up and looked around--the other groaned.
Yes, there was Shag trying to make friends with anything that moved,
and Grace must have unconsciously moved that foot.
"What do you want, Shag?" she asked.
The big, bushy tail whisked things around rather perilously in the
narrow quarters.
"Shag is an early riser," said Peg, trying to untangle herself from
the things that held her on the rim of a cot. "He wants to run off and
see what's going on outdoors." She patted her dog affectionately, then
allowed him to run out, off over the hills to his own quarters.
But the spell was broken. They were awake, those insatiable girls, and
ready even now to talk to their visitor.
Grace "whispered," but the sibilant swish of sounds seemed more
resonant than an outspoken address might have.
"Don't wake Aunt Carrie," she warned, although _she_ was the alarm
clock going off at that very moment.
"Don't wake Mackey," giggled Louise, after Mackey had thrown a leaky
pine needle pillow at her head.
"And just look at Izzy," begged Cleo. "She's soundproof--like our music
room at school."
"Go on, Peg. Tell us about it," implored Julia. "I dreamed of you and
your shotgun all night."
"I didn't have a shotgun, that was Auntie," replied Peg. "Mine was a
real up-to-date revolver."
"Oh, do tell us!" begged Helen, sitting up and shaking her
spaniel-like mop of hair. It was bobbed, and curly, and altogether
very pretty.
"Did you shoot through the door, or was it through the window?"
mumbled Cleo, determined to have some shooting in the landscape.
Peg laughed merrily. Then she stretched without warning Corene, and
the effect was accidental. When both girls got up from the floor, one
from either side of the extension bed, and when it was finally
conceded that everyone was awake and therefore the water-fall
whispering was no longer necessary, "conversation was resumed,"
according to Grace.
"And we never could have induced you to come, Peg, if something didn't
happen. Yet, from the first we all planned 'to get you,'" she
finished, a tragic note taking care of that final ominous phrase.
"I wanted to come more than you could possibly have wanted me to do
so," said Peg, a trifle seriously. "But you have no idea what a
complicated thing it is for a girl to try to do anything really worth
while."
"Oh, yes--we--have!" drawled Julia. "You should see me try to make a
fire to cook breakfast on damp mornings."
"Not that kind of thing, Julia," warned Grace, fearful that Peg would
be diverted from her story.
"And did men really try to break in your cottage?" asked Helen,
sensation seething.
"It's rather a long story," admitted Peg.
"Go on and tell," begged Louise. "I don't think there is anything so
comfy and cozy as story telling in bed," and she gave the blankets a
premonitory swish that sent a pair of sneaks flying at her neighbor's
head.
"Of course, we don't want to intrude--that is, we don't want to appear
curious about your private business," apologized Cleo, with a painful
attempt at politeness.
"I am just too glad to tell someone," replied Peg. "If you could ever
know what it has been to be misjudged by everybody: to have people
taunting you and to hear all sorts of foolish things said about you----"
"But people up here admire you--very much," insisted Grace. "Old Pete,
the boatman, told us how you rescued the man from the ice last
winter."
"Oh, that," replied Peg. "He wasn't really unconscious, and I had help
to get him on Whirlwind. But you know how fine men are. They are
generous and good-natured. Not like----"
"Say it, Peg! Not like girls! That is what you are thinking and I just
agree with you," spoke up Julia. "We saw how contemptible those flashy
girls were from the very beginning."
"Because they are the daughters of this man who has been claiming
father's rights," replied Peg.
Miss Mackin and Aunt Carrie were now talking in an undertone over in
their end of the tent, so that the girls were quite free to carry on
this disjointed conversation.
"And what happened yesterday after you left the hike picnic?" asked
Cleo.
"When I got back to the cottage there was Leonore Fairbanks trying to
make friends with Shag. If she could have gotten in the cottage, you
see, she hoped to find the drawing and plans for the invention,"
explained Peg. "Then parts of the machine also are hidden in our
house, and if she could have obtained any single part of that machine
the men might have been able to guess at its principle."
"Oh, that was why you kept folks away from your house, was it?" asked
Grace.
"Yes. Daddy charged me to protect all that work of his until I could
turn it over to his brother, my Uncle Edward. He has been abroad and I
expect to hear any day that his steamer is in New York. What a relief
that will be," she sighed.
"What steamer is he on?" inquired Julia.
"The Tourlander. He was in Egypt when daddy died and could not come
until he finished his business there."
"The Tourlander is the very steamer my Aunt Marie is on," said Julia,
"and it was sighted yesterday. Daddy had a message; mother told me
about it when we went for the mail."
"Sighted! Oh, Aunt Carrie, did you hear? The Tourlander is coming in!
It has been sighted!" Peg exclaimed gleefully.
"Really, my dear!" and that message had an electrical effect on Miss
Ramsdell. "If Uncle Edward is coming in we must be stirring. How
strange it all seems? That I should sleep in a tent again! I have
always loved camping, and since Peggie's mother died we spent quite a
lot of time traveling about. You see," she explained to everyone, "my
brother was a geologist, and at one time was employed by the
government to sample ores. That was how he came to be interested in
these hills. He insisted there were valuable zinc veins up here. Come,
Peggie dear, I feel so anxious now. Won't it be splendid if your Uncle
Edward comes just now when things seem to be so critical?"
"We need him, Auntie mine," replied the girl, who was partially
succeeding in freeing herself from the girls who vainly tried to hold
her for a fuller story.
"I'll tell it all to you, every single bit," she promised. "But we
really must hurry back to the log cabin. Suppose we have been
bombarded during the night? Then, what would we do for a house and
home?"
"Oh, we haven't told you we are going to give up camp," exclaimed
Grace. "We really haven't had a chance to tell you anything, Peg."
"Not when you insisted that I do all the talking," replied the other.
"But why are you going to desert camp?"
"In the interest of humanity," said Julia, solemnly. "We are going to
give it to some children who need it more than we do."
"Am I included?" asked Peg. She was almost dressed, and some of the
girls were hurrying to be ready before she left for the hills.
"You simply can't go without breakfast," insisted Miss Mackin. "We
will have coffee ready in less than no time----"
"But here is Shag, back," interrupted Peg. "What is it, boy? What's
going on up there?"
He wagged his tail and "smiled" and flipped his ears. The big collie
tried to lead his young mistress to the outdoors, at least he moved
that way himself and gave Peg a most appealing look from his big,
soft, brown eyes.
"We're coming," Peg answered him. "Girls, it is perfectly delightful
for us to be at camp and I have been envying you this joy all summer,
but if you will excuse us, we are so anxious to get back to our
abandoned home----"
"Are you going to leave your valuables in our safe?" asked Louise.
"I would like to--if it wouldn't worry you too much----"
"Not the least bit. In fact if you leave them we will feel sure of
another call, and that's a big consideration," declared Corene.
Peg laughed lightly. It was full bright daylight now, and the odor of
dewy softness, the breath of things green, permeated camp and grounds
surrounding.
"Don't you want to be introduced to our bucket-brigade washroom?"
asked Louise. "Come along; the line forms on this side," and she
dragged Peg out under the runt oak, where a guest basin, turned upside
down, made a safe pedestal for a twittering robin. He hopped off
politely as the girls tip-toed up.
"That's our Bobbie Robin," said Louise. "We have him almost trained to
eat from a little table Julia erected for him. We place his breakfast
there, and what bird wouldn't eat a fresh cereal even from a tiny
table?"
"Here comes our officer!" exclaimed Peg, as a cracking of leaves gave
warning of approaching footsteps.
"Good morning!" called out the man in blue. "All safe and sound down
here?"
"Perfectly," replied Peg. "Anything new on the hill?"
"Not just this morning, but we had some trouble last night," said the
officer. "You were right about the prowlers. We found a couple of
railroaders hiding behind your barn."
"Are the horses safe?" This query showed Peg's new alarm.
"We made sure of that. I put Tim Morgan right in the cosy little room
there, and Tim was grateful for the bunk. Also, no one could come near
those horses with him on the scene."
"I must hurry back," said Peg to Louise. Others of the girls were now
moving about.
"No need for worry," assured the officer. "These railroad men are the
sort that walk the tracks, you know. They must have been hired to look
over your place, but they're busy looking out of a very small window
about now," and he waved his stick in the direction of Longleigh,
where the little country lock-up was situated.
Aunt Carrie was now out of the tent and ready to go back to the log
cabin. She exchanged questions with the night watchman, and presently
she was saying her thanks and her good-byes, also promising to return
for a real camp meal just as soon as she and Peg could safely leave
the cabin.
"If my uncle comes I shall be as free as your Bobbie Robin," said Peg.
"I intend to turn everything over to him; and what a joy that will
be!"
"Then you could come down here and help us wind up camp?" asked Cleo
eagerly.
"I suppose I could if----"
"You must, my dear," insisted Miss Ramsdell. "You really must take a
holiday."
"But I am somewhat disappointed," said Peg, she was looking over the
mist-veiled hills. "I hoped to have been able to follow out dear dad's
advice----" She stopped suddenly, then shook herself free from the
detaining arms, and promised again to come back to campfire that very
night.
"And tell us all about your blockade?" said Helen.
"You mean stockade, Nellie," said Cleo. "But it is all the same in the
glow of the campfire where all good stories get their magic touch."
"Good-bye!"
"Good-bye!"
And then the guests from the hilltop left.
For a few minutes the Bobbies stood, a little disappointed, but still
expectant.
"I should be afraid to go back to that place," remarked Isabel.
"The officer is going to unlock and search first," said Cleo. "I
wouldn't mind going along to see the fun."
"Just imagine those two people standing ready with guns!" exclaimed
Julia.
"I wouldn't care to trust myself with a tempting little gun,"
confessed Louise. "I have always thought what a temptation it must be
to pull a trigger."
"Like our Fourth of July pistols; so have I," admitted Isabel.
"Girls, do you realize it is almost time for colors?" asked Miss
Mackin. "Suppose we sing a cheery 'Good Morning' to get our brains
cleared up from all the excitement?"
Then the birds in tree and bush flew off, jealous of their woodland
rights, for the Bobbies really could sing, at least sweetly.
The colors were flying and a scent of coffee floated generously about,
when two men on horseback came galloping along and drew rein at the
foot of Comalong hill.
"Hey, there, sissy!" called one, rudely. "Do you know where Peg is?
The girl from the log cabin?"
"Don't answer," warned Miss Mackin quickly. "If they want information,
that is not the way to seek it," and she turned the girls back to the
breakfast table where the "K. P.'s" were already busy serving.
The next moment the riders galloped off, and the Scouts suspected
correctly that one of the men was Francis Fairbanks.