GOOD NEWS
"Oh, father!" gasped Grace, as she slipped into his waiting arms. Hardly
a greeting did she give to Uncle Isaac, but perhaps this was on account
of having spoken to him over the telephone shortly before. "Oh, father!
Where is poor Will?"
"I don't know, Grace," answered Mr. Ford gently. "But don't worry. We
shall find him. How is your mother?"
"Oh, she feels it dreadfully of course. She's been wanting you so much."
"I came as soon as I could. Your Uncle Isaac stopped for me after
telephoning the news to you."
"Yes, I allowed that was the best procedure," said Mr. Ford Sr., he
being the elder brother of the father of Grace. Uncle Isaac spoke with a
slight Southern accent, but not very pronounced, since he had lived most
of his life in the North.
"I'll see your mother first, Grace, and then we'll discuss what's best
to be done," went on Mr. Ford. "It was rather a shock to me."
"Oh, father! I hope nothing has happened to poor Will!" sighed Grace.
"Well, if there has, he brought it on himself," said Uncle Isaac
sharply. "He had a good place with me, and he could have stayed there
and learned the business. Instead of that he chose to act like a----"
"Never mind, Isaac," spoke Mr. Ford quickly. "The thing is done, and
we'll have to make the best of it. Perhaps I acted a bit hastily in
sending him to you."
"It would have done him good if he had stayed with me. But boys are so
foolish."
"And I presume you and I were--at Will's age," said the father. "Well,
I'll go see your mother, Grace, and then I'll be down again. Is someone
here?" and he looked at the rubbers in the hall.
"Yes, Betty, Mollie and Amy."
"Oh, that's all right. You can stay with them until I come down. Isaac,
if you are hungry I'll have some lunch sent up."
"Not for me. I never eat between meals," and Uncle Isaac spoke with
firmness.
As Betty looked out of a crack in the library door she made up her mind
that Mr. Ford's brother seldom did anything "between meals." He seemed
to be a man who lived by hard and fast rules, and he had not the most
kindly face and manner in the world. He was quite a contrast to Grace's
father.
"Maybe that's why Will left him," mused Betty. "I'm sure he looks as if
he would be a hard master. Poor Will!"
"I'll just sit in here and look at the paper," went on Uncle Isaac,
starting toward the library.
"The girls--my chums--are in there," said Grace quickly. "Of course, if
you----"
"Excuse me!" interrupted Uncle Isaac. "I'll meet them later, after your
father and I have straightened out this tangle--if it can be done. I'll
sit in the parlor, though I'm not used to it. No use wearing out the
best carpet. Is anyone in the dining room?"
"They are getting ready for dinner," said Grace with a smile, to which
the elderly man did not respond. "I guess you'll have to go to the
parlor, Uncle Isaac. Of course we'll entertain you, but----"
"No, I'd rather look over the paper. Go along, Jim, and comfort Margaret
all you can. I'm sure it wasn't my fault----"
"Of course not, Isaac. I'll be back presently," and Mr. Ford started for
his wife's room. Grace rejoined her chums, and Uncle Isaac went to the
parlor.
And, while the scene is thus cleared for a moment I will take advantage
of it to make my new readers somewhat better acquainted with the
characters and setting of this story.
The initial volume of this series was "The Outdoor Girls of Deepdale;
Or, Camping and Tramping for Fun and Health," and in that was related
how Betty, Amy, Mollie and Grace had gone on a walking trip, and how
they solved the strange secret of a five hundred dollar bill.
The second book brought our heroines into the midst of summer, and also
saw them started on a voyage in Betty's motor boat. This book, called:
"The Outdoor Girls at Rainbow Lake; Or, the Stirring Cruise of the Motor
Boat _Gem_," had to do, in a measure, with a curious happening on an
island, following the strange loss of some valuable papers, when a horse
Grace was riding ran away with her. And how the papers were
recovered--but there. It would not be "playing the game" to go into
details now.
"The Outdoor Girls in a Motor Car; Or, The Haunted Mansion of Shadow
Valley," was the third book of the series. As the sub-title indicates
there really was a house where strange manifestations took place, and
when Mollie was captured by the "ghost," her chums were very much
alarmed.
The adventures of our friends in the touring car, which Mollie owned,
carried them well into Fall, and when the first snow came, and the girls
had the chance to go to the woods, they took advantage of the
opportunity. In the fourth book, "The Outdoor Girls in a Winter Camp;
Or, Glorious Days on Skates and Ice boats," there was related how a
certain property dispute, involving Mr. Ford, was settled through good
luck favoring the girls. Also how Amy was claimed by a brother, of whose
existence she was unaware.
They had been back from camp some little time now, when the strange
disappearance of Will Ford gave them new food for thought and action.
"Oh, if we only could find him for you, Grace!" exclaimed Betty, when
her chum had returned to the library, after greeting her father. "If we
only could."
"Yes. If only we could pick him up, as we did that five hundred dollar
bill," added Mollie.
"We might," said Amy, half seriously.
And the girls discussed this possibility--one not so remote as might
seem at first, since they had done many strange things of late.
A word or two more before I go on.
The girls, as I have intimated, lived in the city of Deepdale, in the
heart of the Empire State. Deepdale--Dear Deepdale as the girls called
it--lived up to its name. It was a charming town, with some country
features that made it all the nicer. It nestled in a bend of the Argono
River, a stream of some importance commercially.
The four girls I have already named--Grace Ford, Mollie Billette, Betty
Nelson and Amy. In the first volume the latter was Amy Stonington, but a
mystery concerning her had been solved, and a brother who had long
sought her, at last found her. He was Henry Blackford, who was concerned
in the five hundred dollar bill mystery, and he recognized Amy as his
sister in a peculiar way. So Amy Stonington became Amy Blackford, and
Mr. and Mrs. John Stonington, instead of being her uncle and aunt, were
mere strangers to her.
No, not mere strangers, either, for they had not brought her up from a
baby to so easily relinquish her now. They could not bear to give her
up, and as she had no other relatives, except her brother, as far as she
knew, and as he had to travel about considerably in his business, Amy
remained with those she had so long regarded as her parents. She was
very glad to do so.
Betty was the only child, while Grace had, as I have mentioned, a
brother Will. Mollie had a small brother and sister--the twins, Dora (or
"Dodo") and Paul. Her mother was a well-to-do widow, and the parents of
the other girls were wealthy, but made no display of their means.
As I have noted, Will's foolish prank had brought its punishment, though
perhaps he did not merit it as much as did some of his chums. One, Frank
Haley, had been expelled, and another had been suspended for three
weeks. But to Will would seem to have come the heavier punishment, now
that he was away from home, no one knew where.
Mr. Ford came down from his wife's room. Grace glided out to him.
"How is she?" the girl inquired.
"I have made her feel a little easier," he announced. "Now we will hear
what Uncle Isaac has to say."
It was not a great deal.
"I put Will right to work, as you directed me, Jim," the visitor said to
his brother. "Work is good for boys, and I started him at the bottom of
the ladder. That's what you wanted; wasn't it?"
"Well, I did think so at the time, after he got into that scrape," said
Mr. Ford. "I was pretty well provoked, but I begin to think now I was a
bit too harsh with him."
"Nonsense!" snorted Uncle Isaac. "Harshness is good for boys. I wasn't
any harsher on him than on any of the boys that work in my mill. I made
him toe the mark--that's all."
"But Will has a sensitive nature," said his father slowly. "Did he give
any intimation that he was going to leave?"
"Not a bit. He did his work well--that is, as well as any boys do. None
of 'em are much good."
Grace caught her breath. She started to say something, but her father,
by a slight motion of his head, stopped her.
"Will stayed at my home, you know," went on Uncle Isaac. "I did the best
by him I knew. I didn't let him out nights, I made him read good and
helpful books like 'Pilgrims Progress,' and others of the kind, and I
kept him from the moving pictures.
"Well the first thing I knew he wasn't in his room when I went to call
him one morning, and there was this note."
He held it out. Mr. Ford read it eagerly. All it said was:
"I can't stand it any longer. I'm going to quit."
"And he had packed up his things and left," went on Uncle Isaac. "I was
dumbfounded, I was. I didn't think it was much use to hunt for him as I
thought he'd come right home. He had some money--you know you gave him
some."
Mr. Ford nodded.
"I didn't write, as I calculated on coming up North," went on Uncle
Isaac. "Then when I telephoned, and found Will hadn't come home, I
didn't know what to think."
"Nor I either," said Mr. Ford, "when you stopped in at my office and
told me. When did he leave your house?"
"It will be a week to-morrow."
"And never a word from him in all that time," mused the father. "I don't
like it."
Grace felt her eyes filling with tears. Betty patted her hand.
"Well, something will have to be done," said Mr. Ford with a sigh.
"Isaac, let's talk this over, and see what we can do. I may have to go
to Atlanta to straighten this out. I don't believe Will would
deliberately set out to cause us worry."
"I'm sure he wouldn't!" declared Grace, eagerly.
Her father and uncle left to go to Mr. Ford's private office in the
house, for he was a lawyer, and kept a large library at home. The girls
sat in the main library, looking at one another with sad eyes.
"Oh, isn't it too bad--just after we had such fun in our winter camp!"
exclaimed Grace. "Poor Will! It does seem as if there was nothing happy
in this world any more."
"Oh, don't feel that way!" protested Betty. "Come, have you girls no
good news to cheer her up with?" she asked, looking at Mollie and Amy.
"I'm afraid I haven't--unless it's to tell the latest funny thing Dodo
and Paul did," spoke Mollie. "And I detest telling of children's
pranks."
"How about you, Amy? Can't you cheer up Grace?"
"Well, I did mean to tell you when I came in; but seeing Grace so upset
I almost forgot it," said Amy.
"Forgot what?" asked Betty with a smile. "Girls, I am almost sure it's
something good, Amy has such a quiet way with her that she always has
unexpected pleasure for us."
"I don't know whether this will be pleasure or not," went on Amy with a
blush, "but Uncle Stonington (I'm going to call him that, though he is
no relation)" she interjected, "Uncle Stonington has bought an orange
grove in Florida, and we can have all the oranges we want. If that's
good news," she finished.
"It is--fine!" declared Mollie.
"And we were talking about it to-day," resumed the quiet girl, "and he
said perhaps he would take Aunty down there to stay until spring, as her
health is not very good. And I'll probably go----"
"Oh, Amy!"
It was a protesting chorus.
"And I mentioned you girls, and Uncle Stonington said I could bring you
down--if you'd come--all of you--to a Florida orange grove."
"Amy Stonington--I mean Blackford--I'm just going to hug you!" cried
Betty. "Go! Of course we'll go!"
"After we find Will," put in Grace in a low voice.