DOWN THE SLIDES
“My watch! I’ve lost it!” Jean’s cry of distress made Douglas face
about.
“Your watch? Why, it’s gone, isn’t it!” he exclaimed.
“What’s the matter?” called Cecily, rushing down to them.
“My darling watch! I’ve lost it!” wailed Jean.
“Oh, Jean! And it was such a love! How _did_ you lose it?” cried Cecily.
“I lost it because I was an idiot! I knew the pin wasn’t firm, but I
thought it would hold. Oh, why was I so silly? Oh, dear! I’ll never find
it! Carol!” as Carol and Eunice came running down the trail, “I’ve lost
my watch!”
“Jean! Your beautiful watch!” The older girls joined in the mourning.
“Oh, we’ll find it,” said Douglas. “I’ll go back and hunt.”
“I’m going with you,” said Jean.
“I am, too,” said Cecily.
“So am I,” said Carol.
“I suppose I _can’t_, then!” said Eunice. “I’ll have to run on and tell
Bunny. She’ll be frightened out of her five senses if she finds us all
mysteriously vanished! Don’t stay long up there. If you don’t find it
quickly, come right down, or we’ll send the whole force of guides after
you. The boys can go and look for it to-morrow. But you _must_ get back
before dark. Take good care of them, Douglas!”
The rest of the party were well in advance. Frances, ambitious to reach
home first, had scurried on ahead, pursued by Jack and Betty. Fräulein,
who was never at ease when the Mouse was out of sight, had sped after
the runaways. Eunice now hurried after Fräulein, while Douglas and Jean,
Carol and Cecily, retraced their steps to the top. The three men and the
guide whom they had seen on the summit passed them as they went up, and
in reply to their questioning said they had seen nothing of the missing
treasure. They had met a man near the slides; maybe he had picked it up.
“I’m going to hunt around in that cave,” said Jean, as they reached the
top. “I remember how I kept catching on the bushes when I was crawling
in.”
“We’d better divide up, two and two, and hunt in different places,” said
Carol. She and Cecily turned away to find the clump of balsams where the
rhymes had been written.
Jean and Douglas searched the cave in vain, and coming back walked along
the edge of the precipice, studying every step of their path. No tiny
crystal face or golden disk appeared, and no happy cry of “Found!” came
from the other searchers.
“Hello! There’s a man down there on the slides!” Douglas suddenly cried
out.
“Oh! Do you think that’s the man we saw?”
“Get out the glass,” said Douglas.
Jean had slung Eunice’s field-glass across her shoulder for the homeward
tramp. She whipped it from the case and tried to keep her gaze steadily
fastened on the figure far below.
“I’m sure it is!” she cried. “Only the glass wiggles so! I can’t keep it
still! _You_ look.” Douglas took the glass, and while he gazed in his
turn, Jean watched the man breathlessly. He had stepped out from the
trees bordering the edge of the middle slide, and was standing on the
great central expanse of rock.
“Isn’t it he?” asked Jean.
“Can’t tell from here, but it looks like him, and I bet he’s got your
watch!” said Douglas.
Jean started. “Douglas, I _know_ he has! Oh, look! He’s going down!”
They saw the man drop down upon all-fours, crawl out to the middle of
the slide, and then, crouching, coast downward.
“I wonder where the old sneak was hiding all the time!” said Douglas.
“Took a nap in that cave, maybe. You old rascal, we’ll send detectives
after you if we don’t find that watch. He doesn’t know there’re two
detectives looking at him now through a glass, does he? Thinks he can
sneak off and nobody spot him!”
They watched the coaster slide and stop, and slide and stop.
“‘Break a leg, Tony, do!
Also an arm or two!’”
quoted Douglas.
“Oh, don’t! He might!” said Jean.
“Why, don’t you want him to? My dear sir,
‘We’d breathe more free
if thou in jail shouldst be!’”
A moment later Jean gave a sharp cry. The man was falling. His feet had
shot out from under him, and he was sliding swiftly, helplessly down
that terrible sweep of rock to rocks more terrible below. Jean drew back
and shut her eyes. All at once there came a glad cry from Douglas. “He’s
stopped! He’s caught!” Jean looked again. Some ridge of rock must have
checked the man in his rush to almost certain death, and there he lay,
nearly at the bottom of the central slide. Douglas looked through the
glass and saw the man move as if trying to rise, then drop back and lie
motionless.
“I’m afraid he’s awfully hurt,” said the boy. “I’ll have to go down to
him.”
“Oh, Douglas, don’t! Don’t go down!”
“I’ll have to. He’s hurt, or he wouldn’t he still like that. I can’t
leave him there all alone.”
“But I’m sure it’s Tony!”
“What if it is? He’s hurt, and there’s nothing to do but go down and
help him.”
“But he may not really be much hurt, and he might hurt _you_!”
“Don’t worry—I’ll be all right.”
“But you might fall!”
“Not with tennis shoes. Can you take home the guide-basket?”
“Yes, but listen! You know I want to save him, just as much as you do!
But why can’t we hurry down and send out guides to help him instead? You
can’t do any good. You can’t carry him down the slides all by yourself!”
“Well, I can’t leave him there alone, anyhow. If he’s too much hurt to
go on down, I’ll wigwag up to you, and then you hurry along and send the
guides after us.”
Obscured by the bushes, but lying directly below them, was the top
slide, that almost perpendicular wall, and Douglas took a step downward
through the balsams. Jean caught his arm.
“Douglas, stop! You’re not going down _that_ way!”
“Yes, I am. It’s the quickest. Don’t be so scary. I’ll hang on to the
bushes along the edge, and I’ll be all right. Good-by—take care of
yourself.”
“Good-by, Douglas. I’ll wait here, and then if you signal, I’ll _tear_
down and get the guides.”
Jean watched him plunge in among the balsams; then she turned. In the
distance she saw Carol and Cecily, all unconscious of what had happened.
She called to them.
“Have you found it?” called Cecily, and she and Carol came up on a run.
“Tony’s fallen down the slides and Douglas has gone after him!” was
Jean’s greeting.
Carol and Cecily rushed to look over the precipice. “He’s killed!” cried
Cecily, as she saw the motionless figure below.
“No, he’s not; but he’s hurt, and Douglas has started down right over
the slide here! I couldn’t stop him. He would go!”
“Isn’t that just like a boy, to choose the wildest way to do a thing!”
exclaimed Carol. “Oh, dear, I hope he knows what he’s about! Where’s
that place we saw the top slide from?” They hurried to a spot where the
bushes no longer hid the slide from their view, and saw the boy
cautiously descending the danger-path.
“Oh, look! That man’s moving! He’s sitting up!” cried Jean, suddenly,
looking through the field-glass. She handed it to Carol.
“Now he’s lying down again. He must have broken a leg,” said Carol.
By this time Douglas had reached the end of the first slide. He pushed
through the bushes at its foot and came out on the central one. The
glass passed from hand to hand as they watched his progress. Without a
misstep he reached his goal, and they saw him drop down by the man’s
side. They waited for him to wave for help, but the signal did not come.
“They’re going down!” cried Jean. Without rising, the man began to let
himself down slowly, Douglas walking at his side. Hurt or not, he was
able to make his way downward, and the sure-footed boy kept close to
him. They disappeared for a while among the low trees and boulders
separating the slides. But Douglas came into view again, and suddenly
the man was standing erect beside him. The next moment only _one_ was
standing there. A cry of horror broke from the girls. Douglas had fallen
and was plunging down over the cruel rocks, down the cliff to the forest
at its base.
“Tony struck him! I saw him! He struck him!” Carol’s voice was tense and
strained, and she was white to the lips. Looking through the field-glass
she had seen what the others had not, and the glass had almost fallen
from her hands in the shock. The man who had struck the blow she no
longer doubted was Tony Harrel.
“He’s killed him! Oh, Carol! He’s killed him!” cried Jean, clinging in
an agony to the older girl.
“Oh, Carol, do you think he’s dead?” asked Cecily, trembling and
awestruck.
“No, no!” answered Carol. “I _won’t_ think _that_! But he must be
fearfully hurt. There’s only one thing to do! I must go down to him!”
“Oh, Carol, no!” began Cecily.
“Yes I must. It’s the only thing to do. You and Jean must go home as
fast as you can, and send back guides to help us. Can you find your way
down the mountain alone?”
“Yes, yes,” said Cecily. “But you mustn’t go down, Carol. You’ll kill
yourself! Oh, _don’t_!”
“I’m going with you, Carol!” cried Jean. “Let Cecily go for the guides.
I won’t let you go alone. Tony might kill you!”
“No, Jean, you must _not_ go with me! If Cecily goes alone she may lose
her way, or fall, and nobody’ll know what’s happened to any of us; but
if you go together you can help one another.”
“No, I’m going down to Douglas, too! I _will_ go! I _will_! You _shan’t_
stop me!” Jean declared passionately.
Carol laid her hands on Jean’s shoulders, and looked into the wild,
frightened eyes. Her girlish face had grown stern in its resolution, and
Jean felt the power of that steadfast gaze. “You _must_ obey me!” she
said. “It’s the only way to save his life.”
“But don’t go down those frightful slides, Carol!” pleaded Cecily.
“Can’t you keep in the woods all the way? Tony might try to hurt you!”
“No, he won’t. There’s not the slightest danger. He wouldn’t _dare_ to
touch me! I’m not one bit afraid of him.”
“Oh, look! look!” exclaimed Jean. “There he goes now!”
The boulder from which Douglas had fallen was not far from the border of
the slide, and the man, instead of continuing the descent of the cliff,
had crawled rapidly among the rocks and bushes to the edge. Now they saw
him rise up and disappear into the woods.
“There now!” said Carol. “You see he’s gone another way. I’m going down
the slides—if a boy can do it, _I_ can! I’ll only keep in the woods till
I get to the middle slide; then I shan’t meet him at all. Now, Jean,
give in. Every moment we waste here counts!”
“I want to go _with_ you!” cried Jean piteously. “Cecily won’t be hurt;
she’ll catch up with the others. But you’re my sister—if you’re killed,
I want to be killed, too! Let me go with you!”
“Jean, darling,” said Carol, “don’t you love me enough to do the only
thing that will help me? If you want to save _me_, as well as Douglas,
do what I say and get the guides.”
“Oh, Jean, _do_ come!” Cecily begged. “We’ve got to obey orders.”
“Yes—I will—I’ll go for the guides.” The words came hard, but Jean had
yielded.
“Now then,” said Carol, “we haven’t a minute to lose. Give me your
handkerchiefs, girls—I must have something for bandages—and your
ribbons—your belts—your neckties—anything to bind!” While she spoke she
was examining the contents of the guide-basket. “Here’s Fräulein’s
cloak—that’s good—and the pail—I’ll need it for water. Douglas said
there was a brook down there.”
“Take my sweater, too,” said Jean.
“And mine,” said Cecily.
“Yes, I’ll tie them around my waist. Put the other things in the
basket.” They packed the basket with lightning haste and fastened it to
her shoulders. “Now, girls,” she said, “don’t stop another second!”
“Carol, go slowly,” begged Jean. “Don’t slip! Be careful! For _my_
sake!”
“I will. Good-by!”
Jean and Cecily threw one look at Carol starting fearlessly on her way.
Then they darted over the mountain-top to the trail. Down it they ran
recklessly, making good speed at first. But the running and jumping over
roots and stones proved too much for one of Cecily’s overtaxed shoes.
The sole broke, and after that there was no more hurrying. Poor Cecily
could only shuffle painfully along, and they lost all hope of overtaking
the others. It seemed as if they spent hours and hours upon that trail,
and by the time they reached the base of the mountain night appeared to
have fallen already, so dark were the woods. But at last they were out
of the forest, and on the road, where it was only dusk. A long walk was
still before them, but they plodded on bravely until, the weary
pilgrimage over, they saw the lighted windows of Chipmunk Lodge. Mrs.
Brook, Fräulein and Eunice were on the doorstep anxiously awaiting them.
“Children, are you here at last?” cried Mrs. Brook.
“Where are Carol and Douglas?” asked Fräulein and Eunice together.
“Don’t be frightened, Mother; we had to come back alone,” Cecily began,
as they stepped into the living-room.
“Tony knocked Douglas down the slides, and Carol’s gone down after him!”
interrupted Jean.
“Stop, Jean, you’re frightening Mother! Let _me_ tell,” said Cecily.
Betty, Frances and Stella had sprung from the fireside, and there was a
confusion of questioning.
“Girls, you must keep quiet till Cecily can tell us what has happened,”
said Mrs. Brook. And calmed by her mother’s comforting presence, Cecily
told the story.
Poor Stella knelt on the hearth, her cold hand locked in Jean’s. “_It
was Tony!_” she suddenly burst out. “I’m _sure_ it was! I saw a man
around here last night, but it was so dark I couldn’t tell who it was.
And, oh, I remember I told Douglas I hoped he wouldn’t get lost on those
Gothics! Tony must have heard me—and that’s how he knew Douglas was
going up! He always hated him!”
“These children must have their supper right away,” said Mrs. Brook,
when the story was ended. “Bring it here, and let them have it by the
fire, girls. I must go after the guides.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Frances. She lighted a lantern, and they set
out for the guides’ headquarters.
“Fräulein,” said Eunice, “let’s go and tell Court. He’ll know what to
do. I’m sure he’ll want to start right off, himself, to find them.” She
brought another lantern, and, with Fräulein, hurried down the dark hill
to Court’s lodgings.
Half an hour later Mrs. Brook and Frances came back, ready to despair.
All the guides were out, and of those expected home that night no
tidings had as yet been received. There was nothing to be done but wait
for Court; and Mrs. Brook ordered the worn-out girls to bed.
“Let me stay up with you,” Stella pleaded. “I _couldn’t sleep_! And
there’s nothing else I can do to help.”
Mrs. Brook looked into the white, imploring face. “Yes, Stella,” she
answered, “you may stay, but no one else.”
“I’ll go upstairs, but I _can’t_ go to bed,” said Jean. “I _must_ be up
when they bring Carol and Douglas back. I don’t care if I _am_ tired
out! It was all my fault for losing my watch!” She went up to her room,
threw herself down on her cot, and tossed about in her misery.
It was after midnight when she heard the door open and Court’s voice
saying, “Here we are!” She sprang from her bed in sudden hope and dashed
downstairs. It was only Fräulein and Eunice he had brought.
“Aunt Alice, it’s been an outrageous delay!” he said. “But we’re only
just back from our tramp. We’re all ready to start now, though. I’m
going to take the guide we had to-day and go to the top and then down
the slides, and Clinton and some other fellows are going to follow up
along Rainbow Brook to meet us. Give me a wrap for Carol. We’ve got
everything else.”
His aunt handed him her own heavy cloak, and some luncheon that she had
prepared.
“Do you think you’ll save them?” asked Jean faintly.
“Save them? Of course!” answered Court. “Douglas is a great strapping
fellow—he can stand anything! And Carol, why, I’d trust her to climb the
Matterhorn! Cheer up,” he called back, as he went out. “We’ll have them
home before you know it!”
“We must all go to bed now, and get what rest we can,” said Mrs. Brook.
Very tenderly she kissed the three sad-faced girls, Eunice, Jean and
Stella.
There was nothing to wait for now. Jean went forlornly upstairs again,
and buried her face in her pillow. Court’s words had cheered her only
for a moment. “It was all my carelessness!” she sobbed, in a passion of
tears, the bitterest she had ever shed. “I’ve killed Douglas—and I’ve
killed my Carol! Oh, Carol, you darling, you darling!”