Books: The Outdoor Girls at Rainbow Lake
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Laura Lee Hope >> The Outdoor Girls at Rainbow Lake
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The Outdoor Girls At Rainbow Lake
or
The Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem
by Laura Lee Hope, 1913
_________________________________________________________________
CHAPTER I
A GRAND SURPRISE
"Girls, I've got the grandest surprise for you!"
Betty Nelson crossed the velvety green lawn, and crowded into the
hammock, slung between two apple trees, which were laden with green
fruit. First she had motioned for Grace Ford to make room for her, and
then sank beside her chum with a sigh of relief.
"Oh, it was so warm walking over!" she breathed. "And I did come too
fast, I guess." She fanned herself with a filmy handkerchief.
"But the surprise?" Mollie Billette reminded Betty.
"I'm coming to it, my dear, but just let me get my breath. I didn't
know I hurried so. Swing, Grace."
With a daintily shod foot-- a foot slender and in keeping with her
figure-- Grace gave rather a languid push, and set the hammock to
swaying in wider arcs.
Amy Stonington, who had not joined in the talk since the somewhat
hurried arrival of Betty, strolled over to the hammock and began
peering about in it-- that is, in as much of it as the fluffy skirts
of the two occupants would allow to be seen.
"I don't see it," she said in gentle tones-- everything Amy did was
gentle, and her disposition was always spoken of as "sweet" by her
chums, though why such an inapt word is generally selected to describe
what might better be designated as "natural" is beyond comprehension.
"I don't see it," murmured Amy.
"What?" asked Grace, quickly.
"I guess she means that box of chocolates," murmured Mollie. "It's no
use, Amy, for Grace finished the last of them long before Betty blew
in on us-- or should I say drifted? Really, it's too warm to do more
than drift to-day."
"You finished the last of the candy yourself!" exclaimed Grace, with
spirit. If Grace had one failing, or a weakness, it was for
chocolates.
"I did not!" snapped Mollie. Her own failing was an occasional burst
of temper. She had French blood in her veins-- and not of French lilac
shade, either, as Betty used to say. It was of no uncertain color--
was Mollie's temper-- at times.
"Yes, you did!" insisted Grace. "Don't you remember? It was one with a
cherry inside, and we both wanted it, and---- "
"You got it!" declared Mollie. "If you say I took it---- "
"That's right, Grace, you did have it," said gentle Amy. "Don't you
recall, you held it in one hand behind your back and told Billy to
choose?" Billy was Mollie's "chummy" name.
"That's so," admitted Grace. "And Mollie didn't guess right. I beg
your pardon, Mollie. It's so warm, and the prickly heat bothers me so
that I can hardly think of anything but that I'm going in and get some
talcum powder. I've got some of the loveliest scent-- the Yamma-yamma
flower from Japan."
"It sounds nice," murmured Betty. "But, girls---- "
"Excuse me," murmured Grace, making a struggle to arise from the
hammock-- never a graceful feat for girl or woman.
"Don't! You'll spill me!" screamed Betty, clutching at the yielding
sides of the net. "Grace! There!"
There would have been a "spill" except that Amy caught the swaying
hammock and held it until Grace managed, more or less "gracelessly,"
to get out.
"There's the empty box," she remarked, as it was disclosed where it
had lain hidden between herself and Betty. "Not a crumb left, Amy, my
dear. But I fancy I have a fresh box in the house, if Will hasn't
found them. He's always-- snooping, if you'll pardon my slang."
"I wasn't looking for candy," replied Amy. "It's my handkerchief--
that new lace one; I fancied I left it in the hammock."
"Wait, I'll get up," said Betty. "Don't you dare let go, Amy. I don't
see why I'm so foolish as to wear this tight skirt. We didn't bother
with such style when we were off on our walking tour."
"Oh, blessed tour!" sighed Mollie. "I wish we could go on another
one-- to the North Pole," and she vigorously fanned herself with a
magazine cover.
Betty rose, and Amy found what she was looking for. Grace walked
slowly over the shaded lawn toward her house, at which the three chums
had gathered this beautiful-- if too warm-- July day. Betty, Amy, and
Mollie made a simultaneous dive for the hammock, and managed, all
three, to squeeze into it, with Betty in the middle.
"Oh, dear!" she cried. "This is too much! Let me out, and you girls
can have it to yourselves. Besides, I want to talk, and I can't do it
sitting down very well."
"You used to," observed Amy, smoothing out her rather crumpled dress,
and making dabs at her warm face with the newly discovered
handkerchief.
"The kind of talking I'm going to do now calls for action--
'business,' as the stage people call it," explained Betty. "I want to
walk around and swing my arms. Besides, I can't properly do justice to
the subject sitting down. Oh, girls, I've got the grandest surprise
for you!" Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed; she seemed
electrified with some piece of news.
"That's what you said when you first came," spoke Mollie, "but we
seemed to get off the track. Start over, Betty, that's a dear, and
tell us all about it. Take that willow chair," and Billy pointed to an
artistic green one that harmonized delightfully with the grass, and
the gray bark of an apple tree against which it was drawn.
"No, I'm going to stand up," went on Betty. "Anyhow, I don't want to
start until Grace comes back. I detest telling a thing over twice."
"If Grace can't find that box of chocolates she'll most likely run
down to the store for another," said Amy.
"And that means we won't hear the surprise for ever so long," said
Mollie. "Go on, Bet, tell us, and we'll retell it to Grace when she
comes. That will get rid of your objection," and Mollie tucked back
several locks of her pretty hair that had strayed loose when the
vigorous hammock-action took place.
"No, I'd rather tell it to you all together," insisted Betty, with a
shake of her head. "It wouldn't be fair to Grace to tell it to you two
first. We'll wait."
"I'll go in and ask her to hurry," ventured Amy. She was always
willing to do what she could to promote peace, harmony, and general
good feeling. If ever anyone wanted anything done, Amy was generally
the first to volunteer.
"There's no great hurry," said Betty, "though from the way I rushed
over here you might think so. But really, it is the grandest thing!
Oh, girls, such a time as may be ahead of us this summer!" and she
pretended to hug herself in delight.
"Betty Nelson, you've just got to tell us!" insisted Mollie. "Look
out, Amy, I'm going to get up."
Getting up from a hammock-- or doing anything vigorous, for that
matter-- was always a serious business with quick Mollie. She
generally warned her friends not to "stand too close."
"Never mind, here comes Grace," interrupted Amy. "Do sit still,
Mollie; it's too warm to juggle-- or is it jiggle?-- around so."
"Make it wiggle," suggested Betty.
"Do hurry, Grace," called Mollie "We can't hear about the grand
surprise until you get here, and we're both just dying to know what it
is."
"I couldn't find my chocolates," said Grace, as she strolled
gracefully up, making the most of her slender figure. "I just know
Will took them. Isn't he horrid!"
"Never mind, did you bring the talcum?" asked Amy. "We can sprinkle it
on green apples and pretend it's fruit juice."
"Don't you dare suggest such a thing when my little twins come along,
as they're sure to do, sooner or later," spoke Mollie, referring to
her brother and sister-- Paul and Dora-- or more often "Dodo," aged
four.
They were "regular tykes," whatever that is. Mollie said so, and she
ought to know. "If you gave them that idea," she went on, "we'd have
them both in the hospital. However, they're not likely to come
to-day."
"Why not?" asked Betty, for the twins had a habit of appearing most
unexpectedly, and in the most out-of-the-way places.
"They're over at Aunt Kittie's for the day, and I told mamma I
shouldn't mind if she kept them a week."
"Oh, the dears!" murmured Amy.
"You wouldn't say so if you saw how they upset my room yesterday. I
like a little peace and quietness," exclaimed Mollie. "I love Paul and
Dodo, but-- and she shrugged her shoulders effectively, as only the
French can.
"Here's the talcum," spoke Grace. "I'm sorry about the chocolates.
Wait until I see Will," and she shook an imaginary brother.
"Never mind, dear, it's too hot for candies, anyhow," consoled Betty.
"Pass the talcum," and she reached for the box that Mollie was then
using. "It has the most delightful odor, Grace. Where did you get it?"
"It's a new sample lot Harrison's pharmacy got in. Mr. Harrison gave
me a box to try, and said---- "
"He wanted you to recommend it to your friends, I've no doubt,"
remarked Mollie.
"He didn't say so, but I haven't any hesitation in doing so. I just
love it."
"It is nice," said Amy. "I'm going to get some the next time I go
down-town."
The spicy scent of the perfumed talcum powder mingled with the odor of
the grass, the trees, and the flowers, over which the bees were
humming.
"Come, come, Betty!" exclaimed Mollie, vigorously, when shining noses
had been rendered immune from the effects of the sun, "when do we hear
that wonderful secret of yours?"
"Right away! Make yourselves comfortable. I'm going to walk about, and
get the proper action to go with the words. Now, what did I do with
that letter?" and she looked in her belt, up her sleeve, and in the
folds of her waist.
"Gracious, I hope I haven't lost it!" she exclaimed, glancing about,
anxiously.
"Was it only a letter?" asked Mollie, something of disappointment
manifesting itself in her tones.
"Only a letter!" repeated Betty, with proper emphasis. "Well, I like
the way you say that! It isn't a common letter, by any means."
"Is it from that queer Mr. Blackford, whose five hundred dollar bill
we found when we were on our walking trip?" asked Amy, with strange
recollections of that queer occurrence.
"No, it was from my uncle, Amos Marlin, a former sea captain," was the
answer "A most quaint and delightful character, as you'll all say when
you meet him."
"Then we are going to meet him?" interjected Grace, questioningly.
"Yes, he's coming to pay me a visit."
"Was that the grand surprise?" Amy wanted to know.
"Indeed not. Oh, there's the letter," and Betty caught up a piece of
paper from underneath the hammock. "I'll read it to you. It's quite
funny, and in it he says he's going to give me the grandest surprise
that ever a girl had. It---- "
"But what is the surprise itself?" inquired Mollie.
"Oh, he didn't say exactly," spoke Betty, smoothing out the letter.
"But I know, from the way he writes, that it will be quite wonderful.
Everything Uncle Amos does is wonderful. He's quite rich, and---- "
"Hark!" exclaimed Amy.
A voice was calling:
"Miss Ford! Miss Ford!"
"Yes, Nellie, what is it?" asked Grace, as she saw a maid coming
towards her, beckoning.
"Your brother wants you on the telephone, Miss Ford," answered the
maid, "he says it's quite important, and he wants you to please
hurry."
"Excuse me," flung back Grace, as she hurried off. "I'll be back in a
minute. I hope he's going to confess where he put those chocolates."
CHAPTER II
AFTER THE PAPERS
"Hello, is this you, Will?"
"Yes, this is Grace. What did you do with my chocolates? The girls are
here, and-- Never mind about the chocolates? The idea! I like---- .
What's that? You want to go to the ball game? Will I do your errand
for you? Yes, I'm listening. Go on!"
"It's this way, Sis," explained Will over the wire from a down-town
drug store. "This morning dad told me to go over to grandmother's and
get those papers. You know; the ones in that big property deal which
has been hanging fire so long. Grandmother has the papers in her safe.
The deal is to be closed to-day. I promised dad I'd go, but I forgot
all about it, and now the fellows want me to go to the ball game with
them.
"If you'll go over to grandmother's and get the papers I'll buy you a
two-pound box of the best chocolates-- honest, I will. And you can get
the papers as well as I can. Grandmother expects one of the family
over after them to-day, and she has them all ready.
"You can go just as well as I can-- better, in fact, and dad won't
care as long as he gets the papers. You're to take them to his office.
Will you do it for me, Sis? Come on, now, be a sport, and say yes."
"But it's so hot, and Betty, Amy, and Mollie are here with me. I don't
want to go all the way over to grandmother's after some tiresome old
papers. Besides, it was your errand, anyhow."
"I know it, Sis, but I don't want to miss that game. It's going to be
a dandy! Come on, go for me, that's a good fellow. I'll make it three
pounds."
"No, I'm not going. Besides, it looks like a thunder storm."
"Say, Sis, will you go if I let you ride Prince?"
"Your new horse?" asked Grace, eagerly.
"Yes, you may ride Prince," came over the wire. Will was a good
horseman, but for some time had to be content with rather an ordinary
steed. Lately he had prevailed on his father to get him a new one, and
Prince, a pure white animal, of great beauty, had been secured. It was
gentle, but spirited, and had great speed. Grace rode well, but her
mount did not suit her, and Mr. Ford did not want to get another just
then. Will never allowed his sister to more than try Prince around the
yard, but she was eager to go for a long canter with the noble animal.
Now was the chance she had waited for so long.
"You must want to see that ball game awfully bad, to lend me Prince,"
said Grace.
"I do," answered Will. "But be careful of him. Don't let him have his
head too much or he'll bolt. But there's not a mean streak in him."
"Oh, I know that-- I can manage."
"Then you'll get those papers from grandmother for me, and take them
to dad?"
"Yes, I guess so, though I don't like leaving the girls."
"Oh, you can explain it to them. And you can 'phone down for the
chocolates and have them sent up. Charge them to me. The girls can
chew on them until you come back. It won't take you long on Prince.
And say, listen, Sis!"
"Yes, go on."
"Those papers are pretty valuable, dad said. There are other parties
interested in this deal, and if they got hold of the documents it
might make a lot of trouble."
"Trouble?"
"Yes. But there's not much chance of that. They don't even know where
the papers are."
"All right, I'll get them. Have a good time at the game, Billy boy."
"I will, and look out for Prince. So long!" and Will hung up the
receiver, while Grace over the private wire, telephoned to the groom
to saddle Prince. Then she went out to tell her friends of her little
trip.
And while she is doing this, I will interject a few words of
explanation so that those who did not read the first volume of this
series may have a better understanding of the characters and location
of this story.
The first book was called "The Outdoor Girls of Deepdale; Or, Camping
and Tramping for Fun and Health." In that is given an account of how
the four chums set off to walk about two hundred miles in two weeks,
stopping nights at the homes of various friends and relatives on the
route. At the very outset they stumbled on the mystery of a five
hundred dollar bill, and it was not until the end that the strange
affair was cleared up most unexpectedly.
The four girls were Betty Nelson, a born leader, bright, vigorous and
with more than her share of common sense. She was the daughter of
Charles Nelson, a wealthy carpet manufacturer. Grace Ford, tall,
willowly, and exceedingly pretty, was blessed with well-to-do parents.
Mr. Ford being a lawyer of note, who handled many big cases. Mollie
Billette, was just the opposite type from Grace. Mollie was almost
always in action, Grace in repose. Mollie was dark, Grace fair. Mollie
was quick-tempered-- Grace very slow to arouse. Perhaps it was the
French blood in Mollie-- blood that showed even more plainly in her
mother, a wealthy widow-- that accounted for this. Or perhaps it was
the mischievous twins-- Dodo and Paul-- whose antics so often annoyed
their older sister, that caused Mollie to "flare up" at times.
Amy Stonington was concerned in a mystery that she hoped would some
day be unraveled. For years she had believed that John and Sarah
Stonington were her father and mother, but in the first book I related
how she was given to understand differently.
It appears that, when she was a baby, Amy lived in a Western city.
There came a flood, and she was picked up on some wreckage. There was
a note pinned to her baby dress-- or, rather an envelope that had
contained a note, and this was addressed to Mrs. Stonington. Amy's
mother was Mrs. Stonington's aunt, though the two had not seen each
other in many years.
Whether Amy's parents perished in the flood, as seemed likely, or what
became of them, was never known, nor was it known whether there were
any other children. But Mr. Stonington, after the flood, was
telegraphed for, and came to get Amy. He and his wife had kept her
ever since, and shortly before this story opens they had told her of
the mystery surrounding her. Of course it was a great shock to poor
Amy, but she bore it bravely. She called Mr. and Mrs. Stonington
"uncle" and "aunt" after that.
I described Deepdale and its surroundings in the previous book, so I
will make no more than a passing reference to it here. Sufficient to
say that the town nestled in a bend of the Argono River, a few miles
above where that stream widened out into beautiful and picturesque
Rainbow Lake. Then the river continued on its way again, increasing
into quite a large body of water. On the river and lake plied many
pleasure craft, and some built for trade, in which they competed with
a railroad that connected with the main line to New York. In Rainbow
Lake were a number of islands, the largest-- Triangle-- obviously so
called, being quite a summer resort.
Our four girls lived near each other in fine residences, that of
Mollie's mother being on the bank of the river. Deepdale was a
thriving community, in the midst of a fertile farming section.
The summer sun glinted in alternate shadows and brilliant patches on
Grace Ford as she hurried out to her friends on the lawn, after
receiving the message from her brother Will.
"What happened?" asked Mollie, for it was evident from the expression
on the face of the approaching girl that something out of the ordinary
had been the import of the message.
"Oh, it was Will. He---- "
"Did he 'fess up' about the chocolates?" inquired Mollie.
"No, but he's going to treat us to a three-pound box. I 'phoned down
for them. They'll be here soon, and you girls can enjoy them while I'm
gone."
"Gone!" echoed Betty, blankly. "Where are you going, pray tell?"
"Oh, Will forgot to do something father told him to, and he wants me
to do it for him. Get some rather important papers from Grandmother
Ford. I'm going to ride Prince. I wish you all could come. Will you be
angry if I run away for a little while? I shan't be more than an
hour."
"Angry? Of course not," said Amy, gently. "Besides, it's important;
isn't it?"
"I imagine so, from what Will said. But he has the baseball fever, and
there's no cure for it. So if you don't mind I'll just slip into my
habit, and canter over. Oh, I just love Prince! He's the finest
horse!"
"I'm afraid of horses," confessed Amy.
"I'm not!" declared Betty, who was fond of all sports, and who had
fully earned her title of "Little Captain," which she was often
called. "Some day I'm going to prevail on daddy to get me one."
"I should think you'd rather have an auto," spoke Mollie.
"I may, some day," murmured Betty. "But hurry along, Grace. It looks
as though it might storm. We'll save some of the candy for you."
"You'd better!"
The chocolates came before Grace was ready to start after the papers,
for she discovered a rent in her skirt and it had to be mended. Then,
too, Prince proved a little more restive than had been anticipated,
from not having been out in two days, and the groom suggested that he
take the animal up and down the road on a sharp gallop to give the
excess spirit a chance to be worked off. So Grace saw to it that she
had at least part of her share of chocolates before she left.
"And I have just time to hear the rest about the grand surprise," she
said to Betty, who had been turning and creasing in her hand the
letter her uncle had written.
"I'm afraid I can't go as much into detail as I thought I could,"
confessed Betty. "But I'll read you the letter my old sea-captain
uncle sent me. It begins: 'In port; longitude whatever you like, and
latitude an ice cream soda.' Then he goes on:
"'Dear messmate. Years ago, when you first signed papers to voyage
through life, when you weren't rated as an A. B., you used to have me
spill sea-yarns for you. And you always said you were going to be a
sailor, shiver my timbers, or something like that,-- real sailor-like,
so it sounded.
"'I never forgot this, and I always counted on taking you on a voyage
with me. But your captain-- that is to say your father-- never would
let me, and often the barometer went away down between him and me.
"'Howsomever, I haven't forgotten how you liked the water, nor how
much you wanted a big ship of your own. You used to make me promise
that if ever I could tow the Flying Dutchman into port that you could
have it for a toy. And I promised.
"'Well, now I have the chance to get the Flying Dutchman for you, and
I'm bringing it home, with sails furled so it won't get away. I'm
going to give you a grand surprise soon, and you can pass it on to
your friends. So if you let me luff along for a few more cable lengths
I think I'll make port soon, and then we'll see what sort of a sailor
you'll make. You may expect the surprise shortly.'
"That's all there is to it," concluded Betty, "and I've been puzzling
my brains as to just what the surprise may be."
"He's going to take you on a voyage," said Amy.
"He's bought you some toy ship," was the opinion of Mollie.
"Oh, if he'd only bring a real boat that we could make real a trip
in!" sighed Grace. "That would be-- lovely!"
"Betty Nelson! Write to your uncle right away!" commanded Mollie, "and
find out exactly what he means."
"I can't," sighed Betty. "He's traveling, and one never knows where he
is. We'll just have to wait. Besides, he is so peculiar that he'd just
as likely as not only puzzle me the more. We'll just have to wait;
that's all."
"Well, if it should be some sort of a boat, even a big rowboat, we
could have some fun," asserted Grace.
"Yes, for mine isn't much account," remarked Mollie, who owned a small
skiff on the river.
"I was so excited and amused when I got uncle's letter," said Betty,
"that I didn't know what to do. Mamma puzzled over it, but she
couldn't make any more out of it than I could. So I decided to come
over here."
"I'm glad you did," spoke Grace, holding up her long habit in one hand
and delicately eating a chocolate from the other "There comes James
with Prince. Oh, he's run him too hard!" she exclaimed as she noted
the hard-breathing animal.
"Oh, no, Miss," said the groom, who heard her. "That was only a romp
for him. He'll be much easier to handle now."
He gave Grace a hand to help her mount to the saddle, and adjusted the
stirrups for her.
"Good-bye!" she called, as she cantered off. "Save some of the
chocolates for me," and the others laughingly promised, as they went
back to the shade, to rest in the hammock or lawn chairs.
CHAPTER III
THE RUNAWAY
Grace cantered along the pleasant country road on the back of Prince.
The noble animal had lost some of his fiery eagerness to cover the
whole earth in one jump, and now was mindful of snaffle and curb, the
latter of which Grace always applied with gentle hand. Prince seemed
to know this, for he behaved in such style as not to need the cruel
gripping, which so many horsemen-- and horsewomen too, for that
matter, needlessly inflict.
"Oh, but it is glorious to ride!" exclaimed the girl, as she urged the
animal into a gallop on a soft stretch of road beneath wonderful trees
that interlaced their branches overhead. "Glorious-- glorious!"
"I hope those papers are not so valuable that it would be an object
for-- for some one to try to take them away from me," she mused.
Instinctively she glanced behind her, but the peaceful road was
deserted save for the sunshine and shadows playing tag in the dust.
Then Grace looked above. The sky was of rather a somber tint, that
seemed to suggest a storm to come, and there was a sultriness and a
silence, with so little wind that it might indicate a coming
disturbance of the elements to restore the balance that now seemed so
much on one side.
"But if any one tries to get them away from us, we-- we'll just-- run
away; won't we, Prince?" and she patted the neck of the horse. Prince
whinnied acquiescence.
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