"Not for me. I never eat between meals," and Uncle Isaac spoke withfirmness.
As Betty looked out of a crack in the library door she made up her mindthat Mr. Ford's brother seldom did anything "between meals." He seemedto be a man who lived by hard and fast rules, and he had not the mostkindly face and manner in the world. He was quite a contrast to Grace'sfather.
"Maybe that's why Will left him," mused Betty. "I'm sure he looks as ifhe 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, ifyou----"
"Excuse me!" interrupted Uncle Isaac. "I'll meet them later, after yourfather and I have straightened out this tangle--if it can be done. I'llsit in the parlor, though I'm not used to it. No use wearing out thebest carpet. Is anyone in the dining room?"
"They are getting ready for dinner," said Grace with a smile, to whichthe elderly man did not respond. "I guess you'll have to go to theparlor, Uncle Isaac. Of course we'll entertain you, but----"
"No, I'd rather look over the paper. Go along, Jim, and comfort Margaretall you can. I'm sure it wasn't my fault----"
"Of course not, Isaac. I'll be back presently," and Mr. Ford started forhis wife's room. Grace rejoined her chums, and Uncle Isaac went to theparlor.
And, while the scene is thus cleared for a moment I will take advantageof it to make my new readers somewhat better acquainted with thecharacters 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 relatedhow Betty, Amy, Mollie and Grace had gone on a walking trip, and howthey solved the strange secret of a five hundred dollar bill.
The second book brought our heroines into the midst of summer, and alsosaw 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 MotorBoat _Gem_," had to do, in a measure, with a curious happening on anisland, following the strange loss of some valuable papers, when a horseGrace was riding ran away with her. And how the papers wererecovered--but there. It would not be "playing the game" to go intodetails now.
"The Outdoor Girls in a Motor Car; Or, The Haunted Mansion of ShadowValley," was the third book of the series. As the sub-title indicatesthere really was a house where strange manifestations took place, andwhen Mollie was captured by the "ghost," her chums were very muchalarmed.
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 girlshad the chance to go to the woods, they took advantage of theopportunity. In the fourth book, "The Outdoor Girls in a Winter Camp;Or, Glorious Days on Skates and Ice boats," there was related how acertain property dispute, involving Mr. Ford, was settled through goodluck favoring the girls. Also how Amy was claimed by a brother, of whoseexistence she was unaware.
They had been back from camp some little time now, when the strangedisappearance of Will Ford gave them new food for thought and action.
"Oh, if we only could find him for you, Grace!" exclaimed Betty, whenher chum had returned to the library, after greeting her father. "If weonly could."
"Yes. If only we could pick him up, as we did that five hundred dollarbill," added Mollie.
"We might," said Amy, half seriously.
And the girls discussed this possibility--one not so remote as mightseem 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 theheart of the Empire State. Deepdale--Dear Deepdale as the girls calledit--lived up to its name. It was a charming town, with some countryfeatures that made it all the nicer. It nestled in a bend of the ArgonoRiver, a stream of some importance commercially.
The four girls I have already named--Grace Ford, Mollie Billette, BettyNelson and Amy. In the first volume the latter was Amy Stonington, but amystery concerning her had been solved, and a brother who had longsought her, at last found her. He was Henry Blackford, who was concernedin the five hundred dollar bill mystery, and he recognized Amy as hissister in a peculiar way. So Amy Stonington became Amy Blackford, andMr. and Mrs. John Stonington, instead of being her uncle and aunt, weremere strangers to her.
No, not mere strangers, either, for they had not brought her up from ababy to so easily relinquish her now. They could not bear to give herup, and as she had no other relatives, except her brother, as far as sheknew, and as he had to travel about considerably in his business, Amyremained with those she had so long regarded as her parents. She wasvery glad to do so.
Betty was the only child, while Grace had, as I have mentioned, abrother 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 ofthe other girls were wealthy, but made no display of their means.
As I have noted, Will's foolish prank had brought its punishment, thoughperhaps he did not merit it as much as did some of his chums. One, FrankHaley, had been expelled, and another had been suspended for threeweeks. But to Will would seem to have come the heavier punishment, nowthat 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 hearwhat 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 tohis brother. "Work is good for boys, and I started him at the bottom ofthe ladder. That's what you wanted; wasn't it?"
"Well, I did think so at the time, after he got into that scrape," saidMr. Ford. "I was pretty well provoked, but I begin to think now I was abit too harsh with him."
"Nonsense!" snorted Uncle Isaac. "Harshness is good for boys. I wasn'tany harsher on him than on any of the boys that work in my mill. I madehim toe the mark--that's all."
"But Will has a sensitive nature," said his father slowly. "Did he giveany intimation that he was going to leave?"
"Not a bit. He did his work well--that is, as well as any boys do. Noneof '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 bestby him I knew. I didn't let him out nights, I made him read good andhelpful books like 'Pilgrims Progress,' and others of the kind, and Ikept him from the moving pictures.
"Well the first thing I knew he wasn't in his room when I went to callhim 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 wasdumbfounded, I was. I didn't think it was much use to hunt for him as Ithought he'd come right home. He had some money--you know you gave himsome."
Mr. Ford nodded.
"I didn't write, as I calculated on coming up North," went on UncleIsaac. "Then when I telephoned, and found Will hadn't come home, Ididn't know what to think."
"Nor I either," said Mr. Ford, "when you stopped in at my office andtold 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'tlike 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 goto Atlanta to straighten this out. I don't believe Will woulddeliberately 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 thehou
se, for he was a lawyer, and kept a large library at home. The girlssat 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 happyin this world any more."
"Oh, don't feel that way!" protested Betty. "Come, have you girls nogood 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 Dodoand Paul did," spoke Mollie. "And I detest telling of children'spranks."
"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 upsetI almost forgot it," said Amy.
"Forgot what?" asked Betty with a smile. "Girls, I am almost sure it'ssomething good, Amy has such a quiet way with her that she always hasunexpected pleasure for us."
"I don't know whether this will be pleasure or not," went on Amy with ablush, "but Uncle Stonington (I'm going to call him that, though he isno relation)" she interjected, "Uncle Stonington has bought an orangegrove in Florida, and we can have all the oranges we want. If that'sgood news," she finished.
"It is--fine!" declared Mollie.
"And we were talking about it to-day," resumed the quiet girl, "and hesaid perhaps he would take Aunty down there to stay until spring, as herhealth 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 youdown--if you'd come--all of you--to a Florida orange grove."
"Amy Stonington--I mean Blackford--I'm just going to hug you!" criedBetty. "Go! Of course we'll go!"
"After we find Will," put in Grace in a low voice.
CHAPTER III
WILL'S LETTER
Amy's announcement--unexpected as it was--had two effects. It dispelled,for a time, the gloom that had come with the news of Will Ford'sdisappearance, and it gave the girls something to talk about, tospeculate over and to plan for.
"I must confess," admitted Betty, "that our strenuous life this Fall andSummer, living in the outdoors, has unfitted us for the hum-drum sort ofexistence that used to satisfy us. We seem to want some excitement allthe while now."
"That's so," agreed Mollie. "But outdoor life is a little too chillingthese days."
There had been a series of storms and cold weather in Deepdale, eversince the girls had returned from the logging camp.
"But it must be perfectly lovely in Florida now," spoke Grace, who foundthat by joining in the conversation she did not think so much about hermissing brother. "The weather there in our winter season is delightful.Where is Mr. Stonington's orange grove, Amy--near Palm Beach?"
"No, it is somewhere in the Indian River section, I believe. I don'tknow just where."
"And do you really mean to say you can take us there?" asked Betty. "Oh,you're a dear!"
"Uncle Stonington said he would be glad if I could take you girls," saidAmy. "He got the grove through some sort of a business deal. He doesn'tknow anything about raising oranges, but there are men in charge who do.There is quite a big sort of place--a ranch I believe they call it."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Betty. "Ranches are only in the West. They areinhabited by--cow-punchers," and she seemed very proud of her knowledge.
"Why do they have to punch the cows?" asked Mollie. "Westerners use suchfunny words."
"Oh, they don't really punch them," said Grace. "I've heard Will and theboys talk about it. It's just a name. But there are no ranches inFlorida."
"Well, then it's just a plain orange grove," said Amy. "There is a largehouse, some bungalows and other buildings. And there is a river and alake----"
"My motor boat!" cried Betty.
"What's the matter with it?" demanded Mollie. "Do you see it?"
"No, but I wonder if we could take it along?"
"I'll ask Uncle Stonington," said Amy. "I'm sure you can. Oh, I do hopeyou girls can go! Do you think you can?"
"I'm going--if I have to walk!" declared Betty. "I can send my boat byfreight, and we can have the most delightful times ever! Oh, Amy!" andshe hugged her chum again.
"I'm not sure I can go," observed Grace, slowly. "If poor Will is introuble----"
"We'll get him out!" cried Mollie. "Of course you'll go. And I'll go,too! We'll all go. We'll be outdoor girls down where there's no winter!"
"It sounds--enticing," murmured Grace, who did not like the coldweather. "Think of orange blossoms----"
"And brides!" completed Betty. "Oh, girls!"
"Silly!" chimed in Mollie.
"Is Mrs. Stonington very ill?" asked Betty. "You said something abouther going down there."
"She is not at all well," spoke Amy. "Uncle Stonington is quite worriedabout her. I think when it came to getting the orange grove he took itas much on her account as on his own. The doctor said the air down therewould do her good."
"Is it as bad as that?" asked Mollie, in a low voice.
"Well, she is not at all well," Amy replied. "But we all have hopes thata change will benefit her. I do hope you girls will come with me. I'llbe so lonesome without you."
"Oh, we'll come," said Mollie, with much confidence.
They talked of the Florida possibilities at some length, and Betty was abit anxious as to how she could get her motor boat down to the Land ofthe Everglades.
"You'll have to consult that sea-going uncle of yours," suggestedMollie.
"Perhaps I shall," Betty agreed, with a smile.
"Papa and Uncle Isaac are rather long," complained Grace. "I wonder whatthey are going to do?"
"If your father has to go South I'm sure Uncle Stonington would be gladto have him stop at the orange grove," said Amy.
"I don't know that he'd have time," remarked Grace. "If he has to searchfor poor Will----"
She was interrupted by the footsteps of her father and uncle as theycame from the private library. Mr. Ford--as I shall indicate Grace'sfather--was speaking.
"Well, I don't see anything to do but to take a trip down there," hesaid. "When I'm on the ground I can decide what course to take. Writingis only nervous work. And yet I don't see how I can spare the time now."
"Perhaps I could manage for you," said Uncle Isaac. "If I find Will Ican bring him back to the mill, and make him work harder than ever. Hardwork----"
"No, no!" exclaimed Mr. Ford, quickly. "I think Will has been punishedenough. I want to get him home, and then we'll map out a course ofprocedure. Perhaps I gave him too heavy a sentence," and, almostunconsciously, he glanced at his brother.
Certainly Mr. Ford, Sr., looked like an inexorable judge who would exactthe last farthing of a debt, or the final round of punishment. Will hadevidently had no easy time.
"Well, I must think about this Southern trip," went on Will's father."Why, you girls look as though you had been talking secrets!" heexclaimed, not wanting to inflict too much of his family troubles on thevisitors.
"We have!" cried Betty. "You are not the only one going South, Mr.Ford. We may go too."
"Go South? What do you mean?" he asked.
"Mr. Stonington has purchased an orange grove in Florida," Betty wenton, "and Amy has asked us all down there. Do, please, say that Grace cango!" and she blew him a kiss, for the four chums shared their parentsand friends as they did their--well, let us say--chocolates.
"Florida," spoke Mr. Ford, musingly. "I wonder if, by any chance, Willcould have gone there? Many young men go down South in the winter towork as waiters in the big hotels. But I hardly think he would be sofoolish. Well, of course if Grace wants to go----"
"I do want to, Daddy, but poor Will----"
"Oh, I'll find him. He has just gone off on some little trip, perhaps.Very likely he has written to us and the letter has miscarried. Or hemay be carrying it around in his pocket, thinking he has mailed it. Yes,I think you may go, Grace, if the others do. Don't worry about yourbrother. We'll h
ave trace of him soon."
"I'm sure we all hope so," said Mollie, impulsively. "We are thinking oftaking Betty's boat down with us."
"A good idea. I wish I could go. And it is fortunate that, on account ofa change in the school system, you will not miss a term." For followinga shift in the educational work of Deepdale, had come a reconstructionof the system. The outdoor girls were sufficiently advanced to permit oftheir taking several months' vacation, and still remain up to thestandard required by the State regents.
"And to think of going to Florida!" cried Betty, as she walked about theroom. "I know we shall just love it there."
"Young folks waste a lot more time than I did when I was young," saidMr. Ford, Sr., with a sniff.
"Perhaps we should have been better off if we had 'wasted' a little moretime, as you call it," remarked his brother, as he thought of hismissing son.
"Humph!" snorted Uncle Isaac.
"Well, let's get down to my office," suggested Will's father, after apause. "I'm going to have my hands full. To trace a missing boy--thoughreally I don't imagine that will be serious--and have a daughter go toFlorida is 'going some,' as the boys say. But I guess I can manage it.Now, Isaac, if you're ready----"
He was interrupted by a ring at the bell, and the shrill call of thepostman's whistle.
"I'll go," Grace exclaimed, intercepting the maid. She brought backseveral letters, and at the sight of the handwriting on the envelope ofone she exclaimed:
"It's from Will! It's from my brother. Oh, Daddy, here's a letter fromWill!"
The Outdoor Girls in Florida; Or, Wintering in the Sunny South Page 2