Up and down the long hills they drove, past numberless lakes and ponds, in and out of woods sweet with the odor of sun-warmed pine, and across rivers whose red mud flats made a vivid splash of color on the landscape.
“So many, many little bodies of water,” murmured Desiré.
“The ground is so uneven,” explained Jack, “that the water settles and forms lakes.”
“Why are the river banks so wide, and so very muddy?” asked Priscilla, leaning on the back of the seat.
“Out there,” answered Jack, waving his arm toward the West, “is the Bay of Fundy, a big, windy, rough body of water, an arm of the Atlantic Ocean. This bay has huge tides, rising in some places to a height of fifty or seventy feet. When the tide is high, the water rushes into all the rivers on this side of the country and fills them to overflowing; then all these banks are covered up. The tide comes twice a day; so you see the flats have no time to dry out.”
Through Brazil, Lake Annes, and Hectanooga they had passed without stopping, and then the children began to get hungry. Jack drew up to the side of the road in the open country, and stopped in the shade of a huge oak tree. There they ate the lunch which Mrs. Chaisson had put up for them, and rested a while, breathing in deep breaths of clover-scented air.
“See the chipmunk, René,” said Jack, pointing to a little animal who was regarding them doubtfully from the trunk of a nearby tree. “See the stripes along his back? Well, once upon a time, many years ago, a wonderful being called Glooscap lived up on Cape Blomidon. He was half god and half man, and tried to make Nova Scotia a very happy, safe place to live in. But there were wicked witches who lived here also, and they wanted to do all kinds of harm. The strongest of them was called Gamona, and any animal who was caught by her was killed or shut up in some cave or hole. One day little Charlie Chipmunk disobeyed his mother and went too far away from home. Suddenly, while he was nibbling at a most delicious nut, he felt himself picked up in terrible sharp claws. What was it his mother had told him to do if he ever got into danger? Alas! He couldn’t remember, and the creature, at whose face he dared not look, was carrying him away so, so fast! Some name he should call. Whose name? Like the lightning which sometimes made their hollow-tree home bright as day, it flashed into his mind.
“‘Glooscap!’ he squeaked.
“Such a tiny, trembling cry reached nowhere at all in that great big forest, yet Glooscap heard it and came to help the little fellow.
“‘Let my child go!’ he ordered, in a voice which, though not very loud, seemed to fill the whole land with its power.
“Gamona ground her teeth with anger. She knew she must obey, yet how she hated to let such a nice plump chipmunk go. Slowly she opened her hand just a little bit, then a little bit more; but the space was not quite wide enough for fat little Charlie. Her long sharp claws scraped his back as he wiggled out, and made long dark scratches. Ever since that day the chipmunk has worn those stripes down the middle of his back.”
“I c’n see ’em jes’ as plain,” observed René.
“Come on,” proposed Priscilla, “see if he’ll eat these crusts.”
“Shouldn’t we have stopped at some of the places we passed?” ventured Desiré, hesitatingly. She did not want to seem critical of Jack.
“Simon had no names on his list before Saulnierville; and I thought he probably knew the ropes better than we.”
“Shan’t we take on any new customers, then?” Desiré asked anxiously. She was so eager to make a huge success of this strange business.
“Surely, if we can; but the places we passed are so close to Yarmouth that I felt the city would get all their trade,” replied Jack, taking the huge red clover top that René had presented him, and sticking it in Desiré’s black curls. “I hope to get to Church Point in the morning.”
“Then we’d better get started now,” decided Desiré, getting up and shaking off the grass and leaves which the children had thrown upon her in their play.
None of them were accustomed to constant riding, and the afternoon seemed very long. The novelty of the situation and the scenery had worn off, and they were acutely conscious of cramped muscles.
“Can’t I get out and walk for a while?” asked Priscilla, as they approached Meteghan.
“I’d thought we’d stop up here on the main street for a while to see if anyone wants to buy anything,” said Jack, in reply to Desiré’s questioning look; “so if you will follow us carefully, you may get out here. But be sure to keep us in close sight, and don’t go wandering off.”
He stopped the horses, and Priscilla scrambled out amid clamors of René to go with her.
“No, Renny,” said Desiré, “you come and ride in front between Jack and me. Won’t that be fun?” pulling him across the back of the seat. But he continued to fret and cry until Jack said sternly:
“René, we’ve had enough of that. Stop it at once or go into the back of the wagon by yourself. You’re too big a boy to act like a baby.”
The child looked at his brother, and quickly recognizing the determination and force in the serious gaze bent upon him, set about controlling himself. Jack evidently meant business when he spoke in that tone. In their anxiety to compose René before they entered the town proper, they temporarily forgot about Priscilla. Like a flash, Desiré turned to look back.
“Jack!” she gasped, “I don’t see Prissy!”
The boy stopped the horses at once, and for a moment scanned the empty road in consternation.
CHAPTER VI
THE PIE SOCIAL
Turning the team, they started back. Dapple and Dolly lagged along, heads down; they were tired, and it was close to supper time.
Jack and Desiré peered into the bushes and trees on either side of the road for a glimpse of a red coat. Around a bend, among the trees far back from the road, they finally saw what they sought. Stopping the wagon, they watched for a moment to see what she was doing. Intently, apparently without thought of anything else, she was stealthily following a small black and white animal. Before they could shout a warning, she suddenly darted forward and seized the little creature. Out of her hands it twisted, filling the air with a strong, unpleasant odor; then it disappeared into the dense woods.
“Oh!” groaned Jack.
“Priscilla!” called Desiré sharply.
The child looked up, and began coming toward them.
“Stand right where you are,” directed Jack, when she reached the edge of the clearing. “Don’t come any nearer. What on earth possessed you to meddle with a wood pussy?”
“I—I thought it was a kitten,” faltered the little girl, thoroughly frightened.
“If you’d followed us closely, as Jack told you, you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble,” said Desiré severely. “What can we do with her, Jack?”
“I’ll get a pail of water from that pond, while you find fresh clothing; then I’ll carry the things over to the woods. She’ll have to go behind that clump of scrub pine and take off her clothing, make up the garments into a bundle, throw it as far into the woods as she can, then bathe and put on fresh things,” replied Jack, taking a pail and starting down the road toward a small, but deep, pool of water.
“I’ll go and help her,” said Desiré, when he returned.
“Stay right where you are,” he directed quietly but firmly. “She can manage perfectly well by herself.”
He crossed the road; and Desiré, though she could not quite distinguish the words, listened to the brief, curt orders he issued to the unfortunate little girl. Then he returned and stood leaning against the side of the wagon. René had dozed off, and Desiré laid him on the seat.
“This is one phase of our adventure that we did not consider,” began Jack, after a pause. His face looked more serious, even, than usual.
“What? Prissy getting mixed up with a wood pussy?” laughed Desiré.
“No. The problem of discipline. The free and lazy life is going to let the youngsters get a bit out of hand, I’m afraid.�
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“René’s only a baby,” said Desiré reassuringly. “We should have no trouble managing him. Of course Priscilla is rather difficult at times; she goes from one extreme to another so quickly. You never know exactly what she will do next. At home, I sometimes sent her to bed; but that would be rather difficult in a wagon. But she’s a good little thing, and we’ll do the best we can. You mustn’t worry about it, Jack,” concluded Desiré, bending over to touch his thick brown curls.
He caught her hand in his and held it until Priscilla appeared from among the trees, freshly clothed, and swinging the empty pail in her hand.
Without a word Jack helped her into the wagon and they headed once more for the town. The sun had sunk below the horizon; the woods were getting dim; and the sky was a soft rose and gold when they entered Meteghan. Surely the whole population must be abroad, so filled were the streets with people all headed toward the church.
“What do you suppose is going on?” asked Desiré, viewing the scene rather wistfully.
“I don’t know,” replied Jack, pulling the wagon into a free space between two other vehicles. Almost immediately a tall, awkward youth sauntered over to them.
“Where’s old Simon?”
Jack explained, adding, “What’s doing here?”
“Pie social,” was the laconic reply. “Better go.”
“Where is it held?” asked Desiré, leaning out and smiling down into his keen grey eyes.
“Church basement; it’s for the benefit of the church. Costs you a pie to get in.”
At this point, a companion called to the boy, and he strolled away.
“Like to go?” asked Jack, who had not been unobservant of Desiré’s eager interest.
“How could we? We haven’t any pies.”
“There must be some place to buy them. Surely some enterprising person would foresee the market. Let’s look around a bit.”
He tied the horses to a post and locked the doors. René was wide awake by this time, and eager for new adventures; so the four, Priscilla still silent, walked along the streets of the little town until they found a place bearing a sign—“Pies for sale.” Here they purchased four pies, and turned their steps toward the church. At the door a pretty girl took their donations, and they were allowed to enter. Along the sides of the little basement were rough board counters loaded with pies of every size and variety. One could buy whatever one desired, from a whole pie to a small slice.
“We’re like the Chinese,” smiled Jack, as they stood eating pieces of custard pie; “dessert first, then more substantial food.”
The pretty girl who had been at the door now approached them, and smiling at Jack, said—“We’re going to dance here tonight after all the pies are sold. Hope you will all stay.”
“I’m sorry, but we shall not be able to,” he replied courteously. “I have old Simon’s wagon out there, and can’t leave it so long.”
“Oh, we heard about the young man who was going to take Simon’s route. My folks know him real well. He often puts the wagon in our barn and stays all night at our house. Why—wait a minute.”
She darted off, and returned almost immediately with a short, thick-set man, who looked like a farmer.
“This is my father, Jean Riboux,” she said. “I’m Prudence.”
“My name is Wistmore,” replied Jack, shaking hands; “and these are my sisters, Desiré and Priscilla; and my little brother René.”
“Pleased to know you, both for yourselves and for old Simon,” responded the man, with unmistakable cordiality. “You must make free at our place, same as he did. Drive over, put up the team, and stay all night.”
Though Jack protested, the man would hear of no refusal, and ten minutes later they turned into a nearby farmyard. Jean took the horses away from Jack, and sent the Wistmores into the house to his wife who had come to the door to meet them.
“Your husband and daughter insisted upon our coming here for the night,” said Jack, after introductions had been made; “but I think it is entirely too much. There are so many of us—”
“There’s always a welcome here for any friends of old Simon’s,” was Mrs. Riboux’s quiet reply; “and we have plenty of room. We were sorry to hear of his bad luck; but then, it turned out well for you,” looking at the little family curiously.
“Yes, the opportunity to take the route came just as we were looking for something for the summer,” said Desiré, smiling shyly at their hostess.
“Oh, then you’re not goin’ to keep it regular?”
“That can not be decided,” contributed Jack, “until we see how things go.”
As they gathered around the table for supper, the boy who had told them about the Pie Social slid into one of the chairs and grinned at Desiré.
“Didn’t think you’d see me again so soon, did you?”
“That’s Ormand, Orrie for short,” explained Prudence, who sat beside Jack right across the table from them.
“I guessed who you people were as soon as I laid eyes on Dapple and Dolly; and I knew you’d turn up here finally.”
The conversation of the elders turned to crops, and continued throughout the meal, while the younger people talked of the coming dance.
“Now,” said Mrs. Riboux to Desiré, as they left the table, “why don’t you put the little fellow to bed and go to the dance with my boy and girl? I’ll watch out for him,” as Desiré hesitated and looked at Jack. “All ages go to these socials, so your sister could go along too,” she added, as the Wistmores started up the long flight of stairs to their rooms.
“I’ll put René to bed while you dress up a bit,” offered Jack, taking the little boy by the hand, and preparing to leave Desiré.
She detained him, however, and asked in a low tone, “What about—?” motioning toward the door of her room, which Priscilla had entered ahead of her.
“Trot on into that room across the hall, Renny,” directed Jack, starting him in the right direction; “and see how nearly ready for bed you can get before I come.”
“Although she is far too young for dances,” he continued, “since it is the custom here for girls of her age to attend them, I should have allowed her to go; but in the light of this afternoon’s escapade, I think she should be deprived of the pleasure. Don’t you?”
“Y—e—s; I suppose so; but I’m afraid she’ll make a fuss, for she expects to go. And I do hate to disappoint her.”
Without replying, Jack stepped into the room where his younger sister was standing before an old-fashioned mirror combing her hair.
“Priscilla,” he began quietly, “you weren’t counting on going to the dance; were you?”
“Yes, I am,” she retorted quickly, turning to face him. “You heard Mrs. Riboux say that girls of my age go.”
“That is not the point at all. What about this afternoon’s disobedience?”
“It wasn’t my fault that I met that awful animal,” she muttered, half under her breath.
“You are being purposely stupid, Priscilla. You know very well that you were deliberately disobedient in not following the wagon as I told you to. If you can’t obey, we shall all have a miserable summer. To impress that fact on your mind, you must stay right here in your room until we come back; that is, unless René wants something.”
Jack crossed the hall to his own room, and Desiré looked pityingly on her sister, who had thrown herself into a chair beside the window and was giving way to tears. There was no use trying to reason with Priscilla when the child was in one of these moods; so she went about her own preparations for the evening, in silence; but considerable of her own pleasure was taken out of the prospect.
Before leaving, she stooped over the big chair in which the little girl crouched, put her arms around her, and kissed her affectionately without speaking. Priscilla also said nothing, but she returned the kiss; and Desiré, recognizing the act as the beginning of a return to normal conditions, felt happier about leaving her.
Ormand and Prudence Riboux
were evidently very popular among the young folks of the country; and they introduced their guests to so many boys and girls that the Wistmores were never at a loss for partners.
“Wasn’t it fun!” cried Desiré joyously, as she said goodnight to Jack in the dim upper hall, lighted only by their two candles. “Didn’t you have a good time?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And just think, we’ve made some new friends already. I like the Riboux family.”
“So do I; they’re fine people,” agreed Jack absentmindedly. He was thinking about tomorrow’s trip into the Clare District. That was going to be the hardest part of the route, going through their old home and its neighboring towns.
“Jack!” cried Desiré, as she entered her room. “Prissy’s gone!”
CHAPTER VII
A FRIGHT
“Gone!” echoed Jack, staring blankly around the room. “Where could she possibly go?”
“I don’t know; but you see she isn’t here.”
There were few places to look. Jack peered under the big bed, while Desiré looked in the clothes press and a deep chest.
“What shall we do?” she whispered, twisting her hands together and trying to force back the tears. “Is René in your room?” as a sudden thought occurred to her.
With two steps, Jack crossed the hall and stuck his head into the room opposite.
“Yes; he’s in bed.”
Mrs. Riboux, sensing that something was wrong, came out of her room, followed by her husband. Their exclamations brought Prudence and Ormand to join the group. A few minutes of excited consultation resulted in Mr. Riboux going out to notify the authorities that a child was missing.
While the women searched the house from top to bottom, Jack and Ormand, aided by the feeble rays of a lantern, looked about the barns and yard. A group of men and boys from the town were soon scouring the nearby woods, and Desiré, who had returned to her room after the fruitless trip through the various rooms, could see the moving lights and hear occasional shouts.
The forced inaction maddened her. If there were only something she could do besides wait. What danger might not Priscilla be in while she stood helpless here?
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 44