Slowly and with the utmost care Gale moved out farther and farther onto the ledge. She held her breath every minute lest Lonesome Man’s nose should crack and plunge them both down to the ground. After seconds which seemed like hours Gale was in a position to grasp Toto and start the return journey.
CHAPTER XVI
Home Again
When the party from Marchton arrived at the Bouchard cottage and found Gale again missing it was another bitter blow on top of all the others they had suffered. They listened to all that François and Antoinette could tell them. Then they organized a searching party. Mr. Howard, the doctor and Antoinette started off in the direction Gale had taken yesterday afternoon when she left. Brent and Phyllis started off to test Phyllis’ suggestion that from the top of the mountain and through François’ powerful field glasses they might be able to find some sign of Gale on the countryside. Mrs. Howard remained with François.
When they had gone a very short distance from the cottage Brent espied a tiny figure atop the mountain Antoinette had called Lonesome Man. He pointed to it and Phyllis gripped his arm tightly while she waved with her other hand.
“Gale!” Phyllis whispered when the figure had returned her salute.
“Come on,” Brent said and was off, running lightly, Phyllis keeping pace with him.
“She is climbing down,” Phyllis said as they halted momentarily, watching the figure on the cliff in the distance.
“That’s dangerous,” Brent muttered, “the surface is icy, you can see it glisten in the sun.”
When they ran out into the clearing at the base of Lonesome Man, Gale was just beginning her trip to rescue Toto.
“Gale! Go back!” Phyllis cried, but her voice did not carry to her friend. “She can’t go out there!” Phyllis said wildly to Brent.
Brent started forward but a second later Phyllis stopped him.
“Wait,” she said. “Look!”
Gale had worked herself half way out on the ledge.
“Don’t go now—you will frighten her and she will fall.”
The two watched breathlessly. Their eyes never once wavered from the figure of the girl above them as she worked her way out on the ice covered ledge to where a little ball of fur crouched in terror. They gasped when once her foot slipped and she was prostrated flat on the ice.
“Ooo, I can’t look!” Phyllis whispered frantically, but just the same she watched Gale fascinatedly.
When Gale had Toto secure in her arm the two spectators let out a sigh of thankfulness but they were too soon. Gale had no more than started the perilous return journey to the rock when a warning crack was heard. They saw her give one horrified glance at the icy floor beneath her.
When the ledge snapped off with a grinding crack Gale, with Toto clasped in her arms, was hurled into space. Phyllis screamed, Brent started forward on a run. There was danger to Gale not only from her fall but from the rock that also fell. If she should be crushed under any of those jagged edges—
Brent reached the scene first. Toto was scrambling from the snow. Phyllis appeared then and together they pulled Gale from the snow.
“Is she killed?” Phyllis asked tremulously.
“No,” Brent said finally. “I’ll carry her, you run ahead.”
Phyllis swept Toto up into her arms and darted off.
Gale looked up at the ceiling and knit her brows in perplexity. Where was she? The last thing she remembered she was in the seat behind Brent in his black and silver monoplane and they were turning over and over about to crash in the storm. She looked at the rough log-hewn walls, at the moonlight streaming in through the little window and brought her gaze back to the ceiling. No, no, the plane wasn’t the last thing. Slowly, like a moving picture coming into focus, her mind’s eye picked up the pictures of the weeks past. Now she remembered everything! The fall from the ledge of rock, the shock she had suffered, had restored suddenly everything that had been a blank before.
She became aware of someone sitting on the floor beside the bed. All she could see was the top of a light curly head but even that was familiar.
“Hullo, Phyl,” she said.
Instantly Phyllis looked up. “Gale!”
“How long have you been sitting there?” Gale demanded smiling.
“Since—since—not very long,” Phyllis replied. “You do—you do remember me?” she asked gently.
“Of course,” Gale said. “But why—oh, I know! You heard that I couldn’t remember anything. That I didn’t know—”
Phyllis nodded. “Brent told us.”
That was the beginning of a talk that lasted a long time, before either of them thought of the other people in the main room of the cottage.
“We’ve been here since this morning,” Phyllis explained when she stood up. “We flew up last night. Your parents, Dr. Miller, and Brent and I. Antoinette is an angel! This morning when you were missing was almost as bad as—when the plane crashed. Then when Brent and I saw you fall from the ledge—my heart nearly stopped!”
“It was sweet of you to come all the way up here, Phyl,” Gale said, “to help me.”
Phyllis colored uncomfortably. “I’ll tell the others you are awake. We’ve been worried all day.”
When Phyllis had departed Gale had but a moment to reminisce over all the days she had been here and to grasp the fact now of what her mysterious disappearance and subsequent hiding must have meant to those in Marchton. She regretted every moment of anxiety she had caused them and vowed to make it up; then the others came in and there was the happiest joy of reunion.
Later, much, much later, when the others forced themselves to leave in order to let Gale sleep and regain her strength to travel back to Marchton on the morrow, her miraculous escape from serious injury in both the airplane crash and her fall this morning was still a wonder to them.
Brent, the last to enter, and the last to leave, took her hand in his and squeezed it.
“I’ll bet you’ll never go flying with me again,” he said ruefully.
“Try me,” she laughed.
“Anyway, I’m glad to see you all right again, kiddo,” he said with a wide smile.
Gale sat up. “You weren’t hurt much then,” she murmured thankfully.
“No. But you gave us plenty to think about. We were worried to death about you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think you would worry so much.”
“Worry? Oh, my dear—” He checked himself and grinned. “Go to sleep, youngster. Tomorrow we go back to Marchton.” He looked down at her for a long time. “Good night,” he said finally and kissed the top of her head. Hastily he made his way out.
Gale lay and let little shivers run up and down her back. She was so comfortable and warm, so supremely happy, she let her dreams run riot. Tomorrow she would be home again, safe and among friends. But she had been among friends here, too. It would be hard to leave Antoinette and François and—Toto. If the little dog hadn’t crawled out on that ledge this morning, if she hadn’t gone after him and if the ice hadn’t crumpled she might still be living in the shadows she had lived in for the past weeks. She still might not know who she was.
She sat up and looked out the window. In the distance Lonesome Man was brilliantly alight with moonlight but now he was a man without a nose. She smiled slightly. She had forever ruined the facial beauty of Lonesome Man but it had brought her happiness.
She stretched luxuriously and snuggled down again between the blankets. Cautiously the door opened and Antoinette looked in.
“Antoinette!” Gale said, stretching out her hand.
“You are well again, Gale,” Antoinette said, almost sadly. “I am glad. But now you will leave us—”
“Tomorrow,” Gale nodded. “I can never thank you enough, Antoinette, for all you have done—”
“It was nothing,” the French girl said confusedly. “You were like a sister.”
“You will come to the States to see me?” Gale pleaded. The subject had been
mentioned earlier when the others had been present and Antoinette had flushed with pleasure at the invitation.
“But of course, I shall be most happy,” she declared.
When Antoinette had gone again Gale turned contentedly on her pillows. She had had a most exciting time but now her difficulties were over. Tomorrow she would fly back to Marchton. School would begin for her again, gay times with her friends, a sheltered life in the little town. Except for a slight headache she had no reminder at all of the long time through which she had just come. Again she sighed with pleasure. Another thing that made her happy—Brent was going home with them!
CHAPTER XVII
Return
“For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow—” the Adventure Girls sang loudly if not well.
“And a hot cha cha!” Janet put in lavishly.
“That doesn’t fit,” Carol complained.
“I don’t care whether it does or not,” Janet said irrelevantly. “I’m happy and I don’t care who knows it.”
“What is the reason?” Carol inquired suspiciously.
“Gale’s return,” Janet said promptly, a little too promptly.
The young people were gathered in the living room of the Howard home. All the Adventure Girls were present. Gale had been back one week now but they never refused any opportunity to have any sort of gala occasion in honor of her return. There had been little gatherings and parties ever since the plane that brought her back had landed at the Marchton airport. Tonight, however, was devoted strictly to only the Adventure Girls. They had demanded one night for their very own.
Now they all cocked a suspicious eye in Janet’s direction to seek the cause of her extra-exuberant spirits. That young lady was deeply involved in looking through the music on the piano. They had sung nearly every piece there, but Janet was still seeking another to which to devote their talents.
“See here,” Carol turned Janet squarely about, “confess all! What has happened to you? You were in a glow all through English class this afternoon and anything that can make you glow in that class is colossal.”
“Is that so?” Janet scoffed.
“Is it a secret?” Madge asked hopefully from her position on the arm of Phyllis’ chair, idly strumming her ukulele.
“Aren’t we your bestest pals? Don’t we tell you everything?” Carol insisted. “Come on, Janet, what is it all about?”
Janet bent intently over a pile of music. “If you must know, Mark Sherwin has asked me to the Senior Prom.”
“No!”
“Whoopee! He asks far enough ahead of time.”
“No wonder you were all smiles!” Carol declared. “So that is it! Your hero!”
“He isn’t,” Janet said shortly. “He’s nice, he has ambition,” she added loftily.
“Happy days are here again,” Carol said, whirling Janet around the room.
“Be quiet,” Janet complained. “You’re jealous,” she accused.
“Where is the dance to be held?” Phyllis wanted to know.
“At the Country Club,” Valerie put in. “I’m on the dance committee.”
“You are!” Madge echoed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Valerie laughed. “I didn’t know it myself until this afternoon. I had almost forgotten it. Who are you going with, Phyl?”
“If I can go,” Phyllis said ruefully, “if my Aunt will let me, David wants to take me, but I don’t know.”
“She still insists on keeping you out of Briarhurst?” Gale asked.
Phyllis nodded vigorously. “I suppose I shall go to Stonecliff and wear a horrid uniform.”
“We must do something about that,” Janet said. “We won’t be separated, Aunt or no Aunt!”
Phyllis laughed but she didn’t look as though she believed they could do anything. She knew her Aunt better than any of them.
“Who is taking you to the prom, Gale?”
“I—”
“I’ll bet she can’t make up her mind,” teased Janet. “Which is it, Gale? Bruce or Brent?”
“It is a secret,” Gale said promptly. “You shan’t any of you know until you see me there.”
“Ah, that isn’t fair!” the others complained.
“But it will give you something to look forward to,” Gale laughed.
To tell the truth she didn’t know. Bruce might ask her. He usually took her to the school dances but she—she wanted to ask Brent but she was a little afraid. Afraid he would refuse and then she would be hurt. She hadn’t seen much of him since her return to Marchton. He had gone to Washington the day after and had not yet returned; if, she added to herself, he intended to return.
When the others teased her she remained silent. A mysterious smile was all the reply she would give them.
The girls gave no thought to the classes they would have tomorrow while they were enjoying themselves and it was late when they finally bid Gale a sleepy good night. After a little straightening up Gale crept away to her own room but not to sleep. She brought out her books and tackled the lessons which she found difficult. During her absence the classwork had gone forward and now she was hard pressed to make up for lost time.
Soon, however, the pencil dropped from her fingers and she stared out the window to where the winter moon floated easily through the clouds. She thought of Antoinette and sighed. It had been very hard to part from the French friends she had made. She missed the three in the little Canadian cottage more than anyone knew. Especially she missed the sweet friendly presence of the girl and her romps with Toto. She missed the cold nights in the bright moonlight when she had tramped in the snow. Here she could not go out walking when she felt like it. Her parents and friends would think her insane if she should go for a walk late at night. There would never be the same freedom here that there had been in Canada for that short time.
Gale yawned and closed her history book. She could not cram another sentence into her head tonight. Her eyes burned and felt heavy. She took deep breaths of the cool air that drifted in the window but she did not feel refreshed.
Upon a sudden decision she took her woolly coat from her closet and on tiptoe crept into the hall and down the stairs. At every creak of the steps she held her breath lest her Mother call her. She didn’t propose to do anything wrong, but she felt she must get away from the house, away from the books and studies that were becoming more and more difficult, from the worry of her examinations which was beginning to have a smothering effect on her.
Dry leaves rustled beneath her feet as she went down the path to the street. There she turned in the direction of the bay. At the tiny wharf she seated herself on a deserted soap box and gazed out over the gentle swell of waves. A huge blot in the darkness was the island. Beyond that lashed the heavy ocean waves. She could hear the roar of the surf even at this distance. She sniffed appreciatively and felt the spell of depression that had enveloped her lifting.
Suddenly she heard a sound in the stillness. It was a footfall and quite abruptly a man was outlined against the line of water and sky as he stood at the opposite end of the wharf from her. His figure was a mere blot, indistinguishable. He carried a huge bag or box, Gale could not determine which in the indistinct light. As she watched he set this down at his feet and took a few steps along the edge, peering over into the water.
Gale, in order to have a better point of vision, dropped from the wharf into the rear seat of Bruce’s motor boat. She pulled a huge piece of canvas over her and lay still, watching the shadow up above her through a slit in the canvas. It had come to her suddenly that she had been quite mad to come down to the shore at this hour. Burglars, smugglers, anyone might be here. Even though she had never heard much of such desperate characters in Marchton now, with the stranger standing ominously in the shadows, her imagination pictured all sorts of crimes.
Footsteps approached and Gale hastily drew the canvas more fully over her. A thud, and the boat rocked as another person took his position up in the front at the wheel. A
few minutes later and after several false attempts, the motor broke into a roar that shattered the stillness of the night like a roll of thunder.
Gale peered out and thought of making a wild dash for the safety of the wharf but it was already too late. The shore was being rapidly left behind. She glanced up at the prow. The man was leaning over, getting every ounce of speed from the engine that was possible. Again Gale mentally scolded herself for the foolhardy thing she had done. She should never have come to the wharf; but in the second place, and now more important, she should never have gotten into the boat. She was an unwilling passenger of a strange pilot on a still stranger cruise.
At first she had thought the boat was headed out for the open sea but, by discreetly raising her head for a glimpse into the darkness ahead, she saw the pilot was heading straight for the island. What could he want there? Gale had not been there since the day Brent left. It was deserted as far as she knew. The club house which Brent had occupied during his stay there was boarded up for the winter. What could he want?
The boat veered off sharply and chugged onto the shore. The prow grated on the pebbly sand and Gale kept herself hidden until she was sure the pilot had jumped clear and started up the beach. Then she raised herself and looked after him. The dark figure was striding up toward the club house.
Gale stood up and after some difficulty negotiated her way up to the prow of the boat from where she could jump onto the sand. The water lapped her shoes as she darted away from the boat and sprang up the beach, keeping in the shadows out of sight of the stranger. She must see what he was about. Her curiosity was aroused and a feverish interest to keep the strange man and his doings in sight gripped her.
The figure ahead of her had approached the club house. He was working with the door and she saw it give beneath his weight. A second later he disappeared into the darkness within. She waited until a faint glimmer of light came from between the boards on the windows and from beneath the door. Then she crept forward. It was impossible to see into the room between the boards and she was puzzled. She must find out what he was doing in there! Cautiously she moved to the door. It was not latched, merely pushed to a thin crack. Gently she began to move it open far enough for her to see into the interior.
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