CHAPTER XIX
A Belated Traveler
A BRILLIANT moon had aided Dave in the latter portion of his journeyto Lakeville. The following night, a similarly illumined sky wasof great assistance to another solitary wayfarer, for the man inleather leggings, misdirected that morning by Mabel and Henrietta, waslaboriously making his way back toward Pete's Patch. Before he had_quite_ reached the end of the unspeakable road over which the girlshad sent him, he had met a camping fisherman who had given him explicitdirections for finding Mr. Black's land.
At ten o'clock that night, having at last reached Barclay's Point, heurged his patient horse along the beach until he came to the embersof a dying camp fire, and noted, on the bank above, a number of whitetents gleaming like ghosts in the moonlight. Tying his weary steed toa convenient log, the man, very stiff and sore from his long ride,clambered up the sand bank, only to fall prone at the top over astrange and most alarmingly prickly object that stood directly in hispath.
Rising with considerable difficulty and separating himself as speedilyas possible from Terrible Tim, who was emitting queer, frightenedgrunts, the surprised traveler moved cautiously along the path,shouting, in a voice that quavered persistently in spite of his manlyefforts to control it:
"Mr. Black! Oh, Mr. Bla--ack!"
Mr. Black, only half awake, sat up to listen. The call came again.
"Oh, Mr. Bla-a-a-ack!"
The owner of the name, wrapped in a blanket, thrust an inquiring headfrom the doorway of his tent.
"What's all the row about?" he demanded.
"Oo!" groaned Henrietta, who had wakened at the first call, "it's thatgame warden! He'll never spare us _now_."
Keen-eared Marjory, too, was sitting up to listen; and, at Mr. Black'sreply, Jean and Bettie opened their eyes.
"Wake up," commanded Henrietta, in a terrifying whisper, as shepummeled Mabel mercilessly. "Wake up, wake up--the game warden's here."
The response to this was so surprising that Henrietta, whose teeth werealready chattering with fright, almost tumbled over.
"Who--oop!" shouted Mabel, doubling up her sturdy fists and hittingout, first with one, then another. "Who--oop! Who--oop! Who--oop!"
"Mabel! For goodness' sake, what do you think you're doing!" gaspedHenrietta. "Oh, my poor chin!"
"Mabel! Stop pounding my ribs!" shrieked Bettie. "You can't sleep nextto _me_ again."
"I--I killed him," breathed Mabel, subsiding with a deep, satisfiedsigh. "Oh, is it breakfast time?"
"What did you kill?" demanded Henrietta, rubbing her chin.
"The father-bear--Bettie was running away with his cubs. What's thematter with everybody?"
"The game warden," whispered Henrietta. "He's outside with Mr.Black--arresting him, I guess. But listen--they're talking."
"What!" Mr. Black was exclaiming, excitedly. "Two girls? Two of _my_girls sent you--why, Saunders! You must be dreaming!"
"Saunders!" gasped Henrietta.
"Saunders!" echoed Mabel. "Why! Saunders is the man in Mr. Black'soffice. I've never seen him, but I've heard a lot about him."
"Girls!" called Mr. Black, "are you awake?"
"Yes," shrieked all five.
"Here's a hungry man. Could one of you roll up in a blanket and findhim something to eat?"
"Sure!" shrieked all five.
Then, of course, there followed a lively scramble for shoes andblankets and, in another moment, the five girls, looking like so manydisheveled little squaws, were out in the moonlight.
"There's some cold johnny-cake," said Jean, rather doubtfully, "andsome mushroom soup that I could warm up."
"And beans," added Marjory, stalking after her towards the campcupboard. "I'll get the dishes."
"Girls," said Mr. Black, "this is Mr. Saunders--Mr. WilliamSaunders--of Lakeville. Saunders, which of these young women did yousee this morning?"
"Well, really," stammered the visitor, glancing from one to another ofthe blanketed maidens, "I couldn't say."
"Mabel and me," mumbled Henrietta, half-heartedly.
"And you sent him----"
"We thought," explained Mabel, balancing unsteadily on the only footfor which she had been able to find a shoe, "that he was the gamewarden."
"Game warden!" gasped Mr. Black. "Do you mean to say that you _meant_to send him seventeen miles from Barclay's?"
The guilty little girls accomplished the difficult feat of nodding andhanging their heads at the same time.
"In all that mud!" groaned Saunders, "and on that awful saddle!"
"We," faltered Henrietta, whose red blanket was most becoming to hersparkling brunette countenance, "we didn't want the game warden to findout about Dave."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mr. Black. "That reminds me. Dave is inLakeville, Saunders is here--he brought up an important paper for me tosign. With Saunders gone, Dave won't know what to do about the doctor.He _may_ start back."
"Not if there's anything drinkable left in Lakeville," assuredSaunders. "I know mighty well where I'll find him. But I _can't_ goback to-night--I'm not accustomed to riding, and I've been on that poorold nag all day."
"I'll fix a bed for you in my tent," said Mr. Black. "There's plenty ofroom."
"I'm awfully sorry for what we did," mumbled Henrietta, contritely,"but we _did_ mistake you for that dreadful game warden."
"That looks," said Saunders, with mock severity, "as if you'd beenbreaking the game laws."
"It's that rascal Dave," explained Mr. Black. "He has damaged them all;but please don't mention it in town."
Mr. Saunders was fed and escorted to bed; but before he had had timeto unlace his shoes, there were wild shrieks from the girls' tent.Mabel, the first to plunge in, had collided with a horribly pricklyobject that grunted like a frightened pig and scratched like a thousandneedles. Then, as girl after girl rubbed against Terrible Tim, who hadsomehow escaped and was calmly eating their tallow candle, a chorus ofshrieks rang forth. This outcry, of course, sent Mr. Black flying tothe rescue. And Mrs. Crane, roused at last and puzzled by the presenceof Mr. Saunders, joined the relief party.
"It's Terrible Tim!" shrieked Marjory. "He's in all our beds!"
"We'll let him go," declared Mr. Black. "He's too troublesome a pet."
"No, no, no!" shrieked the alarmed girls. "He'll get in here again."
"And I'm sure," said Mrs. Crane, "that he isn't wanted in _my_ tent."
"Well," agreed Mr. Black, "I guess it _is_ wiser to tie him up than toattempt to chase him away--perhaps he's forgotten the way home."
So Terrible Tim, cowering in a corner and quite as frightened as hisvictims, was fastened to his clothesline and driven to his tree. It wasdays, however, before the girls' blankets were free from the irritatingporcupine quills that Timothy had shed so generously.
In the morning Mr. Saunders, still stiff and sore from his long ride,was safely started on his way to Lakeville; but, during his brief stay,he had made friends with all the girls and even conversed for a fewmoments with Billy Blue-eyes, who was greatly taken with the pleasantyoung man.
"You see," explained Saunders, with a twinkle in his shrewd gray eyeas he glanced toward Mabel and Henrietta, "I want to make such a goodimpression that I'll be recognized a mile away _next_ time."
"Well," complained Mabel, "you might have _said_ you weren't that gamewarden."
At that, lame as he was, Saunders threw back his head and roared.
When Saunders, bountifully supplied with lists and instructions, haddeparted, Mrs. Crane told the girls that Billy was clamoring forvisitors.
"I guess," said she, "we'll let Jean and Bettie in first--they're thequietest."
The boy was now visibly gaining in strength; also he seemedsufficiently cheerful and contented until Bettie, forgetting that shewas not to trouble him with questions, asked if he lived in Lakeville.
"Where's that?" queried the boy.
"About fifteen miles from here," returned Bettie. "You could see it ona clear day if it wasn't for Sug
ar Loaf and a lot of other scenery inthe way."
"What's Sugar Loaf--sounds like a candy shop?"
"A very high hill right on the edge of the lake. Lakeville is a townaround several corners in a little bay. Where _did_ you come from?"
The boy's eyes clouded. "I don't know," said he. "When I wake up in thenight I _almost_ remember things--my bed, for instance, belongs overthere--but there's always a piece of everything gone. I--it bothers me.I guess you think I'm pretty queer."
"Don't worry," soothed Jean. "You're not strong yet. You'll be allright when you're well."
"Think so?" demanded Billy, brightening. "Then I'll eat all the brothMrs.--some kind of a bird--brings me."
"She's making some now," said Bettie, "from a piece of Dave's venison.We'll have all sorts of good things to eat as soon as Mr. Saunders getsto town. He said he'd travel as fast as he _could_--I guess he's prettylame."
"But," groaned Jean, "he can't possibly get anything here beforeto-morrow and I'm just starved for pie."
"Pie!" laughed the boy. "I'd like a piece myself. Why, when I livedin--in---- Now wouldn't that make you tired! I can _see_ a table withpie on it and a whole pitcher full of cream; but, if you offered me athousand dollars I couldn't tell you where to find that table! Pshaw!It makes me so mad when things float off like that that I want to--cry."
Whereupon Jean, noting that big tears blurred the blue eyes, beganhastily to tell how Terrible Tim had devoured one of Mabel's shoes,left carelessly within his reach; and presently the lad was againsmiling.
The Castaways of Pete's Patch Page 22