The Nowadays Girls in the Adirondacks or, The deserted bungalow on Saranac Lake

the proper stone near the water's edge, and making fast the rope to it, pushed the boat out a little way from the bank, and dropped the anchor overboard with a splash that awoke the echoes in that silent place. "And now for supper, tea, dinner, breakfast, or whatever we choose to call it," suggested Sylvia, who seemed to have taken command of the situation. "What shall it be--tea or coffee? We have both," she added, for a hasty search among the lunch baskets had disclosed that fact. "Coffee!" voted Rose. "It will help to keep us awake, and I don't want to close my eyes." "Don't be silly!" scoffed Sylvia. "Be a real member of the Nowadays Club!" "All right, I'll try," was the rather faint answer. The alcohol stove, which burned the new solid fuel, was set going, and water, in a tiny kettle, was put on to boil. The girls busied themselves setting out the dishes and food on the folding table which was set up in the centre of the cabin, the seats, which later would become bunks, being ranged on either side. "Now, could anything be more cosy than this?" asked Sylvia, when the kettle was humming. "It _is_ nice," assented Hazel. "If only Aunt Theodora knew we were here and all right, I would not worry so----" Hazel's remarks were interrupted by such a wild, weird cry, bursting out on the silence of the night, echoing and reverberating in the air all about them, that the girls involuntarily uttered screams, and huddled together in the cabin of the boat. They stared at each other with fear-lustred eyes, and when Rose dropped a cup, letting it slip from her nerveless fingers so that it crashed into pieces on the cabin floor, it was rather a relief than otherwise of the tension. Again came that wild, weird cry, something like the laugh of a maniac, or the defiant yell of a maddened beast. It started with a low cadence, rose to a shrill scream, and died away like the last blast from some siren whistle. "What--what in the name of mercy was that?" gasped Hazel. "Maybe--maybe some one--calling for us," whispered Rose. "No human being would call that way," Alice declared, haltingly. Again came the cry, eerie and nerve-racking. It seemed to be nearer the boat now. "Perhaps campers trying to scare us," stammered Hazel. "No one--man or boy--could yell that way," said Sylvia. "It must be----" A third time came the cry--banshee-like in its weirdness. It was followed by a splash in the water, seemingly at the very bow of the _Clytie_. "Oh!" screamed Rose, shrilly. "Be still!" commanded Sylvia, and she laughed. "She--she's getting--hysterics! Oh, dear!" half-moaned Alice. "Nonsense!" and Sylvia was laughing harder than ever. "It's only a loon!" CHAPTER XVII IN CAMP For a moment Sylvia's companions did not respond. They gazed at her as if wondering whether she had really said anything, or as if they did not know whether or not to believe her if she had made any utterance. "What--what did you say?" asked Rose, at length. "That was a loon," Sylvia went on. "A big bird, you know. They are great swimmers and divers, and they have the most awful screech you ever heard." "Well, if _that_ was a sample of it, I can well believe it!" said Hazel. "Are you sure it was a loon?" asked Alice. "Positive," declared Sylvia. "I knew what it was after I heard the third cry and the splash in the water." "It must have been quite near our boat," ventured Rose. "It was," went on Sylvia. "That's what made it sound so weird and terrifying." "It sounded like a lost soul," murmured Hazel. "Not that I know what sort of cries are emitted by lost souls," she hastened to add, "but that is how I should describe it. I hope the loon doesn't come back and serenade us during the night." "Don't you _dare_ suggest such a thing!" exclaimed Rose. "It was like some one crying out in a horrible nightmare." "I don't believe it will come back," Sylvia declared. "Sometimes there will be only one loon in a place, but if there are more, one calls to another and they make a terrible racket. I was camping with my father once, and that happened. I was a little girl, but I have never forgotten the loons. This one was probably after a fish. You know they dive into the water, and actually swim under it to get the fish they pursue. They are wonderful swimmers and divers." "Well, I hope that one keeps on swimming and diving and that he'll be too busy to do any more yelling this night," said Hazel. "Ugh! He gave me the shivers." "And I broke a cup," added Rose. "Never mind, we have enough left for coffee," Sylvia remarked. "I guess the water is boiling now. Pass the sandwiches, girls, and see if there are any olives left." "A whole big bottle, of lovely stuffed ones!" Alice reported, taking it out of a locker. "Where's the corkscrew?" It was found, the simple meal was set forth on the table, and the girls gathered around it to eat, but not without little, nervous glances over their shoulders now and then, at sounds in the nearby woods. But gradually this feeling wore off, and the girls were more like themselves. That was one admirable trait of the Nowadays Girls: they could adapt themselves to almost any circumstances. They were very democratic, though that quality was not called for so much in this instance as was good, sound common sense. "There, I feel a whole lot better," remarked Sylvia, as she pushed back her plate. "So do I," added Hazel. "And I'm not nearly so frightened," declared Rose. "That's a blessing," Hazel said. "Oh, you were just as alarmed as I was, Baby," retorted the Syracuse girl. "But, really, I wouldn't mind hearing that loon call again." "Well, _I_ certainly would!" Alice exclaimed. "Don't you _dare_ invite him to call," and they all laughed. The girls sat about the cabin, closing the sliding doors for comfort since the night air was chilling. They turned off all but one of the little incandescent lights, so the storage battery would last until morning. They left a single lantern burning outside on deck, "to scare away snakes," as Rose jokingly put it. In spite of the determination of each one not to go to sleep, Nature was stronger than the will of any of the girls, and at times each one felt herself nodding and dozing. "I don't care!" Sylvia finally declared, with a sleepy yawn. "I am going to lie down. We'll all feel better in the morning, and there is nothing in the world to be alarmed about here. Let's 'turn in,' as the sailors say." After a little hesitation, the other girls did likewise, and soon all four were peacefully slumbering on the seat bunks. The rest did make them feel much fresher the next morning. They were awake early, to find the day a most glorious one, and there was coffee enough left for a refreshing cup. After that they took turns in trying to start the motor. But the storage battery was used up without success, nor were their efforts at turning the flywheel over by hand any more successful. "Well, we can pole ourselves along shore, and help will be easy to get in daylight," said Sylvia, cheerfully. "Come on, girls!" They poled their way out of the little bay, where they had spent the night, and gradually worked their boat along the shore. They had not gone far before they heard a hail. It came from a large motor boat, containing several men, who had the look of typical Adirondack guides. "I say, be you the lost young ladies?" was the cry. "I think so. We _were_ lost," Sylvia responded. "Well, we're lookin' for you," the spokesman went on. "Lot of parties out from the Antlers. What's the matter?" "Engine trouble," replied Sylvia, succinctly. "I thought Aunt Theodora would start a search for us," remarked Hazel. "It's a wonder she didn't come herself," Rose said. "We'll give you a tow," went on the man at the wheel of the big motor boat. "We're only one of several searchin' parties. The lady you're with is out, too." "I thought so!" Rose exclaimed. "Dear Aunt Theodora! Oh, but wasn't it awful of us to stay out all night!" "I don't see how we could help it," Sylvia declared. "We certainly couldn't walk through the woods at night." A little later they were being towed back to the hotel by the searching party, and had related to the kindly guides their experiences. Before they reached the dock another motor boat had sighted them, and came up at full speed. "There's Aunt Theodora," called Sylvia. A handkerchief was vigorously waved, and four others answered it. "Oh, girls, I was _much_ worried about you!" the guardian said, kissing them all around. "Yet, somehow, I knew you would be all right. However, I organised searching parties, using all the boats I could commandeer, and they've been out all night. Didn't you hear them whistling and calling?" "All we heard was the loon," said Hazel. Once again they told their story, and a little later they were back at their hotel. "Was the dance nice?" asked Hazel, when she and her chums had changed to fresh garments. "They didn't have it," Aunt Theodora said. "Every one was distracted about you, and a number of young men declared they would not dance while you were lost. They went out in a boat after you, and they haven't come back yet. I must say it was very nice of them." "What? Not coming back?" asked Sylvia. "That isn't a bit nice. We want them to dance with us. Though it was a tribute to--shall I say our popularity?--to call off the hop." "Hope they have it to-night," murmured Alice. The young men returned, rather weary and forlorn, but the news that the lost ones had been found reached them before they arrived at the dock, so they came up singing and rejoicing. That night the postponed dance was held. "Oh, but weren't you girls frightened to death, staying out all alone that way?" asked Natalie, during an interval between dances. "Not after we had gotten used to it," Sylvia said. "It was rather a lark." "No, it was a _loon_!" corrected Alice, with a laugh. "Say, little one, I think you're dancing too many dances with one partner," commented Rose, turning to Hazel. "How can I help it? He asks me before any of the other fellows have a chance--not that I want them, for he dances beautifully," said Hazel, with an assumed innocent air that became her well. "Hopeless!" murmured Sylvia. Then the music began a dreamy hesitation. So delightful did the Nowadays Girls find their stay at the Antlers that they decided to prolong their visit another week. Sylvia received a message, saying that her brother was doing as well as could be expected, and this somewhat cheered her and Rose. "And now what do you say to a few days in camp?" asked Mrs. Brownley, when she and her charges had returned one day from a long motor trip. "Camp?" exclaimed Hazel. "Yes. Mr. and Mrs. Parson are talking of going off to the woods to live in a tent, near a small lake not far from here, and they asked me if I thought you girls wouldn't like to join them. What shall I say?" "Please accept for us," said Sylvia. "That is, if the others agree. It will give us a taste of real wilderness life. So different from hotel existence." "But we can't have any dances," objected Alice. "Oh, we can get along without them for a little while," Rose said. "Well, if you can exist without a onestep, I'm sure I can, or a half-and-half, either," declared Alice. "Ho, for the camp!" "Do we have to do our own cooking?" asked Hazel. "No, I believe they are going to take a cook along." "So much nicer," murmured Sylvia, "though I have cooked in camp, and over an open fire. But I can't say I like it. When do we go, Aunt Theodora?"