The Nowadays Girls in the Adirondacks or, The deserted bungalow on Saranac Lake
Roy and his friend. Roy had seemed strangely excited, the clerk said,
at the prospect of going to the Russman bungalow.
Sylvia could not shake off a morbid fear that something would
happen--nay, that it had already happened. But she tried to be brave,
and not to inflict her grief on the others.
However, Rose shared it, though she, too, put on a brave front. But
Hazel and Alice must have suspected, for they were sweetly sympathetic.
Harry Montray had had time only hastily to scribble the note, and leave
it with him for Sylvia, the clerk said, and then he had gone off with
Roy in a rig they hired to drive through the woods from Lake Clear to
Lower Saranac.
"But I would not advise you ladies to take that route," the young man
said.
"We will not," decided Sylvia. "We'll go by boat."
They reached Saranac Inn well in time for dinner, and then began their
arrangements for making an early morning start for the lower lake and
the bungalow.
"Do you think your brother would be a guest there?" asked Alice.
"Most likely," Sylvia answered. "You see he and Mr. Russman--Professor
Russman it really is--are great friends. I have often heard Roy speak
of him, and he has often visited him at his home in Brooklyn."
"Well, then it won't be so bad if he goes there and stays," Hazel
remarked. "It may even do him good. Who knows but that he may hit upon
that formula again?"
"Oh, perhaps it will be all right--if Roy gets there," his sister said,
and there was something in her voice and manner that prompted Rose to
ask:
"Why, Sylvia, don't you think he _will_ get there?"
"Oh, my dear--I don't know--please don't ask me. I have such a queer
feeling!"
"You're all tired out--that's what's the matter!" declared Hazel. "You
need a good rest. We have been doing too much dancing."
"No, it isn't that," Sylvia said.
"Well, whatever it is, you need a rest," added Alice. "You lie down
now, and we'll pack your things for you. Not going to take a trunk; are
you?"
"No, only our suit-cases, though we can't tell how long we shall stay."
"Can we stay at the bungalow?" asked Hazel.
"Oh, I don't know about that. But if we get up there we can hardly get
back the same day, and we'll have to stay somewhere. There are hotels
and camps up there, I think. We'll have to arrange to stay."
"Of course," said Rose. "We don't want to go away as soon as we have
arrived."
"Then, too, I must see about getting a boat," went on Sylvia.
"I asked about that," Mrs. Brownley said. "The hotel clerk informs
me there are several we can hire to take us to Lower Saranac. I have
the names of the men who run them. I'll go now to see about them. You
_must_ get some rest, Sylvia."
"Oh, I'm not tired. I must see to the boat myself. This is my affair,
in a way."
"It's the affair of _all_ of us!" declared Alice. "You can't do
everything. I'll go with Aunt Theodora and see about the boat. You can
finish packing and be ready to lie down then. Just leave it to us!"
And poor tired and worried Sylvia was glad enough to do so.
Mrs. Brownley was eminently practical in arranging for the motor boat.
She had the choice of several, but, on the advice of Alice, selected a
rather small one.
"The big ones look nicer," Alice said, "but you must remember we have
to go through the Saranac River from the middle lake to the upper, and
we don't want a boat that draws too much water. Canoes can make the
trip all right, but a motor boat of deep draught might not be able to
if the water, for any reason, were low. We don't want to be stranded."
"No, indeed," agreed the chaperon. So the smaller boat, though one
sufficiently large, was engaged.
"But I'm only at liberty for to-morrow," the pilot informed them. "I'll
have to come back with my boat to-morrow night, as another party has
engaged her."
"We only want you to take us up to the Russman bungalow and leave us,"
said Mrs. Brownley.
So it was arranged, and the next morning our friends were to start on
their trip through the two lakes to reach the bungalow.
CHAPTER XXVI
A LONELY PLACE
From Saranac Inn, down through Upper Saranac Lake, to a point where
the turn could be made, to go through the middle body of water to
the lower, is, perhaps, seven miles. The remainder of the trip, up
past Eagle Island in Lower Saranac, and to the point where Professor
Russman's bungalow was located, was about ten miles more, so the
Nowadays Girls had a motor-boat trip of nearly seventeen miles to make.
Under ordinary circumstances, and in waters more open, the journey
would have been only a matter of a few hours at most. But from the very
start it seemed that Fate was against our friends.
Not that anything very serious occurred, but a series of small, but
annoying, delays ensued from the very beginning.
In the first place, the girls were so tired, after their trip to Lake
Clear, their preparations of the night and their previous exertions,
that they all slept late. Even Mrs. Brownley did not arise at her usual
time, and the consequence was they all assembled at the very latest
breakfast, and looked at one another rather strangely.
"This isn't a very good augury," said Sylvia. "But I was _so_ tired and
sleepy."
"So was I," said Alice.
"I'm hardly awake yet," confessed Hazel.
"Nor I," admitted Rose. "But we must hurry."
They did--to the extent of making a hasty breakfast. Then it developed
that their motor-boat man was not on hand ready for them. They had
gotten their luggage together and gone down to the dock, only to see
the _Balsam_, which was the name of the craft they had engaged, tied
disconsolately to the float, with her engine partly dismantled.
"Why, what does this mean?" demanded Sylvia, rather indignantly.
A small boy was the only person in sight from whom it seemed possible
to get any information. He seemed to be there for that purpose, for he
asked:
"Are you the party that's going to Lower Saranac?"
"Yes," Mrs. Brownley said, "but where is Mr. Wherry?" and she looked
around for the man from whom she had engaged the boat.
"He's sorry, lady," said the boy, and then he seemed overcome with
confusion. "He--he's----"
"Sorry? Sorry for what?" demanded Sylvia, brusquely.
"He's sorry he can't go."
"Can't go!" It was a protesting chorus.
"No'm. He can't go till he gits his engine fixed. Suthin's the matter
of it."
"Oh!" and Sylvia uttered a sigh of relief. "Then it isn't anything
serious."
"Huh! You'd think so if you heard Hank Wherry talk about it. But then
he makes a awful fuss over lots of things. He told me to stay here
until you folks come and tell you he'd be back as soon as he could.
He's gone off to get a bolt, or suthin' t' fix the engine."
"Oh, then he'll be back soon?" asked Hazel.
"I don't know how soon. Hank Wherry ain't much on hurryin'."
"Oh, why didn't I make inquiries about him and his boat before I
engaged it!" exclaimed Mrs. Brownley. "Now there isn't another craft we
can get, I suppose."
There was not, it developed, all the others available having gone to
fill other engagements.
"Never mind," said Sylvia. "We have plenty of time. It isn't such a
long trip, and even if we don't get there until late afternoon it
will be all right. We shall have to remain all night, anyhow; perhaps
longer."
The boy seemed to want to say something more, but hardly knew how to
proceed.
"Well, what is it?" asked Rose, taking pity on his embarrassment.
"He--he said--Hank said, maybe if I stayed here and told you what I did
tell you that you--that maybe--that you'd give me a nickel," the boy
stammered.
"Of course!" Sylvia exclaimed, opening her purse. "Here is a quarter
for you."
The boy's face shone with delight at this unexpected windfall of wealth.
"Do you know where Mr. Wherry went?" asked Mrs. Brownley.
"No'm, I don't. But maybe I could find him for you," he volunteered,
as he partly opened a brown hand and gazed at the shining coin clasped
tightly in it.
"I wish you would," Sylvia said. "Tell him we are in a hurry to make a
start. We are late, but he is later."
"The late Mr. Hank Wherry," murmured Hazel.
The boy started off, and the girls found a shady place on the little
pier to wait for their boatman. The _Balsam's_ engine had been partly
dismantled.
"He'll never be able to start to-day," said Alice.
"Oh, there isn't so much to do," Sylvia said, gazing with an
experienced eye at the machinery. "He's taken out the carburetor. I'd
rather have him repair it now than after we get started."
The other girls agreed with her.
They were just getting nervously impatient for the return of their
boatman, when they descried him hurrying back.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he apologised. "But I was giving the
motor a trial run, getting ready for you, when the carburetor began
making trouble, and I knew I'd have to have it fixed. But we can run
all the better now, and we'll make up for lost time."
"I hope so," said Mrs. Brownley. "How long will you be now?"
"Not more than half an hour."
But again Fate stepped in and disappointed the girls. For Mr. Wherry
was over an hour making the adjustments. So it was nearly noon when the
start was made from the dock near the Inn.
"Well, she is making good time," observed Sylvia, as they finally
chugged off in the _Balsam_.
"Oh, yes, miss. We'll be there in good season now. I'm sorry to have
delayed you, but I'll get you there in plenty of time."
It was the best that could be done under the circumstances, and there
seemed no help for it. Certainly the motor boat was at last running
well. The Nowadays Girls knew enough about machinery to decide that.
"The carburetor has been giving me trouble right along," said the
pilot, "and so I put on a new one."
They were passing through Upper Saranac, and the scene on every hand
was one of beauty. The day was a perfect one of warm sunshine, and the
waters of the lake sparkled invitingly. In the distance were the cool
woods, the unbroken forest stretching away on every side.
Here and there were other craft containing gay parties of summer
visitors. Now and then snatches of song floated across the water.
Sylvia and her chums were all in better spirits now that they were
actually on their way to see Roy. But in spite of the sunshine, and the
feeling of exhilaration that came from swiftly passing over the water,
Sylvia could not shake off a sense of foreboding.
"It's foolish, I know," she said to herself. "But I feel just as though
something were going to happen. Pshaw! I mustn't worry! I must be
bright and cheerful for Roy's sake. He'll need cheering up, I think."
They ate their lunch on the boat, for they had brought a substantial
one with them. Sylvia offered to steer while Mr. Wherry ate some of the
sandwiches they offered him from their store.
"No, I'd better keep the wheel," he said. "I can steer with one hand
and eat with the other. We'll be in uncertain waters soon."
This did not tend to reassure the girls, who had been made a little
nervous by the delay of the morning.
"Are we likely to--to have trouble?" asked Alice.
"Oh, well, nothing so much, miss," was the answer. "We may run aground
here and there, that's all. But I'll do my best."
"Well, don't run aground so hard that you can't run off again," begged
Sylvia.
The afternoon was half gone when they started on the passage through
Saranac River, connecting the middle lake with the lower body of water.
The stream, while perfectly adapted for canoes, was, at this season,
because of an unusually dry month, not so good for motor boats.