The Nowadays Girls in the Adirondacks or, The deserted bungalow on Saranac Lake
and there by trails along which the search must now be made for the
missing young man.
"What is the first thing to do?" asked Mrs. Brownley, as they pushed
back their chairs from the table. The chaperon was one of those
efficient women who like things done decently and in order, even when
there was such an emergency matter as the search for a lost person. She
was a great believer in system, and the new doctrine of efficiency.
"I think we shall go down to the house of one of the guides, whom
Adolph was to see last night," answered the professor. "Old Sam may
have some news. Yes, that is what we shall do first."
"And after that?" asked Sylvia.
"It all depends. But don't get discouraged, my dear, if we do not have
word from your brother at once. He may be in the woods for several days
and nights before we find him."
Sylvia uttered a low cry of protest.
"Oh, no--no!" she exclaimed.
"But there will be comparatively little danger," Mr. Russman said. "It
is the height of summer. It would do no harm to spend several nights in
the open. But there are many shelters and open camps in the woods, and
your brother is enough of a woodsman to build a shelter for himself, is
he not?"
"Under ordinary circumstances, yes," Sylvia answered. "But if he is
delirious----"
"Which I am convinced he was, or he never would have rushed out the
way he did," Mr. Russman said. "It is better to face the worst, and
then every little we can remove makes us so much better off. Even a
delirious man would be able to realise that he must have shelter. But,
even without it, he would suffer little in the woods at this season."
"There are no wild beasts; are there?" asked Alice.
"No, young lady. At least, not around here. Deer are the largest
animals, but the hunting season is closed, so there is no danger of an
accident from guns.
"Oh, do not worry! I am sure we shall find Roy all right and that he
will not suffer. If we cannot locate him ourselves I will cause a
general alarm to be sounded. All the guides, canoemen, campers and
cottagers of the vicinity will be glad to join in the search. It is
often done up here when a person is lost in the woods."
"Does that often happen?" asked Rose.
"Oh, yes, and in nearly every case they are found again. Of course it
is easy to get lost, for the trails are confusing to one who does not
know them," the professor said. "But we will hope for the best. We,
ourselves, followed Roy as far as we could last night, but he eluded
us. However, perhaps my son and Harry will have had better success.
"Now we will go to Old Sam's house. He is one of the best guides in
this region, and Adolph knows him well. He will be able to advise us.
Do not be discouraged."
He spoke hopefully--cheerfully--and put heart into Sylvia and the
others.
It was an almost tragic turn to the Adirondack outing of the Nowadays
Girls. They had been so happy but a comparatively short time before--at
the dance--the masquerade. Would Sylvia, at least, and would Rose ever
be so happy again? Or would the shadow of the lost one always hover
over them? They feared this, yet they did not like to admit that fear
even to themselves.
Even the loveliness of the woods and the lake, and the entrancing
situation of the Russman bungalow, failed to arouse any sense of
appreciation in Sylvia and her friends. They looked at it without
seeing. They had been extended the warmest hospitality by Mr. and Mrs.
Russman, and made to feel perfectly at home. And Sylvia and her friends
were truly grateful. But they could not shake off the feeling of gloom.
"Shall you let your folks know Roy is missing?" asked Hazel.
"Not at once," Sylvia replied. "It would only cause them great pain and
sorrow, and perhaps unnecessarily. We may find him to-day. If we do
not, and if he remains unfound after to-night, then, of course, I must
let papa know. He would want to engage a posse of men and find him.
But we will make the search ourselves first."
"Bravo!" cried Professor Russman when he heard this. "That is the right
spirit! I am sure we shall have success."
Leaving the servants and Mrs. Russman in the bungalow, the girls
accompanied the professor into the woods, along the forest trail that
led to the cabin of Old Sam, a veteran guide.
Sylvia tried to induce Mrs. Brownley to remain also, but the chaperon
insisted on going with her charges.
"Your mothers depend on me, and I am not going to desert now," she
said, firmly.
"But it is such a trial for you," objected Sylvia. "It is too much to
expect you to tramp through the woods."
"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed the sturdy lady. "I am not like some
modern girls, who can only dance one fox trot an evening. I was brought
up to take long walks. And you seem to forget that I have done some
mountain climbing in the Alps. If I could stand that, surely I can
stand our Adirondack woods in summer. Now don't talk any more about
leaving me behind, for I simply shan't stay. Go along!"
Professor Russman looked admiringly at the chaperon. His own wife was
an accomplished woods-woman, but it was necessary that some one in
authority remain at the bungalow, and she volunteered for that waiting
service. Roy might wander back, or her son or Harry Montray might
return, and they would not know what to expect if only the servants
were there to explain matters.
Our friends had brought their most needed luggage with them. They had
expected to go to some hotel or wood-camp near the Russman bungalow,
but though there was one not far off, Mr. Russman would not hear
of their leaving him and his wife. There was plenty of room in the
bungalow, he insisted, which was perfectly true, and they would want to
be there to hear the first news--good or bad.
But Rose and Sylvia, almost with tears in their eyes, refused to admit
the possibility of anything but good tidings.
From their cases the girls and Mrs. Brownley took stout walking shoes,
short skirts of a kind to defy brambles and briars, and with a lunch, a
portable coffee outfit, and other necessaries and some medicines, they
fared forth.
Somehow or other the spirits of all rose as they started off on the
search. It was the very fact of doing something, and not sitting in the
darkness, waiting, that caused this. The energy of work drove out the
bad spirits of inactivity.
Professor Russman showed Sylvia and the others where Roy had entered
the woods as he rushed from the table the night before, when the
delirium so unaccountably seized him. It was a well-travelled trail,
and of course no special footprints could be seen. Presently this
trail branched off into several others, and there was no way of telling
which path Roy had followed.
"But perhaps Old Sam can tell us," Mr. Russman said, hopefully.
Their hopes, however, were doomed to disappointment. Sam was at home.
He told of the visit of Adolph and Harry and described the plan of
procedure he had mapped out for them. He had told the two young men to
come back if they were unsuccessful, and then new plans would be made.
"Well, we will start from your cabin, and make a general search until
my son and Harry come back," said the scientist. "We may come upon Roy
unexpectedly."
The search was taken up, but at noon had brought no results. Sam
himself had gone off on a little-used trail. He said he would search
along that, and also take word to some fellow-guides.
Our friends ate the lunch they had brought with them, and, after a
rest, started forth again. But as the afternoon shadows lengthened, and
their shouts and cries, as well as their close scrutiny, had resulted
in nothing, discouragement again held them all in its fearsome grip.
"We had better go no farther," Professor Russman said at length, as he
noted how near the sun was to setting. "We had better go back."
"And give up?" asked Rose.
"Only for the night. Unacquainted with the woods as we are, we might
become lost ourselves, and that would be bad. We must go back, and
leave what night-searching can be done to the guides and canoemen."
With heavy hearts they retraced their steps to Old Sam's cabin. They
found Adolph and Harry waiting for them. It was the first time Sylvia
and her friends had seen Roy's companion since the two had come to the
mountains. There was a meeting that was as happy as possible under the
circumstances. Harry told more details of Roy's case.
"He was on the road to recovery when this happened," he said, sadly.
"Perhaps if I had not allowed him to make this trip----"
"It wasn't your fault at all!" interrupted Sylvia, quickly. "We must
think now of what to do next."
"Send out a general alarm, I should say," broke in Professor Russman.
"I think so," agreed his son, and Harry nodded his acquiescence.
"It's the only thing left," declared Old Sam. "I'll spread the word,"
and taking down a conch horn from his cabin wall he blew a deep mellow
blast, that echoed and echoed again through the forest.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE SEARCH
Long blasts and short blasts did Old Sam blow on the mellow conch horn
as, with his lips pressed to the opening, he puffed out his cheeks. Now
the sound would almost die away, to blare out again with a suddenness
that startled the girls.
"What--what does it mean?" faltered Sylvia.
"It sounds like something I heard when once I was in Scotland,"
commented Mrs. Brownley. "An old chieftain thus summoned the members of
his clan."
"It's the general alarm," explained Harry. "The guides have a way
of signalling to one another that way. They can send all sorts of
messages. This one is to summon all who hear the horn to join in a
search."
"How good of them!" Sylvia said.
"Do they often gather together this way for a general alarm?" asked
Alice.
"Occasionally," explained Adolph, who had spent nearly all of his
summers in the Adirondacks. "Now and then a hunter will wander away
from his camp, or become separated from his party and have to be found
in this way."
"Are there any who are never found?" questioned Rose, in a low voice,
and in an aside to Harry.
He paused a moment before answering. A look into her face showed how
much in earnest she was. Harry decided upon his answer.
"They always find them," he said, speaking cheerfully. He did not add
that sometimes the missing ones were found too late. What was the need
of frightening Rose?
"How long will it be before you and your friends will be ready to start
out on the search?" asked Mr. Russman of the old guide.
"We will start in the morning," he said. "The men will gather here
to-night, and I'll tell them what's up. We'll start out as soon as
it's light enough to see, and that will be about three o'clock in the
morning these days."
"Can't we do anything?" asked Sylvia. "We want to help, oh, so much!"
Old Sam looked at her keenly. He must have understood her feelings.
Then Rose broke in with:
"Oh, _please_ let us do something! It is terrible just to sit and wait!"
Old Sam nodded his head sagely.
"Yes, I know," he said, in a low voice. "I had a brother once lost in
these woods."
"Did they find him again?" asked Hazel, eagerly.
"Oh, yes, miss. But it was some time, and----But there! we'll find
_this_ young man, all right!" and he changed his voice to a more
cheerful tone.
"And may we help?" repeated Sylvia, eagerly.
"Yes," said Sam. "If I were you I'd not go too far from the bungalow,
though. What I mean is that your brother may return unexpectedly. In
fact he may not be far from here now, but he may be going around in
a sort of circle. If he was as ill as you say he was, he probably
wouldn't go very far.
"But my friends and I will take in all the trails within a circle of