The Nowadays Girls in the Adirondacks or, The deserted bungalow on Saranac Lake
you girls do just as you please. I've been in gondolas on the Grand
Canal of Venice, and I'm not going to hold back when it comes to an
Adirondack guide-boat!"
"Suppose we leave that question until we get to Old Forge, and look the
ground--or, rather, the water--over," suggested Sylvia.
"Good!" assented Hazel.
"It's twelve miles through the first four lakes," went on Sylvia, "and
a steamer doesn't seem necessary. Then, after we get to the end of the
fourth lake there is a carry of one mile to the sixth lake."
"Just what is a carry?" asked Rose.
"It's where you have to carry your boat, and everything in it, over dry
land, from one body of water to another," said Sylvia.
"Do they actually carry the boats--I mean--would _we_ have to?" Hazel
wanted to know.
"We wouldn't. The guides, or boatmen, would do that, and they'd carry
all our luggage," Sylvia explained. "That's why they use canoes, and
very light boats, so they can easily be transported over the land
trails. Well, as I said, it's a one-mile carry from the fourth to the
sixth lake."
"My, she's a regular guide-book," mocked Alice.
"What about the fifth lake?" asked Rose.
"The carry is around that. It's winding and twisting, and one can make
better time going on land. Besides, that little lake may be filled with
stumps--and alligators--for all I know."
"Alligators--ugh!" exclaimed Hazel.
"Nonsense! No alligators up here," laughed Rose. "This isn't the
Everglades of Florida."
"Go on. What else, Sylvia?" asked Alice.
"Well, you canoe, or boat, through lakes six and seven, and then comes
another mile carry to lake eight, and when you get to the end of that
you're ready to----"
"Have supper and go to bed," finished Hazel, with a laugh.
"Perhaps," admitted Sylvia. "Anyhow, from the eighth lake to Brown's
Tract Inlet, which is the southern end of Raquette, is a carry of a
mile and a half."
"Going up!" called Alice, in imitation of an elevator boy.
"Well, that's the last carry for some time," said Sylvia.
"Thank goodness! It makes one tired to think of the poor men carting
those boats on their shoulders," cried Hazel.
"Well, now we're supposed to be on Raquette Lake," went on Sylvia, "and
that is quite a body of water. The book says there are brook trout,
lake trout, whitefish and bass in those waters, but I think they're not
all in season now."
"I didn't know fish had seasons, like oysters," murmured Alice.
"Oh, indeed they do," Sylvia declared, "and we must be true sporting
girls, and observe the game laws, too, if we do any fishing. If we
don't, well, we may be arrested, that's all."
"I'll let the guide do my fishing," murmured Alice, with a look at
her slim, white hands, which were set off wonderfully well by the
shimmering green emerald.
"Now that's the programme for the first part of our trip," resumed
Sylvia. "We can make the lake journey in a day, if we want to, or we
can stop off here and there as suits our fancy. We want to get the best
possible fun out of this vacation, so I think it's nice not to have any
set schedule, except as to where we are going to spend the night."
"Yes, it is always best to arrange for that in advance," agreed Mrs.
Brownley. "I wouldn't want any of you to be sleeping out in an open
camp in these woods at night. We must bow to some of the conventions,
even if you are Nowadays Girls," she added.
They telephoned from Fulton Chain to the inn at Old Forge, and managed
to engage rooms. On the little short line of railroad they made the
trip, arriving late in the afternoon, and going direct to the hotel.
Then, while waiting for supper, they went out to look at the lake, at
the end of which is located the quaint and pretty village.
"Oh, it is just perfect here, just perfect," murmured Sylvia. "Aren't
all you girls glad you came?"
"Aren't we, though--just!" cried Alice.
"It was sweet of you to think all this out for us," said Hazel.
"Oh, I'm enjoying it as much as you, if not more," was Sylvia's
rejoinder. "What's the matter, Rose? Why aren't you talking?" she
asked, in lower tones, for Rose was looking silently out over the
placid lake. "I imagine we are thinking of the same thing," went on
Roy's sister. "Never mind; we'll see him soon."
"I hope so," was the low-voiced answer.
There was to be a public dance at the hotel that night, as a number
of summer tourists and campers had arrived on the same train with the
girls. Among them were several young men who looked with eager, but
perfectly respectful, eyes at the girls.
"I'm sure they can dance," sighed Hazel, "and I do so want a good
partner. I wonder if there isn't a public introducer here!"
"Hazel Reed!" gasped Rose.
"That's perfectly proper nowadays," protested the Chicago girl. "It's
done all the while, especially during the summer. I'm going to ask Mrs.
Brownley."
Aunt Theodora considered the matter from several angles, and, after
a talk with the hotel proprietor and his wife, decided that the
girls might properly meet the young men. They were well known to the
hotel-keeper, and many others present, having been at the same camp for
a number of years in succession.
And so with little, delightful flutters of excitement and anticipation,
the girls opened their trunks and laid out some simple evening frocks
for the dance, which was to be semi-informal.
"Oh, they're playing that lovely Cecile hesitation," murmured Hazel,
as she and the others "floated" down to the ballroom, the dining-room
having been cleared for the occasion.
The girls found their young men partners no less eager than they
themselves, and soon the room presented a merry spectacle. It was the
first large hop of the season, rather marking the official opening, in
a measure, and the music was particularly good, for the musicians were
some college boys who had thus started to earn vacation money to help
pay their expenses.
"Oh, isn't it lovely!" whispered Alice, during an interval in the dance.
"Perfectly splendid!" echoed Sylvia. "Have you a good partner?"
"Oh, he dances like a dream!"
"Be careful you don't awaken and find it a nightmare."
"No danger. Oh, look! He's bringing some one up to introduce him, I do
believe. I don't care so much for him," and she indicated the youth,
who was approaching with her partner.
"Allow me," murmured George Watson, with whom Alice had been dancing,
and he presented another youth, who at once asked for a dance, and was
not refused, as Alice's partner had asked to take out Sylvia for the
next fox trot.
Alice's dislike of her newer acquaintance increased as the dance went
on. He was a good dancer, but he talked too much, and asked too many
questions, not altogether conventional. And he held Alice's hand in too
firm a grasp. She tried to impress her dislike on him without voicing
it in so many words, but he would not take a hint.
"That was fine!" he exclaimed, as they stood together in the middle
of the room, and applauded for an encore. "Wasn't it?" and he looked
rather too boldly into her eyes.
"The music is very nice--yes," she assented, a bit coldly. Then the
strains began again, and they danced off.
It was when Alice went with Sylvia to get a glass of lemonade, after
the sixth dance, that she made a discovery.
"Oh, my emerald ring!" she exclaimed, looking hastily down at the
floor. "It's gone--it isn't on my finger!"
"Are you sure you wore it downstairs?" asked Sylvia, knowing what a
commotion a report of anything valuable being lost occasions at a
hotel, and how much suspicion is cast thereby.
"Of course I had it. I remember that Mr. Watson remarked upon it, and
when I danced with the fellow he introduced--I think his name was
Tupson--the ring really hurt my hand, he squeezed it so!"
"Oh, Alice!"
"Well, he did! But my lovely emerald is gone, and it's worth I don't
know how much! I must speak to the proprietor right away."
"Tell Aunt Theodora first," suggested Sylvia. "But make sure it hasn't
slipped off into your glass of lemonade, or fallen into a fold of your
dress. Was the ring loose enough to come off easily?"
"Yes, too easily. My fingers seem to have shrunk, lately. I intended
to have the ring made smaller. But now it's gone. Oh, dear!" and there
were traces of tears in her eyes.
CHAPTER VII
OVERBOARD
There was a hurried search in the room where the girls then were, a
search that extended even to the pitcher of lemonade. But the gleaming
emerald was not found. Alice was becoming more and more upset every
moment, for, while the ring was hers, it was a very valuable one and
she knew her family would be most distressed at its loss.
"Oh, it must be found!" the girl cried.
Her chums were with her now. There was a little lull in the dance, and
refreshments were being sought.
"Whom were you with when you missed it?" asked Sylvia.
"I wasn't with any one exactly when I missed it, but I was dancing with
that Tupson fellow just before," and she related to Hazel and Rose what
she had previously told Sylvia.
"We must tell Aunt Theodora at once," was the decision the three girls
reached for Alice, since she was too nervous to decide for herself.
Mrs. Brownley raised her eyebrows in surprise when told of the
circumstance. She did not say, as she well might have done, at least in
her own opinion, that Alice should not have worn the ring in the first
place to a public dance, and in the second, she ought not to have
danced with a young fellow to whom she had taken a dislike.
But that was over and done with. The matter now uppermost was how to
recover the jewel, and that at the least cost of embarrassment.
"You don't dare ask him baldly whether he saw it, or felt it slip from
your finger," said Hazel.
"No-o-o-o," replied Alice, slowly, her eyes roving about the floor as
if she might see in some nook or corner the golden circlet with its
wonderful green stone.
"We must speak to the proprietor about it, and have him make an
announcement," decided Mrs. Brownley. "He can do that without
giving offence to any one. He can say that a valuable ring has been
lost--dropped, if you like--on the dancing-floor. No one can be
offended at that, not even the servants, and they are very quick to
take umbrage at the slightest imputation on their characters."
"That's very true," agreed Alice. "Yes, an announcement of that kind
can do no harm. Oh, isn't it horrid! And there's a lovely onestep
starting now," and in spite of her distress she could not refrain from
humming some of the airs in the medley the musicians were then playing.
"You girls stay here, and leave this to me," said Aunt Theodora. "I'll
speak to the proprietor," and she went out in her most majestic manner,
fairly sweeping her way along.
The music stopped with a crash, and the dancers out on the waxen floor
looked wonderingly one at the other.
"What is it?" was on the lips of all.
The Nowadays Girls looked out from the little room where they had been
refreshing themselves with lemonade. They saw the hotel proprietor
advance to the middle of the floor, and at once an excited whisper ran
around.
"They think he's going to stop the dancing, because--well perhaps
because it is too 'advanced' for this wilderness," whispered Hazel.
"Listen!" urged Rose.
The announcement was made, with the request that if the ring were found
it be left at the hotel office. Then the music began once more, and the
dancing was resumed.
"Come on, Alice, aren't you going out again?" asked Rose, for Alice sat
down in a chair, her face having lost all its brightness.
"Oh, I don't feel a bit like dancing. I must find my ring!"
The other girls were out on the floor now, near the doorway of the