CHAPTER XXIV
A LONELY RIDE
No sooner had Dorothy paddled around the bend in the stream that ledinto the river, than she heard the alarm bell of the sanitarium ring.
"That's the alarm for me!" she told herself, "but they can never seeme in this narrow pass. How fortunate that no one saw me take theboat. And I suppose they think I escaped from the front gate duringthe excitement about the horse."
Dorothy was right in her surmise. So reasonable did it seem that shehad passed out by the front gate, when the guards came to the rescueof those in danger from the frightened horse, that no one thought oflooking at the rear of the institution.
"I wonder where I am going?" she thought. "Perhaps this river runsinto a dangerous rapid. I have always heard that Maine waters are fullof surprises."
"At any rate, this is lovely," she went on musingly, "and, somehow, Ifeel that I will get back to camp before nightfall."
The water was as smooth as glass, and in the sunshine that everymoment became more insistant, Dorothy, in her linen dress, paddledaway with all the skill she had acquired in dear old Glenwood Schoollake. She had discarded the nurse's cap, and the coat, and as her ownsuit was beneath the linen, she was only waiting for an opportunity todiscard the skirt.
"It pulls," she thought. "I might as well drop it now."
At this she stood up in the canoe very cautiously, and with one moveof her hand dropped the skirt into the bottom of the boat. "There,that's more like paddling," she thought.
Adjusting herself again, she picked up the blade and plied it throughthe clear water.
Suddenly the report of a gun startled her! Was it at her that the shothad been fired?
Glancing over at the bank she saw something fall.
Could some person have been shot? The season for shooting was notopened, but perhaps----
Then her alarm subsided. A man, who looked like an Indian, or alumberman, was pulling at something--it was a beautiful young deer!
Indignation filled her heart. But what could she do? Alone on thatwater, and that man so near with his gun!
Fortunately, he was so interested in looking at his game that hethought it not worth while to look at whoever might be passing in theskiff; so, once more, Dorothy slid out of danger down the placidstream.
In all her trouble she had kept the little watch and her compass, andjust now it occurred to her that by consulting the magnetic instrumentshe could tell whether she was going in the direction of Everglade.
She paused in her action to look at the trembling needle.
"Yes, I am going toward camp--due east."
How lightly she paddled along! It seemed now that the sanitarium waspast finding, for the noise of the bell and the whistle had ceased,and that everything, even the talking of the man to himself as hepulled the deer over his shoulders, was gone, and Dorothy was allalone on the delightful lake, moving toward camp. It all seemed likesome horrible dream--all but the thought that she was going back--backto her dear ones, who must be so anxious.
"I hope I have saved poor Miss Bell," she thought. "That girl seemedto dread something more than the mere mistake in taking me in insteadof the other patient."
She slowed up, to gather some water lilies. "I'll take them toCologne," she thought. "I wonder where the girls are? I supposescouring the country for me. Well, Tavia must have been found, at anyrate. Poor foolish Tavia! I hope they have not blamed her."
A gentle swish of the water startled her. She turned to see two canoesapproaching!
"Are they after me?" she thought, and her heart jumped. "I must havesome excuse ready if they question me. I will just say I am from CampCapital, and have come out for exercise. They may not know how faraway our camp is."
She heard the other paddles in the lake. Then they ceased to cut thewater. On either side of her canoe the two other craft suddenlyappeared.
"What if this boat is marked!" she thought. "If it should have somelettering to show it is from the sanitarium!"
That was the first time this had occurred to her. But the canoeistswere now actually looking very pleasantly at her--two young men. Theyseemed too well-mannered to speak, and Dorothy wanted so much to speakwith them, now that she felt they had no idea of her predicament.
Finally one said: "We beg your pardon, but might you have a bit ofcanvas, that you could let us take? We have a small leak in the sideof this canoe and the water is coming in."
Dorothy breathed a sigh of relief. Then she looked about herboat--although she knew it was quite empty when she slid it into thewater.
"I'm afraid not," she replied. "I never carry anything for such anemergency."
"It's a delightful morning," said the other young man, out of purecivility. "Have you been out long?"
"Oh, no, not very--that is, it does not seem long to me," stammeredDorothy still afraid that she would be caught in some new trap. "Ilove the water."
"You seem to," agreed the young man with the college cap. "We havebeen out with a searching party. Have you heard of the strangedisappearance of two young girls?"
Dorothy gasped. "Two?" she repeated.
"I suppose we ought to say three, since one from a sanitarium has notyet been discovered. But the insane, they say, have some weird mannerof attracting self preservation."
"Have they been dragging the lake?" asked Dorothy, her voice alla-tremble.
"No, not yet, although many have wanted to. But we have so many peoplelost in these woods every summer, that we feel it is a case of thatkind. We suppose the girls, who did not go off together, met latersomehow, and in trying to make their way back, got deeper into thewoods."
"And their folks from camp?" asked Dorothy.
"We have not been to see them," said the young man, "but some of theboys there are friends of ours, and as soon as we have looked thisplace over, as well as we can do it, we are going up to Everglade. Thegirl's father is an old soldier, and they say he is still a soldier inthis trouble."
Dorothy felt as if she must speak--must ask them to take her back tothe camp, wherever it might be. But suppose they should take her forthat demented girl? No, she must find her way on alone. Perhaps shecould follow them.
By this time the two canoeists had glided on ahead. Dorothy felt as ifher heart would choke her! Then her father was still bearing up,waiting for her! She must soon reach him!
A shout from the bank, and the two young men turned into shore. "Comeon," some one called. "We have a clew. Get in here. We must get overto----"
But that was all Dorothy heard, and again she was alone on the lake.
For the space of a moment or so she felt that she had made a mistake,then came the awful thought of that sanitarium, and the knowledge thatthe people from there were searching everywhere for her.
"No, I will go down the lake a little farther. At least I am freenow," she told herself.
It was nearing noon, she could tell by the sun, and she felt the needof food. Just below her she could see that the lake broadened, andthere she determined to stop.
Her arms were getting stiff, and the sun burned down on her head,which was uncovered.
"Seems to me I hear voices," she thought. "I must go in to shore."
Gracefully she swung into the grassy bank. No sooner had her paddlesent her boat within reach of shore than she saw----
"Oh, my! It is our camp!" she yelled frantically, jumping out, andattempting to run up the hill toward the barn. But eager ears hadheard her voice.
The next moment Dorothy Dale was clasped in the arms of her father.