A CALL FOR HELP
"Hippy, did you know that I saved your life to-night?" asked Emma Dean as the party neared their camp.
"You—you saved my life?" questioned Lieutenant Wingate in amazement.
"Uh-huh."
Hippy laughed uproariously.
"You poor child, you got us all in Dutch, that's what you really did."
"With your assistance, Hippy," interjected Anne. "How did you save his life, please, Emma?"
"I con-centrated. When Lum pointed the revolver at Hippy, I put my mind on making him miss his aim. He did, didn't he?"
"Yes," agreed the girls, Hippy saying nothing at all.
"Then, I con-centrated on him that he might not shoot again. He didn't, did he?"
"Of course, you are right in what you say," agreed Nora. "He did miss and he did not shoot again, but I think you are drawing the long bow, darlin', in taking all the credit to yourself. What do you say, Hippy?" she asked solemnly.
"Nothing! Nothing at all. After I have had an opportunity to consult a dictionary perhaps I may make a few appropriate remarks."
The party, with the exception of Emma, after a hearty laugh, fell to discussing the incidents of the evening, particularly the mysterious shot that, perhaps, had saved Lieutenant Wingate's life. They were still discussing that mysterious occurrence when they rode up to their camp.
Washington Washington, who had been silent all the way home, perhaps thinking over the narrow escape that he had had from rough handling, suddenly set up a wail and began to chatter so fast that they were unable to make a single thing of what he was saying.
"Stop that!" commanded Hippy. "Have you gone crazy?"
"Something is wrong here, darlin'. Don't scold the boy," begged Nora Wingate.
"The tents are down. Washington, build a fire. Be quick about it," directed Grace, leaping from her pony.
Anne, who had reached what had been her own tent, uttered an exclamation of dismay.
"Girls, this tent has been slit into ribbons!" she cried.
"So has mine," cried Elfreda. "What has happened here?"
"That is what I am wondering," replied Grace. "Washington, please hurry with that fire."
Hippy ran over and assisted the colored boy, who was fumbling about and not accomplishing anything. In a few moments Hippy had a fire snapping. By its light they looked about in amazement. The camp was a wreck. Every tent in their outfit had been slit to pieces, tent poles had been broken up, and such other equipment as they had left out, including three blankets, which had been overlooked when they hid their belongings, had been practically destroyed.
A sudden thought occurring to her, Anne ran on fleet feet to the place where their provisions and equipment had been secreted. She found the stones torn away from the opening and their supplies scattered about. The ground about the opening to the hiding place was littered with them.
Her next move was to look for their rifles and ammunition. A moment later she ran breathlessly into camp.
"The equipment has been scattered, but the rifles and ammunition are as we left them," panted Anne. "This is a fright."
"There! Why didn't you 'con-centrate,' Emma Dean?" demanded Hippy. "Old Con-centration is never on the job when he is really needed."
"How could I when I didn't know anything about this?" returned Emma, with a sweeping gesture that took in the entire camp. "What are we going to do now? Where are we to sleep, I ask you?"
"Sleep standing up just as the ponies do, my darlin'," suggested Nora. "Who do you suppose could have done such a thing? Why—"
Washington, who had gone out to tether the horses, set up a howl that called the Overlanders to him on a run.
"Dey done got de mule! Dey done got de mule!" he wailed. "What Ah gwine do now? Ah doan like dis nohow. Ah sure gwine took er frenzy spell if dis doan stop right smart."
"The mule?" gasped Anne. "Why—wha—"
The pack mule that had been left at the camp, they saw laying stretched out on the ground, its halter still tied to a sapling. Hippy was now standing over it, peering down at the animal. Stooping over, he examined it briefly.
"Somebody has done it this time. The mule is dead, folks," he announced, standing up. "Shot through the head. It seems our friends have not yet deserted us."
"This is an outrage!" muttered Elfreda.
Grace turned on her lamp and went over the ground about the mule, examining the dirt for footprints as carefully as possible. Next she visited the hiding place of their provisions and equipment, there to make the same careful, painstaking search of the ground.
"Hob-nail boots. I find the imprint of the same boots in both places. One man apparently did all of this," was her conclusion.
"Such as all these mountaineers wear," added Anne.
"Perhaps, but I do not believe it. These boots had a horseshoe of hob-nails on each heel. Look at the footprints in the morning and see for yourself."
"Wait!" exclaimed Miss Briggs. "I have a thought."
"Hold it," called Hippy. "We need real thought this very minute."
"Have you forgotten what Julie said to us?" asked Elfreda. "I believe this is what she meant by her remark that we would find out for ourselves soon enough."
"She knew, then!" exclaimed Nora.
"I believe she did, though how, I am at a loss to understand," answered Elfreda.
"Girls, girls! Don't waste time talking," urged Grace. "We have work to do, unless you folks prefer to sleep in the open to-night. I believe we can mend enough of this canvas to use as a big blanket. We can then sleep together and keep each other warm underneath it, I think. Washington, please go out and gather up all of the stuff that you can find. Some of our provisions have been destroyed, but there may be enough for a few meals. Fetch everything here so we can look it over by the campfire."
All hands set to work to make the best of their disaster, and as they worked they discussed the problem uppermost in the mind of each. They were busily engaged when a shout brought instant silence to the group.
"Miss Gray! Miss Gray!" some one called from the darkness.
"Yes," answered Grace.
A woman came floundering along the trail at the edge of the cornfield.
"It's Miss Thompson. Ah wants Miss Gray."
"She seems excited," observed Emma.
"What is it, Mrs. Thompson?" called Grace, stepping out to meet the mountaineer's wife.
"The chilern has took a frenzy, an' Ah don't know what t' do," cried the woman, wringing her hands.
Slipping an arm through hers, Grace led the woman up to the campfire.
"Compose yourself. Now what is the trouble? Are the children sick?" she asked.
"Yes'm. An' Jed's gone away an' Ah don't know what t' do. Ah thought as mebby ye'd come up to the house an' see."
"I surely will. Miss Briggs, who was a nurse in the war, will be of more assistance to you than I could be, so I will take her with me."
Jed Thompson's wife heaved a deep sigh. A load already had been lifted from her mind.
"Ah didn't think ye'd come, but Julie said as you'd come right smart."
"Julie was right," smiled Grace, "even though we are in rather bad shape here. Some one nearly destroyed our camp while we were at the dance. I will be back before long," she added, speaking to her companions. "Come, Elfreda."
On the way to the Thompson cabin the two girls questioned Mrs. Thompson as to what ailed Lizzie and Sue, those being the names of the two sick children. They were able to make but little out of her description of the children's condition.
The sick ones were babbling when Grace and Miss Briggs entered the room. Elfreda sniffed the air.
"I smell fever. Open the windows, Mrs. Thompson. You must have air in this room."
Julie, her face wearing a frightened look, sat regarding the children, both of whom were delirious. A look of relief flashed into her eyes as Grace and Miss Briggs entered and Elfreda stepped directly to the bed on which both children lay. She felt the pulse of each, looked into their mouths, and listened to their breathing.
"High Fever?" Murmured Grace.
"High fever?" murmured Grace questioningly.
"Yes. Very high. I wish I had a clinical thermometer. Make her throw those windows open as far as they will go, and, if that doesn't give enough air, open the door."
The entire family lived, ate and slept in the one room of the cabin, and the air, normally bad enough, was infinitely worse now.
"How long have they been this way, Mrs. Thompson?" questioned Elfreda.
"They was took that-away t'-night. They ain't been right smart fer some little time."
Miss Briggs and Grace consulted aside. At the conclusion of their consultation, carried on in low tones, Elfreda turned to the mountain woman.
"These children must have a doctor without delay, Mrs. Thompson. Where is the nearest doctor to be found?"
The woman said the nearest one was at Holcomb Court House.
"We passed through there on our way here, did we not?" asked Elfreda.
"Yes," replied Grace. "It must be twenty miles or so from here. Have you any one that you can send there for the doctor?"
Mrs. Thompson shook her head.
"Mah man's gone awa' an' won't be back till t'-morrow. Ain't no one else that Ah knows 'bout."
"Do you think it would be safe to wait until morning, Elfreda?" asked Grace.
"No. The little one's heart is not acting right. We must have treatment for her as soon as possible."
"Very well. I will hurry back to camp. Hippy must go after the doctor, though I really hate to ask him. What do you think is the matter with them?" nodding toward the bed.
"Frankly, I don't know. I do know that they are very sick children."
"Poor Hippy," murmured Grace, a faint smile on her face, as she hurried from the mountain cabin and started at a run towards the Overland Riders' camp.