FINDING A SUNBEAM
At first Phil found it hard to believe he heard aright.
"I've known cats to make sounds like a baby crying, when they were facing each other, and ready to scrap," he told himself.
The more he listened the stronger grew his conviction.
"Even if it turns out to be a pair of spitting young bobcats," he concluded, "I'd like to snap 'em off. As to a child, what would one be doing away up here in this wilderness, unless—by George, now, that might be it."
He had suddenly remembered how they found the little cap, yes, and a baby silver thimble in the cabin.
It was no trouble at all to locate the source of the sounds. The sobs continued as he advanced. In a few minutes Phil was gazing with considerable surprise upon a figure outstretched on the ground.
He could see it was a little girl, possibly four years old. She had golden curls, and when she looked up suddenly at hearing his footsteps Phil discovered that she was as pretty as a fairy.
Just then she looked a little forlorn, since her face was soiled from the dirt, and tears had made furrows down her cheeks.
She scrambled to her feet, and seemed hardly to know whether to try and run away, or put her childish trust in this strange boy.
Now Phil was always a favorite with younger children. They all loved him because he had such a pleasant face, engaging laugh, and seemed to know just how to appeal to a child's heart.
Few boys care to bother with little tots; they only appear as a nuisance in their eyes. Phil, however, was different.
"Hello! here, little girl, what's all the trouble about?" he asked, cheerily; and somehow there must have been magic in his voice, for the look of fear left the child's face immediately.
She recognized a friend in need. As a rule children, just the same as most dogs do, have an instinct that tells them who to trust.
"I'se losted!" she said, simply, with a little sob in her voice.
Phil had now reached her side. She did not shrink from him as he bent down and put his hand gently on her curly head. Something that she saw in his kind eyes, perhaps the vein of sympathy so pronounced in his tones, told her this strange boy could be safely trusted.
"Now, that's too bad," Phil went on to say, just as if he himself had been "losted" and hence knew how it felt. "But who are you lost from?"
"Daddy," she said, simply, as though taking it for granted that every one must know who was implied by that term; because to her mind there was only one "daddy" on earth.
Phil believed he saw it all now. The man who had occupied the cabin, had this child with him. For some unknown reason he had taken alarm, perhaps because of their coming to the lonely lake, and made a hurried change of base.
Why he had prowled around on that first night it was of course impossible for the boy to say, unless he simply meant to satisfy himself with regard to their intentions.
And now the little girl had managed to lose herself in the woods. No doubt the father would be searching everywhere for her.
Phil thought it all over, even while he was soothing the child and telling her he would see to it that she found "daddy" again.
He could not leave her there in the open pine woods, that was sure, and since there could be no immediate way of learning the present abode of the mysterious man, the only thing left for Phil to do was to take the little girl to camp with him.
In due time no doubt the father was sure to turn up there to claim the child. They would try to convince him that it was none of their business what made him hide away from his fellows as he was doing.
So Phil made up his mind.
He had by this time managed to distract the child's thoughts from her troubles. Indeed, this was no difficult task for Phil Bradley. Already she had laughed at something he had said. When Phil heard what a sweet laugh that was he immediately told himself:
"I warrant that there's a man chasing wild through the woods right now, trying to find this little sunbeam. I know I'd be, if I missed a merry laugh like that at my fireside."
"My name is Phil," he told her, "and won't you tell me yours?"
"Why, it's Mazie," she quickly answered.
"Mazie what?" he continued.
"No, just only Mazie," the little girl told him positively.
Phil was baffled, for he had hoped to learn "daddy's" name. He did not attempt anything further along that line.
"Now, Mazie," he went on to say, "you'll come with me, won't you? You must be hungry, and want some lunch. We'll find daddy pretty soon, you know, and you wouldn't want to stay out here in the woods all by yourself?"
She looked alarmed at the mere suggestion of such a thing. It pleased the boy to notice how eagerly she seized his outstretched hand, to which she clung confidingly.
"Oh! no, 'cause I'm afraid. I saw a bear, a big bear once. Daddy shooed it away from our house. And oh! it whiffed and whiffed just awful. Please take me with you—Phil."
"Just what I'll do, Mazie. You see I have three friends, all boys who will be glad to see you. And when daddy comes he can take you back home."
"Home!"
The child repeated the word after him. There was a bewildered look on her face. Phil judged from this that some memory was awakening.
"Home—daddy—muzzer!" he heard her say almost in a whisper.
"Oh! you didn't tell me that your mother was up here, too; is she with daddy, Mazie?" Phil asked her, as they walked slowly along.
She looked up. The wistful glow in her eyes gave the boy a strange feeling.
"Oh! no. Muzzer gone far away. She never come to her little girl now," he heard her say; and somehow the thought that she meant her mother was dead kept Phil from questioning her any further.
The little thing had evidently already recovered from her recent grief. She trusted in Phil, and believed that it would only be a matter of a short time before he would bring "daddy."
In her eyes Phil was a magician. Nothing could be beyond his power to accomplish. That is what the faith of a child means.
She prattled all the way along, and yet it was pretty much about the woods, the flowers she liked to pick, the noisy scolding squirrels, and how daddy had always watched over her so carefully since they came up here, ever and ever so long ago.
Not once did she refer to any former life. It seemed to be in the nature of a closed book with the child.
Phil was waiting to see how she acted when they came in sight of the cabin, for he felt sure she must recognize it. She pointed to several things, even telling him that the tree with the dead top was where "bushy-tail" lived and had a family, so daddy said, and daddy knew everything.
All at once the child gave a cry. She had discovered the cabin.
"Oh! I live here!" she burst out, and disengaging her hand from that of her champion she flew to the open door and burst in, shrilly crying:
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Imagine the astonishment of Lub. He happened to be sitting tailor fashion on the floor sewing a button on that he had burst off, Ethan told him when he gorged so much the evening before.
Hearing a flutter, and then that cry in a childish voice, Lub turned to see what he thought at first must be a specter.
The little girl was abashed to find only a stranger there. Her sudden hopes being so suddenly dissolved brought the tears again into her eyes.
But Phil quickly managed to brighten her up. And Lub was ready to do almost anything to please the little miss, even to trying to stand on his head had she demanded it.
Then along came the other fellows. Of course both of them were as much astonished as Lub had been, but at the same time showed that they were not sorry to have such a little sunbeam around.
Among themselves, of course, they talked it all over, and knew that Mazie must be the child who had been the sole companion of the lonely occupant of the cabin.
"Too bad if it turns out he's a scoundrel, and a law breaker, with such a bully little girl belonging to him."
X-Ray Tyson said this, looking as he spoke at the suspiciously new coin he had picked out of a crack in the floor, and which he fully believed had been molded right there in that isolated cabin.
"Don't count too much on that," remarked Phil; "you can tell that she loves daddy above everything on earth. He can't be so very wicked, I guess."
As the day wore on all of them took turns in amusing the little girl. She proudly showed them a number of things that she had been in the habit of playing with when she "lived here."
Not once did she speak of a former life. Everything seemed to be associated with "daddy." And as the other boys had been told by Phil what he thought in connection with her mother being dead, of course they were careful not to mention the word, for fear it might cause her sudden grief.
During the afternoon her merry laugh was heard frequently. Childish troubles soon fade away. And surely a little girl could not wish for a better lot of "big brothers" than these four boys seemed to be. They anticipated her every wish, and after a while Mazie even seemed to look upon them in the light of old and tried friends.
Phil had arranged it that while their little guest honored them with her company she was to have his bunk. He could make himself fairly comfortable on the floor, somehow. A bunch of hemlock browse would do for a mattress, and if the fire was kept up a blanket was hardly necessary.
Phil felt a little fearful that at night she might miss a familiar figure, and cry herself to sleep wanting "daddy." He was agreeably disappointed, however. Mazie ate supper with her protectors, and cuddled down in the arms of Lub, to whom she had taken a great fancy. Perhaps it was because he had so much to do with the getting of meals, although it was hardly a fair thing to say that, because Lub was kindness itself.
There she was finally discovered fast asleep. Lub insisted on them leaving her with her head on his shoulder for a long time.
Finally, Ethan and Phil having come back, after setting the flashlight arrangement in a new place, they managed to carry the sleeping child to the bunk provided, without arousing her.
The night passed quietly.
Phil would not have been surprised had a heavy summons on the door brought them all to their feet, and upon opening up to find an almost distracted man anxiously inquiring as to whether they had seen anything of a lost child.
Nothing of the kind occurred.
Wherever "daddy" could be searching for the missing one as yet he failed to turn his attention to the cabin where until recently he had lived in retirement, a hermit, as X-Ray Tyson called him.
Another dawn came.
Breakfast was prepared in almost abject silence. The little girl was still sleeping. All of the boys had tiptoed up and taken a peep at her lying there, as though hardly able to believe it could be so.
Phil had washed her face and hands the first thing, and with her rosy cheeks and lips, with the masses of golden, natural curls she certainly looked, as Lub expressed it, "pretty enough to eat."
So breakfast was prepared almost in silence. When any of them found occasion to speak it was laughable to see how they got their heads together and whispered.
Just before Lub had breakfast ready to serve, Mazie called out to Phil, and was soon ready to sit down at the table with two of her newfound friends, there not being room for all.
X-Ray, thinking to pick up some information, called the child's attention to the scorched places on the heavy board, apparently done with molten metal.
"See what daddy did!" he went on to say; and immediately the others, guessing his game, waited to see the result.
The little girl looked from X-Ray down to the scarred surface of the table. She shook her head vigorously in the negative, and looked indignant.
"Daddy didn't!" she exclaimed, with a vigor that settled that question.
"These marks were here when you came, were they, Mazie?" asked Phil.
This time she nodded her little curly head in the affirmative.
No more was said. X-Ray took out his new fifty cent piece and looked hard at it—but if he half intended asking the child whether she had ever seen any like it he changed his mind. Perhaps he did not fancy looking into those clear blue eyes, and coaxing the child to unconsciously betray her "daddy."
After breakfast the boys started to do various things. Ethan and X-Ray Tyson were more than ever bent upon fishing. They counted exactly even now, and the excitement was running high.
"But after this," said Ethan, who had the soul of a true sportsman, "we mean to put back all the ordinary trout that are uninjured. We're no fish hogs, you must know. We'll carry the little scales, and the foot rule along, so as to measure what we take."
"That's a sensible arrangement," Phil told them; "but then it's only what I would have expected of you, Ethan."
They were still gathering bait close by the cabin when there broke out a terrible din.
"It must be Lub!" exclaimed Ethan.
"Yes, I saw him wandering off in that direction a bit ago," added X-Ray.
"What can have happened to him?" exclaimed Phil, his mind running to panthers, ferocious bobcats, hungry bears, and even an excited father, wild with searching for his lost child.
"There he comes now!" cried Ethan.
"How funny he acts," X-Ray went on to say.
Indeed, Lub was carrying on as though he had gone suddenly crazy, leaping up into the air, threshing with his arms, and prancing madly to and fro. All the while they could hear him letting out hoarse yells.