CHAPTER XVII
A STRANGE BOY SCOUT
Marjorie and Frieda began to feel very tired and uncomfortable after they had walked several miles in their wet clothing. Had the sun been out to dry them, or had they been familiar with the road, it would not have been so difficult to go on. Their pace became slower and slower, each girl making a desperate effort to keep cheerful for the sake of the other. But soon they began to look eagerly for a house where they could get food and have a place to rest. They knew that they dared not lie down upon the ground, for they would not only be in danger of cold, but also of discovery by their enemy. So they pressed valiantly on.
“Anyway, it’s better than staying forever at that prison!” commented Marjorie. Her feet were particularly wet, and her shoes heavy.
“I should say so! But wasn’t the old man awful? Marj, don’t you hope we never are greedy like that when we get old?”
“You bet! But do you know, I felt sorry for his poor wife. Isn’t it funny, Frieda, to think how differently a man may turn out, after he’s been married a long time? I don’t think Mrs. Higgins loves him now, but probably she did when they were young.”
“I suppose so!” sighed the other girl, much more interested in their own problem than in that of their former captors.
All the while she was keeping a sharp look-out among the trees, hoping to spy a house, or at least a forsaken barn where they might find protection. It was not long afterward that she was rewarded for her diligence.
“Look, Marj!” she cried. “Isn’t that a house—or something?”
And suddenly the girls realized that the night was over, that the first grey light of dawn was upon them. Looking in the direction her companion indicated, Marjorie too distinguished a grey, shadowy outline in the distance. Her heart leaped for joy; there was a chance of a rest at last!