“Don’t you wish we had a watch?” she said; “or even our maps?”
“Anyhow, we know it’s Monday morning,” said Frieda. “And we ought to get to Silvertown today—tonight, rather. For walking is as fast as canoeing.”
By this time they were close enough to the structure to see that it was a rather tumble-down farm-house. The boards of the porch were rotting, and the woodwork everywhere needed paint. Two or three chairs on the porch made the girls certain of the fact that the place was inhabited. The windows were all wide open, but there was not a sign of a screen. Obviously, this was not so prosperous a farm as the one they had just left. But Marjorie and Frieda did not mind; they were so weary that a great sense of thankfulness at the promise of a rest was the only feeling that possessed them.
“How much of the truth shall we tell?” asked Frieda, as they approached the porch.
“Only that we are Girl Scouts, who have lost our party, and had our canoe stolen,” answered Marjorie, promptly. “And that we have no money, but when we get to Silvertown, we’ll send it to pay for a bed and a meal!”
With no attempt at quiet, they walked boldly up the porch steps, and knocked loudly. They had to wait only a minute or two, until a middle-aged woman in a soiled wrapper came to the door. Her hair was already arranged in a knot; it was evident that she had been occupied in the process of dressing when she heard the knock. Marjorie told the story as briefly as possible, leaving out the part about their captivity.
“Yes, sure!” said the woman, in answer to their request. “I’ll fix you up a cup of coffee, and you can go right to bed. Then I’ll have a nice breakfast when you wake up.”
She proceeded to fix up her own bed for the girls and loaned them night dresses so that she might hang their wet clothing out to dry. The girls drank their coffee gratefully, and slipped into the borrowed garments, too tired even to laugh at the absurd appearance they made. They were asleep in no time.
It was noon when they finally awakened. Frieda jumped out, surprised at the brightness of the sun.
“Oh, Marj! We’ll have to hurry!” she cried; “or else we won’t get there tonight. Maybe the woman, whatever her name is, can tell us how many miles away Silvertown is.”