Bob touched the bolt cautiously, half hoping that some thrilling adventure might ensue. It would at least take their minds temporarily away from the worry which they felt for the lost girls.
With a sudden, sharp, jerk, he pulled the door wide open, casting a swift glance at the visitors before he followed the precaution of stepping behind it. To his amazement, however, no rough, masculine characters confronted him; but two very forlorn wet girls. Daisy and Marjorie were standing at the door, holding on to their horses’ bridles!
The girls’ expressions changed quickly from apprehension and hostility to joy and thankfulness. Dropping the horses’ bridles, they both rushed into the cabin, almost embracing Kirk and Bob at the pleasure of seeing their familiar faces.
“But how did you ever get here?” demanded Marjorie, as soon as she could get her breath. “Are we anywhere near camp?”
“No—miles away!” laughed Kirk. “But how did you girls ever get here? We’ve been out hunting for you!”
“I think I had better go out and put your horses with ours,” interrupted Bob. “It’s a sort of shelter, behind the cabin. I’ll be right back.”
While he was gone, the girls took off their hats, whose brims were still dripping pools of water, and made an attempt to get dry. Kirk went to his bag and drew out some bread for them, which he told them to eat at once. When Bob returned, their first pangs of hunger were somewhat satisfied, and Marjorie started to explain their plight as well as she could.
“We didn’t even know we were off the trail,” she said, “until we suddenly began to get hungry. I looked at my watch, and was surprised to find that it was almost noon. So we turned about, and went back until we found another trail.
“We kept on that for a long time without success, and then we knew we were hopelessly lost. We hadn’t an idea what to do.
“And just as we were trying to map out some sort of scheme, it began to rain. Of course you know how hard it rained, too, and we naturally looked for shelter.