“I guess not,” agreed Lalla with her old love for a joke. “Go ahead and have your fun; but what if they go back the other way?”
“You mustn’t let ’em. Think up some scheme; you can do it.” Both heads disappeared as Nancy Jane’s voice was borne to them from below.
Lalla picked a few violets and walked on carelessly, looking up at the mountains on the opposite side. “Hurry up or we’ll never get there!” she called back, waving her flowers; “there’ll be heaps of these at Slate Lick.”
The gorge widened. A trickling, shallow stream crept through the bed. The foothills seemed suddenly to have become mountains and surrounded them, making a basin-like valley. On the opposite side, sheltered by walnuts, stood a few deserted houses and a building which seemed halfway between a store and a peanut stand.
“There’s quite a colony here in summer,” said Miss Howard, when at last they stood in front of the spring house and fitted the long key into the padlock. “The sulphur water calls them, and the view. Isn’t it beautiful! I want to get the Knob painted in while the haze is over it. You young folks run along and do your climbing; I’ll whistle for you when it’s time to go back.”
“If Talitha and Gincy were only here!” sighed Kizzie after the first long climb. Together they stood panting for breath and watched the scene below.
“Where’s Lalla? She beats everything for disappearing right before one’s eyes,” Nancy Jane frowned.
“Couldn’t lose her though, that’s the beauty of it,” remarked Urilla as they looked around behind the trees and boulders. Below, Miss Howard sat intent upon her canvas. A tinkling cowbell was the only sound which greeted their ears. “I’m for going on. It’s one of Lalla’s tricks; she’s a good deal nearer than we think—probably laughing at us this minute.”
But Lalla, when she dropped behind the rest, had taken a trail leading off to the left. She was sure that it came back to the main trail again, and it would give her a splendid opportunity to pop out and surprise them. She soon found that it led around an immense boulder, that it was steep, and grew steeper. As she paused quite breathless, the sound of men’s voices came from behind the rock.
A clump of small evergreens made a convenient hiding-place; behind them Lalla listened. She was not in the least alarmed, only curious. The voices grew louder, one of them seemed to be chanting or reciting something; it was hard to tell which. Lalla stole out a little farther and crouched close to the rock, listening breathlessly.