During one of her talkative spells the girls learned that the real name of the Old Maid of the Mountains was Isabella Weeks and that the little cabin she now occupied once belonged to her grandfather.
“It’s about the only thing I have left,” the old lady had said in a burst of confidence and had immediately relapsed into one of her long silences.
On their way back to camp that night the girls were unusually thoughtful. Through Betty’s head kept running persistently the refrain of the little old lady’s muttered words:
“The injustice of it, oh, the injustice of it!”
CHAPTER XXII
A CLEW
As the Outdoor Girls were nearing camp Mollie finally broke the long silence that had fallen upon them.
“Something’s got to be done for that old lady,” she said, explosively. “She oughtn’t to live up there all alone. Didn’t you notice to-day how queer she acted? It’s enough to drive anybody crazy, living alone like that.”
“I think she has probably had a great deal of trouble——” began Amy.
“Humph,” grunted Mollie. “She has plenty of that now.”