“And to think you got your watch and money and everything!” said Grace delightedly, as Frank fondly caressed his recovered bank roll and Will slipped his beloved watch back into his pocket.
“It was a lucky chance that led us to take the wrong path all right,” sighed Amy, who was secretly worrying for fear Will had received some broken bones or internal injuries in the fray.
“The only thing that makes me mad,” said Allen, as they turned to retrace their steps, “is that we didn’t catch the other two scoundrels, Roy. It seemed a shame to let them get off scot free.”
“Tough luck,” agreed Roy, adding philosophically: “Though I guess they’ve had scare enough to keep them away from this neighborhood for some time to come.”
Once again they reached the intersection of the two paths, and this time chose the one that led to the cabin of the Old Maid of the Mountains. Instinctively they increased their pace, eagerly impatient to see the old lady.
When they reached the little house on the hill there was no sign of its owner anywhere. They had half expected to find her seated outside the door, enjoying the sunshine, as was her custom, and the deserted aspect of her front yard alarmed them.
They hurried forward anxiously. Then, just before they reached the cabin, all the boys except Allen dropped behind on the plea that a crowd of strangers might startle the old lady.
“Of course it’s necessary for Allen to be among those present, but as for us, we prefer to wait outside,” stated Roy.
At Betty’s soft knock a faint voice called to them to enter. They found the Old Maid of the Mountains pottering about some household tasks and her rare old face lighted up at sight of the girls.
Then she caught sight of Allen and her hand flew to her throat in that gesture of alarm the girls had come to know so well.