The scratched arm was bandaged, and the torn sleeves adjusted as well as could be. Then the two, upon whom Fate had payed such a strange trick, walked back.
"I had some hopes, when you first mentioned a birth mark," said Amy, "that mine might prove to be the one you were looking for, but when you spoke of one near the elbow I knew it could not be. This scar, which does somewhat resemble a 'V,' was not a birth mark, though."
"No, and that threw us all off. But I did not then know of the mistake having been made. I only learned differently the other day, but I kept silent about it. There had been disappointments enough. But when I saw that mark on your shoulder, it came to me in a rush. Amy, you must be my sister!"
"I—I hope I am!"
"But we will wait and make sure."
To this she agreed. Of course they showed their excitement when they joined the others—a double excitement—but the story of the lynx was excuse enough for that, and no embarrassing questions were asked. Amy was hurried back to the cabin to have her arm dressed properly.
CHAPTER XXV
CHRISTMAS JOYS
They were gathered about a big fire on the hearth in the largest cabin—the outdoor girls, the boys, Mr. Ford and others. The crackling blaze leaped up the broad-throated chimney—it snapped with the energy of Fourth of July pyrotechnics, and threw a ruddy glow on happy faces. Betty sang: