It must have been the custom for the cows in that vicinity to come home at seven A. M., for at that hour the boys awoke, and Harry soon had water boiling for the coffee. Of course, every one’s way of making coffee is by far the best way. The scout8 way is to bring your water to a boil first, then drop your coffee in and stir like the mischief9.
At eight-thirty they had every single thing in their bags and were on their way down the northern slope of the mountain. You would not have known that any one had camped at the spot except for the ashes of the fire and the beaver’s head scratched on a rock.
They followed a winding10, woodland path, scarcely visible in places. “What’s this?” asked Gordon, picking up a small, flat, triangular11 stone which his alert eyes had discovered. It proved to be an Indian arrow-head about an inch and a half long and nearly an inch wide at one end, tapering12 to a blunt point at the other. Harry showed his companion how, wedged into the split end of a stick and bound firmly, it constituted the old-time arrow of the bloody13 Mohawk tribe, whose savage14 warwhoops had no doubt once been heard along this obscure mountain path.
Gordon trudged15 along, kicking the earth in search of more of these murderous souvenirs. Although they searched carefully, they could find no more of them, but Harry came upon something which held a grewsome interest. At the base of an old oak tree where the earth was gray and powdery, he found the head of a tomahawk, eaten with rust6 and so encrusted with earth that he was able to break off the corners of it as if it had been made of plaster.
“I guess some poor chap met his end here,” Harry said soberly. “How would you like to be tied against that old tree and have a pack of savages17 throw these things at you?”
They were, indeed, treading the very ground over which that treacherous19, bloodthirsty tribe had once carried their victims to torture and massacre20. The thought of it had a quieting effect on Gordon, and they pressed their way along silently for a little while. Then he began humming:
“Though you didn’t or you wouldn’t,
Or you hadn’t or you couldn’t—”
“What’s that?” asked Harry.
“It’s the rest of that ‘Scout Song,’ Harry,” said Gordon, looking slyly sideways at his friend.
“You know what I told you, Kid! So help me—”
“Where do we come out?” Gordon interrupted.
“We’re headed for Crown Point Centre.”
Within an hour they came upon an open road and soon reached the village. It was not necessary to inquire for the owner of the little reticule, for on a wooden post outside the post-office was a notice written in a delicate hand on a half sheet of note paper:
LOST
Lady’s small hand-bag on road near Ticonderoga. Finder will confer great favor by kindly21 leaving with postmaster or returning to
Miss Antoinette Crosby,
The word “great” was underlined several times, the word “kindly” was underlined twice, and the word “Miss” once.
“How far is it to Buck Mansion?” Harry asked, sauntering into the post-office.
“Just to see some one. About how far is it?”
“Well, up here folks calls it three mile. City folks sometimes calls it five. One man that was up thar last summer calc’lated ’twas ten—said ’twas ten mile down and twenty mile back. He was a kind of a comic. But I can tell you right now they ain’t got a vacant room in the house.”
“Thank you,” said Harry. “Come on, Kid, we’ll go up there. We don’t need to get up Bulwagga Mountain before night.”
The distance to Buck Mansion was somewhere between one mile and ten, and the way led them through a fragrant26 country with houses at intervals27 along the road. To-day the distance was rather shorter than usual, or else the “scout pace” helped to make it seem so, for within an hour the boys reached a spacious28 white house, standing29 well back from the road. The lawn in front was covered with trees, where a number of hammocks hung. The fence skirting the road was broken in one place by a little summer-house containing a pump, and the half of a cocoanut shell hung near by way of a cup.
The position of this little well-house on the very edge of the public road afforded a tempting30 resting-place for tired wayfarers31. Through the trees the boys could see that a deer’s head with spreading antlers hung over the doorway32 of the house. On the deep porch easy-chairs stood about, and in a frame swing to one side of the lawn a solitary33 figure sat writing. With this exception, not a soul was to be seen, which seemed odd in a spot that afforded such tempting facilities for idleness and repose34.
Just then voices reached the boys through the trees:
“Shall I come to you?”
“No, try to go out.”
“She’s for that wicket.”
“She can’t get through.”
“I could send her down to you.”
“She plays before I do.”
“Well, I’m going to try to hit her anyway.” There was a second’s silence, then a whack36, then “Missed! I told you so!”
“Come on over there,” said Harry.
On a smooth croquet ground an exciting war was going on. So intent was the group of ladies on the game that it was fully16 five minutes before any one spied the two scouts37 who leaned on the picket38 fence watching the play. Then one of them came toward the fence, her croquet mallet39 over her shoulder like a musket40.
“Excuse me for interrupting you,” said Harry, removing his hat, “but I didn’t like to come out on the ground. Is this Buck Mansion?”
“Is there a Miss Crosby here?”
“Indeed, there is. Nettie!” she called. “Here are two young gentlemen to see you.”
The figure in the swing rose quickly, spilling a writing tablet, a bag of candy, a fountain pen, and a magazine. As she straightened out her gown, which did not reach anywhere near the ground, the boys saw her to be a girl of not more than sixteen. They turned toward her.
“Miss Crosby?” Harry asked.
“Ye-es.”
“I think this little hand-bag is yours.”
“Oh, did you find it?”
“Yes, and I ought to have returned it sooner. I’m afraid I found it within an hour of the time you lost it, but better late than never.” He handed her the bag.
“Oh, thank you so very, very much. How did you find it?”
“It isn’t my auto.”
“And I picked up the bag on the stone wall.”
“Oh, thank you so very much for your trouble. The bag isn’t really worth anything, but—” She stopped short and looked at him suspiciously. “How did you know I was in an auto?”
“You just said so—or said as much,” smiled Harry.
“Yes, but you said it first.”
“Well,” said Harry, driven to it, “I happened to be along the road above Ticonderoga that night, and I saw the auto tracks in the moonlight and the ground all rumpled43, and, oh, one thing and another, and then the bag on the wall. So I put it in my pocket to return it if I could find the owner.”
“You knew we broke down?”
“I thought so.”
“Oh, isn’t that just wonderful?”
“Deduction?”
“Yes—putting two and two together and making four.”
“That’s arithmetic,” said she.
“For instance, he thought this bag belonged to an elderly lady,” Gordon continued. “Of course, once in a great while he’s wrong,” he added quickly, rather regretting that he had selected this particular illustration of Harry’s talent for deducing.
“What made him think that? Why, it’s a pale blue—it matches—what made you think that?” she demanded of Harry.
“On account of the smelling salts,” said Gordon.
She opened the bag and closed it hastily. “I think you’re just horrid45!” she said, looking at Harry. But she did not think he was horrid. Quite otherwise.
“You see,” explained Harry, “I had to open it to see if it contained a name or address.”
“Of course,” she said, “but it was just horrid to think I was an old maid! Do you always finds things out about people that way—what is it?”
“Deduction,” Gordon spoke46 up. “All scouts have to learn to decide things that way—it’s dandy fun.”
“I think it’s horrid. I suppose you’re just finding things out about me now. It makes me creepy! But you’re very kind,” she promptly47 added. “Tell me, honest and true, what are you deducing about me now?”
“Well,” said Harry, “I deduce that you’ve been writing a letter and underlining lots of words.”
She opened her mouth in astonishment48. “You’re a perfect ghoul!” said she. “But I haven’t even asked you to sit down yet. Won’t you come over here and rest?” She led the way to the little well-house by the roadside, giving Gordon an opportunity to whisper to Harry:
“Now, you see, Harry—if you only had your uniform on! Did you see how she looked at me? It wasn’t I she cared about, Harry—it was the scout uniform. The scout suit catches them every time. I know more about those things than you do, Harry, because I’ve had more experience. Now you’ve learned a lesson.”
There was no chance for Harry to reply, for the young lady had reached the little shelter and stood waiting for them. She was an extremely pretty young lady, with a great mass of dark hair held together in the back by a huge bow, and she had a very snub nose and a way of puckering49 her brows into a kind of whimsical frown. A number of rebellious50 locks hung about her forehead, shaken loose by the habit she had of giving all her adjectives a racking emphasis, thus causing her head to be in a state of almost continual agitation51. She wore a white sailor blouse, with blue trimming and a blue anchor worked in front. Also a blue braided cord with a tiny round mirror on the end, used in capturing and confining the loose locks after a particularly emphatic52 tirade53. The other extremity54 of Miss Antoinette was on the whole more demure55 and reposeful56, her small feet being encased in bewitching little pumps, which were hardly worth while at all since they were almost completely obscured by enormous silk bows.
It took Gordon about one minute to forget his anxiety to keep secret the object of their wanderings, and presently Miss Antoinette was apprised57 of their intention of ascending58 Bulwagga that very day. She said it was all wonderful.
“And it was so clever,” she went on, “your knowing that I was autoing59. They were friends of mine over in Vermont, and have such a lovely place. Mr. Danforth—he’s just, oh, so generous and such a dear! It was his son, Roger, that I was with that evening, and oh, he’s so dreadfully unlucky!”
“I should call him lucky,” said Harry.
“Oh, no, you wouldn’t. Something happens every time he goes out. Now what are you looking that way for? You’re deducing this very minute—you know you are!”
Harry clasped his hands behind his head, settled far back on the seat, and looked serious and thoughtful. Gordon cast his eyes heavenward as if buried in deep calculation.
“There must be some cause for this bad luck, Kid,” said Harry. “What do you make of it? He understands autos perfectly61, I suppose, Miss Crosby?”
“Oh, yes, he has two.”
“Interested in mechanical matters, then?”
“Oh, very much.”
“Probably has a motor boat, also?”
“Yes, he has.”
“Such traits usually run in families. Has he any brothers and sisters?”
“Yes, the dearest little fellow—and he’s interested in mechanical things, too.”
“Ah,” said Harry, thoughtfully. “He would probably be interested more in some other form of mechanics—aeroplanes, for instance.”
“He is, he is!” cried Miss Antoinette.
“And if he spent too much time reading and studying about them it might affect his health,” suggested Gordon, innocently.
“I catch your idea,” Harry said. “You think the older brother might be preoccupied62 by concern for the little fellow’s health, and so not give his full attention to his car?”
“That might account for his having so many accidents,” said Gordon. “He ought to take his chauffeur63 along.”
“Possibly he leaves him at home to help the little fellow with his aeroplanes,” said Harry, after a moment’s thoughtful pause. “Living in the city, as I suppose they do, the little chap would naturally take advantage of being up here to try out his models. And they might be afraid of his meeting with some accident—being so near the lake, too. Is his health at all delicate, Miss Crosby?” he added.
“Yes, indeed,” cried the girl, who had been staring from one to the other in speechless amazement64.
“They all worry about him so much. And he does stay indoors too much, reading and experimenting with his aeroplanes. Roger is always speaking of it, and I believe he does leave his chauffeur at home for that very reason.”
“Then, too,” said Gordon, placing the tips of his fingers together, “the chauffeur would be needed for the other auto—taking parties about. The house is probably full of guests most of the time.”
“Pre-cisely,” said Harry. “And the father probably doesn’t understand much about motors,” he added, as an after-thought. “He naturally wouldn’t. May I ask if the chauffeur is Irish, Miss Crosby?”
“His name is Pat,” she answered, as if in a trance.
“Probably cheerful and good-natured,” mused65 Harry. “So you think they do worry about the younger brother’s health?”
“Oh, I know they all do, for his lungs aren’t strong.”
“I should say they’ll probably move to the country before very long,” said Gordon, with great deliberation. “The little boy would be better there. Very likely they’ll build in some good, healthful suburb, most likely somewhere in New Jersey66, and give up their city residence altogether.”
“Not necessarily,” said Harry.
But Miss Antoinette had jumped to her feet. “I never in my life!” she exclaimed. “It’s perfectly miraculous67! That’s exactly what they are going to do! Mr. Danforth is building a beautiful place up on a hill in New Jersey, and they’re going there to live this Fall!”
“‘I NEVER IN MY LIFE!’ SHE EXCLAIMED.”
“’Twas merely a guess of my friend,” said Harry, in a deprecating way, as he rose to pump some water. But the repressed twitching68 around Gordon’s rebellious lips made the girl suspicious.
“You’re just fooling me!” she cried. “You must know them!”
In a few minutes it was all out. Gordon, entirely69 heedless of Harry’s scowls70 and embarrassment71, gave her a complete account of the rescue of little Penfield and their subsequent visit at the Danforth place. She was entirely of Gordon’s way of thinking as to the acceptance of the boat, and assured Harry that there was really no hope of escaping Mr. Danforth. “You might just as well have taken it,” she said, “and then you wouldn’t have to be worrying about what he might do next.”
“You don’t think he’ll really get up a conspiracy72?” Harry laughed.
“Now you see,” sneered74 Gordon, with great satisfaction. “What did I tell you? He never takes my advice,” he added, confidentially75, to the girl. “Now you take to-day, if he only had—”
“Is that a tennis court over there?” Harry interrupted.
“Yes—do you like tennis? I hate croquet—they all play croquet here, and there’s not a boy in the place. Oh, I wish I were you, you can have such fun, going wherever you want to, and just camping out.”
They walked over through the croquet field and were presented to twelve ladies and two lonely gentlemen, all of whom showed a lively interest in them, as people usually do in boy scouts. Then to the tennis court, where Miss Crosby and Harry played a lively game, while Gordon sat on a rustic76 seat and gorged77 himself with apples. Between games she made a hasty trip to her mother on the croquet ground, and presently that lady strolled over and insisted that the boys remain to dinner.
Gordon’s eye was on Harry, and he did not dare decline. They found the summer guests a cordial set, who were only too glad to vary the daily routine of alternate croquet and bridge by entertaining them and plying78 them with questions.
Early in the afternoon they set forth60 for Bulwagga Mountain. Miss Crosby had acquired a lively interest in their enterprise and had made them promise, at parting, that they would call again if they could possibly manage it, “and show me some more deducing” she had said, with an injured look.
And she added that she would “certainly stay up until midnight, and try to discover smoke, and if she did discover it, she would know that they had seen it too, and would be with their friends in the morning, and wouldn’t that be just dear?”
Harry said it certainly would, but that it was too good to be true.
“Now, Harry,” said Gordon, as they started into a clump79 of woods in the direction of the great Bulwagga Mountain, “the trouble with you is that you don’t recount your adventures. That’s the only trouble with you, Harry. You should have recounted your adventures. There was your chance to recount them to a maiden80.”
“A what?”
“A maiden—it’s the same as a girl. And you’ve got the very best kind of an adventure, too—rescuing some one from drowning—it’s always a winner. Why, Harry, a maiden always marries a fellow that saves her from drowning—always! It’s all right to have adventures, but if you want to be a real hero, you’ve got to recount them. They always do in books. ‘After he recounted his adventures—’”
“Well, that shows I’m not much of a hero, Kid, doesn’t it?”
“I know, but you might be. You’ve got the adventures all right, only you don’t recount them. I’m not blaming you, Harry, because you don’t know much about girls. Now there was a fellow in a play, named Othello, and oh, cracky, Harry, but he was a peacherino! He used to recount his adventures all the time—to a maiden. And he made a great hit, too. And you could do the same thing, Harry. There’s no kind of an adventure like a rescue from drowning. Of course, I don’t say anything against pulling a maiden off the railroad track, especially if she’s bound with cruel thongs81, because that’s a winner, too. But a rescue from drowning catches them every time. Why, don’t you suppose that Alger, and Henry, and men like that, know? You bet they do! ’Most all their heroes save people from drowning, and that’s how they win her hand. If I had an adventure like that, I’d recount it to maidens82, you can bet! But I’m not saying you didn’t make a hit, Harry.”
“Oh, stop that, Kid.”
“No, I won’t stop it, either. If you’d only had on your khaki suit, like me, it would have been great. But even as it was, you made a hit, Harry.”
“You’re dreaming, Kid.”
“All right; but you’re going there again, I can tell you that.”
“Not.”
“I bet you do.”
“I bet I don’t.”
“She invited you.”
“She invited both of us.”
“Yes, but she meant you.”
“What the dickens gives you that idea?”
“I deduced it, Harry.”
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1
propensity
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| n.倾向；习性 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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locust
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| n.蝗虫；洋槐，刺槐 | |
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6
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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18
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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19
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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wayfarers
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| n.旅人，（尤指）徒步旅行者( wayfarer的名词复数 ) | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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whack
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| v.敲击，重打，瓜分；n.重击，重打，尝试，一份 | |
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scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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mallet
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| n.槌棒 | |
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musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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43
rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deduction
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| n.减除，扣除，减除额；推论，推理，演绎 | |
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45
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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46
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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47
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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49
puckering
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的现在分词 )；小褶纹；小褶皱 | |
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50
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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51
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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52
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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tirade
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| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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reposeful
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| adj.平稳的，沉着的 | |
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apprised
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| v.告知，通知( apprise的过去式和过去分词 )；评价 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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autoing
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| vi.乘汽车（auto的现在分词形式） | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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scowls
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| 不悦之色，怒容( scowl的名词复数 ) | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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gorged
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 )；作呕 | |
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plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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