The Motor Maids at Sunrise Camp Part 19

"With the greatest pleasure," answered Richard, "if you think old Dobbin can climb the hill."

"Of course he can," replied Billie.

"But, Richard, do you think we dare?" asked Maggie in a low voice.

Richard's mouth turned up at the corners and his eyes gave a humorous blink.

"We dare anything," he said. "Pray excuse this little aside, Miss Billie. It's only that we are obliged to consider certain complications that arise to vex us at times. I think we can easily arrange to go to Camp Sunrise."

Billie was more certain than ever that money was the complication. But surely that was an inexpensive way of spending one's vacation, provided one owned the van and the horse.

"How much longer does your vacation last, Mr. Hook?" she asked.

"It depends. My boss is a very notionate old party. He might let me go wandering on like this for several weeks longer or he might suddenly decide to send for me, and I should have to go hiking back in the midst of my holiday."

Maggie laughed, and Billie wondered what kind of work this unusual young man did that sent out sudden calls in the very middle of hard-earned vacations.

However, it was arranged that the caravanners should meander back toward Sunrise Camp and in the course of time stop there for a visit.

"They are delightful young people," Miss Campbell said. "I don't know who they are, I'm sure, nor what the young man does, but I find them quite the most charming young people with the exception of my own that I ever met."

"It's rather strange about his work," remarked Dr. Hume. "I don't know what he does now, but he wishes above all things to be a farmer, he informed me. He's always looking for farms as he journeys along the road. That's one of the reasons why he got the van, in order to see the country and decide where he'd like best to locate."

They were not so merry on the journey back as they had been on the trip of the morning before. For one reason those who had slept in open camp had not had off their clothes for twenty-four hours, and all of them felt the crying need of baths after the two dusty journeys. But there was another reason besides these physical ones. They were beginning to feel conscience-stricken about Alberdina. How had she taken their long, unexplained absence? Would she still be singing "Ach, mein lieber Augustine!" when they returned, and would there be a long clothes line bowed under the weight of clean white linen bleaching in the sun ready to be ironed? So restless did they grow under these speculations, that they did not pause for lunch and, urging the "Comet" to the limit of his speed, they reached home a little before noon. Alberdina was there.

Thank heavens for that. They could see her plainly as they turned the curve in the road. But her appearance was not promising. Perched on her head was that absurd comedy hat. She was sitting down, quite low, on the iron-bound trunk, in fact, leaning on her large cotton umbrella, as one prepared to depart on a journey.

If you have ever lived in a remote spot with an uncertain maid, you will recall how apologetic you were to her for your own shortcomings.

"Oh, dear, what shall I say to her?" exclaimed Miss Campbell. "She looks as if she were ready to go this minute."

"Why can't we tell her the truth? We simply couldn't help it," said Billie. "She ought not to be angry over something we couldn't control."

"You don't know them, but I'll just brazen it out. I know we're entirely dependent on the creature for the comforts of life, but I won't let her bully me. Well, Alberdina," she called, as the car drew up at the camp door, "have you been lonesome?"

"Lonesome?" repeated Alberdina, not moving from her ridiculous trunk.

"I no time haf had for lonesomes. Many peoples to dis house come--crazy peoples--men and vimmen, hein? They haf my moneys took already yesterday! Ach, Gott! They haf me tied wid ropes. They have nogged and nogged in the night times. Dos vimmens, I hear the boice already yet. I no lig dees place. I to my home go bag to-day. Dey have robbed dis house. Dey haf made to turn red dos vite clothes."

In dead silence they descended from the motor car and filed into the house to investigate Alberdina's wild, incoherent story.

There were certainly signs of an invasion in the locker rooms, everything tipsy turvy on the floor. Alberdina showed them the ropes that had bound her. With rivers of tears she mentioned her loss of ten dollars.

"And the red clothes?" asked Billie doubtfully.

This had been reserved to the last by the wily-innocent Swiss girl.

With cries of sorrow they beheld their underclothing and blouses all tinged a deep pink.

Suddenly Miss Campbell marched up and stood in front of the girl with a very cold steely look in her cerulean eyes.

"Answer me this instant," she said, "and speak the truth. You boiled those clothes with a red silk handkerchief?"

Alberdina broke down and wept copiously.

"I knew not about dos red," she exclaimed.

"But when you saw the clothes were turning red, why didn't you take them off the fire?" asked Billie.

"I did nod see."

"Not see? And why not, pray?" demanded Miss Campbell.

"I was asleeb and when I wog, I was wit rope tied."

"Who cut the rope?" asked Dr. Hume, beginning to doubt the whole story.

"A gentlemans who mag to play music on the zither."

"Phoebe's father!" exclaimed the girls.

They glanced at each other with a wild surmise.

"It couldn't have been----"

"No, no, I'm sure he never would----"

"Hush," said Ben, "here comes Phoebe."

The mountain girl, looking pale and distraught, her hair flying, her face and hands scratched from contact with brambles, rushed into their midst.

"My father," she cried. "He has been lost all night. I have looked and looked and I cannot find him. Oh, if he should be in the marshes----"

She fell on her knees at Billie's feet and broke into sobbing.

CHAPTER XIII.

BILLIE AND THE DOCTOR.

Several things had to be done before any steps could be taken to find Phoebe's father. First Alberdina must be roundly scolded for her carelessness about the clothes and then placated with a ten dollar bill to compensate her for her loss. There must be lunch prepared for hungry travelers, and Phoebe, herself, must be given food and made to rest. In the meantime they questioned her concerning her father's movements. He had left the cabin with his zither the morning of the day before and had not been seen since, except when he had appeared at the camp and cut Alberdina's bonds.

"Has he ever stayed away before at night?" asked Dr. Hume.

"No, never. When he is not weaving baskets or carving, he is very restless and often is away for hours, but he always comes back before bed time. He never forgets me. That is why I am so uneasy now," she went on, clasping and unclasping her hands in the agony of her uncertainty.

"Phoebe," said the doctor, "what is it that gives you strength to do your day's work, even if it means walking across a mountain in the hot sun carrying a heavy basket?"

Phoebe lowered her eyes and a flush spread over her sunburned face.