The Outdoor Girls of Deepdale Part 20

"No, not at all," she a.s.sured him, with a smile that was brave and winning. "I was only frightened, that's all."

"I'm glad of that. I'll have t' tie that dog up, I guess," and he threw a little clod of earth at the now cringing animal, not hitting him, however.

"Oh, don't hurt him," pleaded Betty.

"Hurt him! He wouldn't do that, miss!" exclaimed the hired man, who now had to defend himself from the over-zealous affections of the dog. "He's too fond of him. Nero isn't a bad sort generally, only some of the boys worried him."

The girls, with the farmer and his man in the lead, walked toward the house, the woman hurrying on ahead to set more places at the table.

"I'm afraid we're troubling you too much," protested Betty.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," the farmer a.s.sured her. "And I owe you something on account of my dog's actions."

"But really, ought we to stay?" asked Grace. "It's getting dark, Betty, and your aunt--"

"Say, young ladies!" exclaimed the farmer, "I'll fix that all right. As soon as you have a bite to eat I'll hitch up and drive you over to Rockford, to Bill Palmer's."

"Oh!" began Betty, "we couldn't think--"

She stopped, for she did not know what to say. Truly, it was quite a dilemma in which they found themselves, and they must stay somewhere that night. To remain at a strange farm house was out of the question. Perhaps this was the simplest way after all.

"It won't be any trouble at all," the farmer a.s.sured her. "I've got a fast team and a three-seated carriage. I'll have you over there in no time."

"Then perhaps we'd better not stop for supper," said Mollie. "Your aunt might be worrying, Betty, and--"

"We'll telephone her!" exclaimed the farmer. "I've got a 'phone--lots of us have around here--and I can let her know all about it. Or you can talk to her yourself," he added.

So it was arranged; and soon Betty was talking to her anxious relative over the wire. Then, after a bountiful supper, which the girls very much enjoyed, the farmer hitched up his fine team, and soon they were on their way to Mrs. Palmer's. The drive was not a long one.

"My!" exclaimed Mollie, as they bowled along over the smooth road, under a young moon that silvered the earth, "this is better than walking!"

"I should say so," agreed Grace, whose shoes hurt her more than she cared to admit.

"You are both traitors to the Club!" exclaimed Betty. "The idea of preferring riding to walking!"

"Oh, it's only once in a while," added Mollie. "Really, pet, we've had a perfectly grand time."

"Even with the dog," added Amy, who was now herself again. "I was silly to run."

"I don't blame you," said the farmer, "and yet if you hadn't, maybe Nero wouldn't have chased you. It's a good thing not to run from a dog. If you stand, it let's him see you're not afraid."

"Put that down in your books, girls," directed Betty. "Never run from a dog. That advice may come in useful on our trip."

Half an hour later they were at Mrs. Palmer's house, and received a hearty welcome, the telephone message having done much to relieve the lady's anxiety.

CHAPTER XIII

THE MISSING LUNCH

"Oh, but these shoes are so comfortable!"

"I'm glad of that, Grace."

"Though I didn't really delay you much; did I?"

"No, I wasn't complaining," and Betty put a caressing hand on the arm of her companion.

"We'll be able to make up for lost time now," said Mollie, as she shifted her little valise from one hand to the other. "Your aunt was certainly generous in the matter of lunch, Betty," she went on.

"Yes, she said this country air would give us good appet.i.tes."

"I'm sure I don't need any," spoke Amy. "I've been hungry ever since we started."

The four girls were again on the broad highway that was splashed and spotted with the streaks of the early sun as it slanted through the elms and maples along the road. They had spent two nights at the home of Betty's aunt, that lady having insisted on a little longer visit than was at first planned. She made the girls royally welcome, as did her husband. Grace's shoes had been sent to her at Rockford, having been telephoned for.

"But if we stay another day and night here," said Betty, "not that we're not glad to, Aunt Sallie--why we can't keep up to our schedule in walking, and we must cover so many miles each day."

"You see it's in the const.i.tution of our club," added Grace. "We can't violate that."

"Oh, come now!" insisted Mr. Palmer. "You can stay longer just as well as not. As for walking, why we've got some of the finest walks going, right around Rockford here. You'd better stay. We don't very often see you, Betty, and your aunt isn't half talked out yet," and he solemnly winked over the head of his wife.

"The idea!" she exclaimed. "As if I'd talked half as much as you had."

And so the girls had remained. They had greatly enjoyed the visit. In antic.i.p.ation of their coming Mrs. Palmer had prepared "enough for a regiment of hungry boys," to quote her husband, and had invited a number of the neighboring young people to meet the members of the Camping and Tramping Club.

The dainty rooms of the country house, with their quaint, old-fashioned, striped wall paper, the big four-poster beds, a relic of a by-gone generation, the mahogany dressers with their shining mirrors, and the delightful home-like atmosphere--all had combined to make the stay of the girls most pleasant.

The day after their arrival by carriage they had gone on a long walk, visiting a picturesque little glen not far from the village, being accompanied by a number of girls whose acquaintance Betty and her chums had made. Some of them Betty had met before.

The idea of a walking club was enthusiastically received by the country girls, and they at once resolved to form one like the organization started by Betty Nelson. In fact they named it after her, in spite of her protests.

In the afternoon the girls went for a drive in Mr. Palmer's big carriage, visiting places of local interest. And in the evening there was an old-fashioned "surprise party"--a real surprise too, by the way, for Betty and her chums had never dreamed of it. It was a most delightful time.

Mr. and Mrs. Palmer had tried to persuade their niece and her chums to stay still longer, but they were firm in their determination to cover the two hundred miles--more or less--in the specified time.

So they had started off, and the s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation with which I begun this chapter might have been heard as the four walked along the pleasant country road.

"We've had very good luck so far," said Mollie, as she skipped a few steps in advance on the greensward. "Not a bit of rain."

"Don't boast!" cautioned Betty. "It will be perfectly terrible if it rains. We simply can't walk if it does."

"I don't see why not," spoke Mollie, trying to catch Amy in a waltz hug and whirl her about.

"My, isn't she getting giddy!" mocked Grace.