CHAPTER XXVI
DOROTHY'S SUCCESS
The boys from Camp Capital, together with their neighbors, held aconsultation there in the woods. They had heard from the sanitariumattendants that, not only had a young girl escaped, and not yet found,but that some weeks previously, a man, "stage-struck," as they put it,had gotten away, and it was to his help that the departure of the girlwas attributed. Dorothy, from her hiding place, heard all this, andknew only too well that the man referred to was none other thanMorrison.
"And this fellow has been caught?" asked Ned, anxiously.
"Yes," replied one of the men. "We took him in again yesterdayafternoon."
"Is he too demented to tell anything? That is, to know who was withhim while he was free?" went on Ned.
"Oh, he just talks in a rambling way about a girl who, he declares,should have a fortune that his uncle has hidden away. He has reallynever been entirely off, but one of the kind who rides a hobby, youknow," said the man. "His hobby is theatricals."
"But has he an uncle? Might he have taken a girl to that man?"persisted Ned. "You see, we have reason to believe that the girl weare in search of, met this man. Now, if he has been captured, what hasbecome of her?"
"That's one of the questions we may have to answer before our Board ofInquiry," replied the man with no small concern. "It is easy enoughfor those lunatics to get away, but to get them back is harder. Andthe girl's mother is a widow, with all kinds of money."
Dorothy could scarcely keep still. Only the pressure of Cologne'shands kept her from telling what she knew of the story. Then the fearof again being mistaken for Mary Harriwell--that was too great a risk.
"Is there absolutely no clew?" asked Nat, almost in despair, for hewas always fond of Tavia.
"Yes. The station agent at Lexington tells a story about a girl comingto him and staying in the station alone all night. But he declares shehad dark hair and brown eyes, while Mary Harriwell is a blonde. Othersabout the station agree with him. That girl left for the Junctionnight before last, and was not picked up dead or alive since. Theofficials of the road have had searched every inch of the track. Seemsthat old Sam Dixon is very worried about this because he let the girlgo. He did not know just who she was, but to hear him talk you wouldthink it was his daughter. Well, we must go beating farther along.This searching, and with night coming, is no fun. We wish you luck,and if you find your girl let us know."
So the parties separated and then Dorothy was free to leave her hidingplace. She longed to tell her friends the strange story, but she knewthat the finding of Tavia was the one and only thing to be thought ofjust then.
"Are you sure that this is the direction in which the boys went?"asked Nat, with something like a sigh.
Dorothy looked over the rough woodland. "No," she said, "there was aswamp, for I distinctly remember that they picked their way throughtall grass, and about here the grass is actually dried up."
"Then to find a swamp," said Nat. "Seems to me there are more kinds oftrees in Maine, and more kinds of things to catch at a fellow's----"
A cry from Ned stopped the speech.
"Oh!" he yelled. "Something has my foot! Come quick!"
"Oh, maybe it is a rattlesnake!" gasped Cologne.
"Or maybe a big rat," added Jack, as they all ran back to where Nedlay in the grass, trying to free himself from whatever it was thatheld him.
"It hurts!" he said. "Get it off!"
Jack was the first to get down and look at the struggling boy.
"A trap!" he announced. "Easy! Don't pull it, Ned."
"More things than trees and lost girls in the Maine woods," exclaimedNat. "Gee whiz! I wonder what we'll strike next."
"Just take a strike at this trap," begged Ned. "Seems to me ittakes--oh! be careful, Jack, that hurts!"
"Let me!" suggested Dorothy. "I can open it, without hurting him," andshe stooped over her cousin. "Oh, you poor boy! It has cut rightthrough your shoe. Now, Jack, just hold the end of the chain so thatit cannot slip back," she ordered. "Cologne, dear, can you unlace thisshoe?"
"Oh, of course," growled Nat, "it takes a girl!"
"Any objections?" asked Ned, getting back to his good humor. "Now ifthis were Nat it would take a whole boarding school of girls."
Dorothy and Cologne very gently helped the boys get the steel trapfree from the shoe. It took some time to do it without pressing thejaws still farther in through the leather, but they succeeded.
"Now, you must go back in the boat," decided Dorothy. "We cannot runthe risk of having your foot poisoned."
"Never!" declared Ned. "I have often had worse than this, and havegone on after the game."
He got to his feet, but limped as he walked The foot had beenlacerated.
"What foolish hunters ever put that trap there?" he asked.
"I would not be surprised if it were the man who shot the deer,"replied Dorothy, as if the others knew of that happening.
"Shot a deer! At this season!" exclaimed Jack.
"Oh, I think he was an Indian. I saw him as I came along in thecanoe," replied Dorothy. "I thought at the time it was against thelaw. Can you walk, Ned? I do wish you would go back."
"Seems to me we ought to separate," interposed Ralph. "We can nevermake any headway by searching all together."
"Well, I will not leave Dorothy," declared Cologne, stoutly. "I lefther once----"
"No, I left _you_ once," corrected Dorothy, in her own way of alwaystaking the blame. "I think, however, Ralph is right. Suppose the boyskeep along the water, and Cologne and I go farther in."
"Then I go with you," said Ralph gallantly. "It is not altogether safein the deep woods. There might be lunatics----"
"Or muskrat traps," groaned Ned, who walked with difficulty.
At this they separated.
For some time they heard nothing more than their own voices callingback and forth.
"Isn't it awful?" sighed Cologne. "Dorothy, I think it is utterlyuseless. I am afraid she is--dead."
"I know she is not," declared Dorothy, "and I am not going to give upuntil I have searched every inch of this wood. Now I am going toshout!"
"Tavia! Tavia!" she yelled, and her clear voice struck an echoagainst the hills. "Tavia! Tavia!" she called again.
"Hark!" said Cologne. "Didn't I hear----"
"I heard something!" declared Dorothy, and the sound came from back ofthe hill. "Boys! Boys!" she shouted, but they were now too far away toanswer promptly. "Don't try to follow, Cologne. I feel that I can runlike the wind. I heard Tavia's voice, and I heard it--right--over--there!"
As she flew through the woods Cologne, in distress, tried to summonthe boys. She feared Dorothy would fall again, over some rock orcliff. But there was no use trying to stop her. She had heard Tavia'svoice, and that was enough.