Produced by Justin Philips
NAN SHERWOOD AT PINE CAMP
or, The Old Lumberman's Secret
By Annie Roe Carr
Chapter I. THE YELLOW POSTER
"Oh, look there, Nan!" cried Bess Harley suddenly, as they turnedinto High Street from the avenue on which Tillbury's high school wassituated.
"Look where?" queried Nan Sherwood promptly. "Up in the air, down on theground or all around?" and she carried out her speech in action,finally spinning about on one foot in a manner to shock the more staidElizabeth.
"Oh, Nan!"
"Oh, Bess!" mocked her friend.
She was a rosy-cheeked, brown-eyed girl, with fly-away hair, a bluetam-o'-shanter set jauntily upon it, and a strong, plump body that shehad great difficulty in keeping still enough in school to satisfy herteachers.
"Do behave, Nan," begged Bess. "We're on the public street."
"How awful!" proclaimed Nan Sherwood, making big eyes at her chum. "Whyfolks know we're only high-school girls, so, of course, we're crazy!Otherwise we wouldn't BE high-school girls."
"Nonsense!" cried Bess, interrupting. "Do be reasonable, Nan. And lookyonder! What do you suppose that crowd is at the big gate of the AtwaterMills?"
Nan Sherwood's merry face instantly clouded. She was not at all athoughtless girl, although she was of a sanguine, cheerful temperament.
The startled change in her face amazed Bess.
"Oh dear!" the latter cried. "What is it? Surely, there's nobody hurt inthe mills? Your father-----"
"I'm afraid, Bess dear, that it means there are a great many hurt in themills."
"Oh, Nan! How horridly you talk," cried Bess. "That is impossible."
"Not hurt in the machinery, not mangled by the looms," Nan went on tosay, gravely. "But dreadfully hurt nevertheless, Bess. Father has beenexpecting it, I believe. Let's go and read the poster."
"Why it is a poster, isn't it?" cried Bess. "What does it say?"
The two school girls, both neatly dressed and carrying their bags oftext books, pushed into the group before the yellow quarter-sheet posterpasted on the fence.
The appearance of Nan and Bess was distinctly to their advantage whencompared with that of the women and girls who made up the most of thecrowd interested in the black print upon the poster.
The majority of these whispering, staring people were foreigners. Allbore marks of hard work and poverty. The hands of even the girls in thegroup were red and cracked. It was sharp winter weather, but none woregloves.
If they wore a head-covering at all, it was a shawl gathered at thethroat by the clutch of frost-bitten fingers. There was snow on theground; but few wore overshoes.
They crowded away from the two well-dressed high-school girls, lookingat them askance. Bess Harley scarcely noticed the mill-hands' wives anddaughters. She came of a family who considered these poor people littlebetter than cattle. Nan Sherwood was so much interested in the posterthat she saw nothing else. It read:
NOTICE: Two weeks from date all departments of these mills will beclosed until further notice. Final payment of wages due will be madeon January 15th. Over-supply of our market and the prohibitive priceof cotton make this action a necessity. ATWATER MILLS COMPANY. December28th.
"Why, dear me!" murmured Bess. "I thought it might really be somethingterrible. Come on, Nan. It's only a notice of a vacation. I guess mostof them will be glad to rest awhile."
"And who is going to pay for their bread and butter while the poorcreatures are resting?" asked Nan seriously, as the two girls moved awayfrom the group before the yellow poster.
"Dear me, Nan!" her chum cried. "You do always think of the mostdreadful things. It troubles me to know anything about poverty andpoor people. I can't help them, and I don't want to know anything aboutthem."
"If I didn't know that you are better than your talk, Bess," said Nan,still gravely, "I'd think you a most callous person. You just don'tunderstand. These poor people have been fearing this shut-down formonths. And all the time they have been expecting it they have beenhelpless to avert it and unable to prepare for it."
"They might have saved some of their wages, I suppose," said Bess. "Iheard father say the other night how much money the mills paid out in ayear to the hands, some perfectly en_or_mous sum."
"But just think how many people that has to be divided among," urgedNan. "Lots of the men earn only eight or nine dollars a week, and havefamilies to support."
"Well, of course, they don't have to be supported as we are," objectedthe easy-minded Bess. "Anyway my father says frugality should be taughtto the poor just the same as reading and writing. They ought to learnhow to save."
"When you earn only just enough to supply your needs, and no more, howcan you divide your income so as to hoard up any part of it?"
"Dear me! Don't ask questions in political economy out of school, Nan!"cried Bess, forgetting that she had started the discussion herself. "Ijust HATE that study, and wish we didn't have to take it! I can't answerthat question, anyway."
"I'll answer it then," declared Nan. "If you are a mill-hand yourstomach won't let you save money. There probably won't be a dozenfamilies affected by this shut-down who have more than ten dollarssaved."
"Goodness! You don't mean that that's true? Why, dad gives me that muchto spend on myself each month," Bess cried. "The poor things! Evenif they are frowsy and low, I am sorry for them. But, of course, theshut-down doesn't trouble you, Nan. Not personally, I mean. Your fatherhas had a good position for so many years-----"
"I'm not at all sure that it won't trouble us," Nan interposed gravely."But of course we are not in danger of starvation."
She felt some delicacy about entirely confiding in Bess on the subject.Nan had heard the pros and cons of the expected closing of the millsdiscussed at home almost every day for weeks past; but family secretsshould never be mentioned outside the family circle, as Nan very wellknew.
"Well," signed Bess, whose whole universe revolved around a centralsun called Self, as is the case with many girls brought up by indulgentparents. "I hope, dear, that this trouble won't keep you from enteringLakeview with me next fall."
Nan laughed. "There never was a chance of my going with you, Bess, andI've told you so often enough-----"
"Now, don't you say that, Nan Sherwood!" cried her chum. "I've just madeup my mind that you shall go, and that's all there is to it! You've justgot to go!"
"You mean to kidnap me and bear me off to that ogre's castle, whether ornot?"
"It's the very nicest school that ever was," cried Bess. "And such aromantic place."
"Romantic?" repeated Nan curiously.
"Yes, indeed! A great big stone castle overlooking Lake Michigan, aregular fortress, they say. It was built years ago by Colonel GilpatrickFrench, when he came over from Europe with some adventurous Irishmenwho thought all they had to do was to sail over to Canada and the wholecountry would be theirs for the taking."
"Goodness me! I've read something about that," said Nan, interested.
"Well, Lakeview Hall, as the school is called, was built by that richColonel French. And they say there are dungeons under it."
"Where they keep their jams and preserves, now, I suppose?" laughed Nan.
"And secret passages down to the shore of the lake. And the great hallwhere the brave Irishmen used to drill is now the assembly hall of theschool."
"Sounds awfully interesting," admitted Nan.
"And Dr. Beulah Prescott, who governs the hall, the preceptress,you know, is really a very lovely lady, my mother says," went on theenthusiastic Bess. "MY mother went to school t
o her at Ferncliffe."
"Oh, Bess," Nan said warmly, "It must be a perfectly lovely place! But Iknow I can never go there."
"Don't you say that! Don't you say that!" cried the other girl. "I won'tlisten to you! You've just got to go!"
"I'm afraid you'll have to kidnap me, then," repeated Nan, with arueful smile. "I'm very sure that my father won't be able to afford it,especially now that the mills will close."
"Oh, Nan! I think you're too mean," wailed her friend. "It's my petproject. You know, I've always said we should go to preparatory schooltogether, and then to college."
Nan's eyes sparkled; but she shook her head.
"We sat together in primary school, and we've always been in the samegrade through grammar and into high," went on Bess, who was really veryfaithful in her friendships. "It would just break my heart, Nan, if wewere to be separated now."
Nan put her arm about her. They had reached the corner by Bess's bighouse where they usually separated after school.
"Don't you cry, honey!" Nan begged her chum. "You'll find lots of nicegirls at that Lakeview school, I am sure. I'd dearly love to go withyou, but you might as well understand right now, dear, that my folks arepoor."
"Poor!" gasped Bess.
"Too poor to send me to Lakeview," Nan went on steadily. "And with themills closing as they are, we shall be poorer still. I may have to get acertificate as Bertha Pike did, and go to work. So you mustn't think anymore about my going to that beautiful school with you."
"Stop! I won't listen to you another moment, Nan Sherwood!" cried Bess,and sticking her fingers in her ears, she ran angrily away and up thewalk to the front door.
Nan walked briskly away toward Amity Street. She did not turn back towave her hand as usual at the top of the hill.