CHAPTER IV
THE POWDER MILL
"Who's game for a paddle?"
"I am!"
"And I!"
"Oh, it's the most wonderful night in the world for canoeing!"
"And there's going to be a moon, too!"
"Nobody seems to be eager or anything like that," remarked Frank,strolling out on the veranda, and regarding the enthusiastic groupwith a smile on his lips. "Why didn't you suggest something theymight agree to, Allen?"
Allen, who had indeed made the suggestion, rose lazily to his feet,and stretched out a hand to Betty.
"I never make any suggestions that aren't good," he replied. "Comealong, Betty. It's a crime to waste a minute of this wonderfulnight."
"May we, Mrs. Irving?" queried Betty, smiling up at their chaperon,who was the same who had shared their adventures, during that othereventful summer on Pine Island. "You know you love canoeing as muchas the rest of us."
"Of course we'll all go," Mrs. Irving assented readily. "Only we'vehad a long day, and mustn't stay out too late."
"I speak for Mrs. Irving in my canoe!" called out Betty.
"No, mine!" "Ours!" were other cries.
Merrily the girls ran into the house to pick up the wraps which werealways necessary on the water at night, and in another minute theyhad rejoined the boys.
"Are you glad I enlisted, Betty?" queried Allen, laying a hand onBetty's arm, and holding her back.
"Glad?" answered Betty, looking up at him with eyes that shone in thestarlight. "Yes, I'm glad that you knew the only right thing to do,and I'm glad that you did it so promptly. But, Allen--"
"Yes?" he queried, finding her little hand and holding it tight.
"I--I'm like George Washington, I guess," she evaded, looking up athim with a crooked little smile.
"I don't want you to tell a lie," he countered very softly. "I wantthe truth, little Betty. What were you going to say?"
Betty's eyes drooped, and they walked along in silence for a minute.
"Well?" he queried at last, studying her averted profile. "You're notafraid to tell me, Betty?"
"N-no," she answered, still with her head turned away. "I was onlygoing to say, that while I'm glad--oh, very glad in one way, I--I'mnot so very glad in another."
"What other?" he asked, leaning over her. "Betty, Betty, tell me,dear."
Betty hesitated for another moment, then threw up her head defiantly.
"Well," she said, "if you must know--I don't want you to go. I--I'llbe--lonesome--"
"Betty," he cried imploringly, his heart beating like a trip-hammer,"Betty--wait--"
But she had slipped from him, and had run ahead to join the others,so that he had no other course but to follow her. His head was in theclouds--his feet scarcely seemed to touch the ground.
"Well, it's about time you realized you were with us," Mollieremarked as Betty, breathless with the run and the beating of herheart, joined them. "We began to think you had eloped for fair thistime."
Betty laughed happily.
"I'm sure I don't know where we'd elope to," she remarked, steppingone dainty foot exactly in the center of the unstable craft. "We'deither have to swim or wait for the ferry, and I don't exactly knowwhich would be the more uncomfortable."
"I'd prefer the swim," said Roy, arranging the pillows carefullybehind Mollie's straight little back. To quote the latter: She wouldmuch rather do things for herself--boys were so clumsy--but theyalways looked so funny and downhearted when she told them about it,that, just in the interest of ordinary kindness, she had to humorthem!
"Well," said Allen, as he dipped his paddle into the still water,guiding the light craft from the shore, "where shall we go?"
"'Where do we go from here, boys, where do we go from here?'" sangRoy.
"'Anywhere from Harlem to a Jersey City pier,'" finished Frank,wickedly splashing some drops of water on Grace's immaculate whitedress.
"That's sensible, isn't it?" retorted the latter, favoring theoffender with a look of cold disdain. "Since we don't happen to beany more than sixty miles from Harlem or Jersey City, I'm sure Allenappreciated your suggestion."
"Oof!" said Frank. "I can't open my mouth without putting my foot init."
"That's no compliment to your mouth," returned Grace. "Frank, if youdon't stop splashing me with that horrid water, I'm going to get outand walk."
"That would be jumping from the frying pan into the fire," returnedFrank with a grin, while Mollie, who was in the next canoe, chuckledaudibly.
"Goodness," said Betty, as Allen shortened his stroke to bring thecanoes abreast. "It's almost impossible to think of there being a waron a night like this. Everything is so calm and peaceful."
"Yes, we haven't even been touched by it yet," said Allen, his moodsobering. "The Englishman to-day was telling us that nobody inEngland began to realize they were at war, until the boys began tocome back wounded and disabled."
"Oh, I can't bear to think of it," cried Amy, who, in the canoe withWill, still silent and aloof, had scarcely spoken a word till now."It seems as if there ought to be some other way of settling disputesthese days."
"That's what every nation thinks, except Germany and her allies,"returned Frank. "As it is, we've got to fight her as we'd fight a maddog--wipe the whole German nation off the map, or at least, bring itto its knees."
"That reminds me of something one of the recruiting officers told methe other day," put in Allen, with a whimsical smile. "He said he hadtalked to hundreds of American enlisted men, and the great majorityof them were eager to learn German."
"I don't admire their taste," put in Mollie, with spirit. "I hate thevery sound of it."
"Well, the soldier's idea is," explained Allen, "that if he learnsthe language he'll be able to flirt with the _frauleins_ when he getsto Berlin."
"Again I don't admire their taste," remarked Mollie spitefully."Almost all the German girls I've ever seen are too stout to suitme."
"Goodness, I had a German ancestor away back somewhere," remarked Amyanxiously. "Maybe that's why I'm beginning to gain flesh so fast.You've got me worried."
The boys laughed, but the girls answered reassuringly.
"It isn't your remote German ancestor that's giving you flesh, Amy,"said Grace condescendingly. "It's eating three hearty meals a day,and the sitting still knitting from morning to night. We girls areused to being on the go all the time."
"What's that you said?" asked Frank, bringing his eyes down from thestars to the lazy figure in the white dress. "I've never seen youwhen you weren't taking life easy."
"What!" said Grace, sitting up straight, the picture of indignation."How about our walking tour--didn't I walk just as far, and as muchas the other girls then? And how about swimming?"
"Take it back! take it back!" cried Frank. "If going down on my kneeswill help any--"
"Don't be a goose," responded Grace shortly, settling herself oncemore in a comfortable position. "Just a little bit of going down onyour knees, and we'll be in the water. Have a chocolate?"
"No, thanks," said Frank absently. His eye had caught a sudden flareof light, that had flickered for a moment and then disappeared.
"Hey, Allen," he yelled. "Did you see that light--over there, to theright?"
"Yes," said Allen, looking puzzled. "And I don't remember ever seeingsigns of life over in that direction."
"Isn't that about where the old powder mill stands?" asked Betty, andAllen turned to her quickly.
"Betty," he said, his eyes shining, "you've got it. The governmenthas bought that property, and started the old mill to working. ByGeorge, this promises to be interesting."
"There it is again!" cried Frank, while Grace strained her eyeseagerly toward the point. "What do you say to paddling over there andhaving a look?"
"It's up to the girls," replied Allen, watching Betty's face eagerly."What they say goes."
"And they say 'go,'" smiled Betty whimsically. "Do you suppose we'dgo back without solving the mystery?
Lead on, Macduff--we follow."
So Allen and Frank paddled hard toward the bend in the lake, theother two canoes, which had fallen somewhat behind, quickening thestroke to catch up with them, sensing that something unusual wasafoot.
As the canoes in the lead rounded the bend, those in them saw thatindeed the old mill had been renovated, but that the flame they hadseen had come, not from the old mill, but from a small bonfirestarted farther in the woods.
And that was not all. What made them catch their breath and signalfor silence, was the figure of a man bent close to the flickeringfire, intent upon deciphering the writing on a long piece of paper,that looked suspiciously like an official document.
So silent had been their approach that the man had not even changedhis position. Luckily the canoes were screened by heavy, overhangingbranches of trees, so that the occupants could observe without beingobserved.
Silently the other two canoes joined them, and noiselessly, scarcelydaring to breathe, the young folks watched.