HERMIT’S HUT

The next morning the girls found Bet with a tired, worried frown on her face. “Girls, I just can’t go!” she said.

“Bet dear, don’t give up the hike. You’re brooding too much over the lost fan. Come on!” pleaded Shirley.

“Yes, Bet dear, don’t back out! It will do you worlds of good!” And Kit put both arms about her tenderly. “You’re making yourself sick with all this worry!”

“No. I almost feel as if I were leaving something undone!”

“But I’ve often noticed that when you go at something else, the thing you are worrying about completely clears up. Come on, get your hat and coat.” Joy added her persuasion. “You’ve been worrying too much to think straight, otherwise you’d have solved the problem long ago or found a clue.”

Bet finally gave in, but not quite willingly. School would begin on Monday and after that the girls would not have so much time to work on the problem. Bet wondered how she could ever put her mind on algebra and history when the mystery of the lost fan still hung over her.

Shirley had brought along her photographic outfit and said, “Please don’t back out, Bet, for then none of them will go without you, and I do want to set my camera for a wild animal. I’m almost sure we’ll see deer tracks. Wouldn’t I be happy if I could get a picture of a deer for that wild animal picture contest?”

“And I suppose we’ll be expected to stand around on one foot while you tinker with all those attachments and shutters and other crazy things,” fussed Joy.

“I won’t ask you to stand on one foot. You can use both and I won’t charge you a cent more,” replied Shirley with the slightest note of annoyance in her voice. Shirley was quiet and even-tempered and was always the peace-maker when the atmosphere between the chums became charged with strife.

“All right, Shirley. It’s your affair, only don’t ask me to carry one of those boxes. I’ll have enough with this lunch, knowing we will soon make it lighter.”

“Yes, you would fuss about everything except your lunch, Joy Evans,” snapped Shirley, now thoroughly cross. “Come on, girls, let’s go!” and Shirley hastened out the door in advance of others.

“Let her go, Bet. She’ll cool off in the frosty air,” said Joy.

“I think everybody is getting nervous and I’m sure it’s my fault, I’ve been so irritable to everyone,” replied Bet.

But as they stepped outside the door their joyous spirits revived and they started away with a song. Auntie Gibbs watched them as they tramped up over the hill, and when they disappeared, she turned back to her work.

“She’s a spoiled child, that Bet! Girls didn’t act like that when I was young! They didn’t go gallivanting around: they stayed home and did their knitting!” the old lady scolded, but as she lacked an audience her temper soon cooled and she went about her work thinking only of her one great interest in life, Colonel Baxter and his daughter, Bet.

“Bless the child, she’s the most provoking thing I’ve ever seen, but she’s so kind to me, too. The way she bathed my head yesterday when it ached, was like a grown woman. The Colonel has a right to be proud of her.”

And these conflicting emotions were enough make the old lady’s head ache a second time.

While she puttered about the kitchen, planning a special cake to surprise Bet and her chums when they would return, the girls were headed toward Cruger Lake.

“We should have brought skiis!” called Joy. “Why didn’t we think of it?”

“Are we on a hike or not?” Bet stopped short in the path and confronted Joy. “This is a hike, and a hike means walking.”

“It suits me all right,” announced Kit suddenly, “but I can’t help wishing I had Powder along. He’d enjoy making this crusty snow fly.”

“Well, there’s a stone wall over there, Kit. You might pretend,” laughed Bet, but seeing a shadow pass over her friend’s face, she immediately added: “I’m sorry dear, I promised never to tease you about that.”

“Don’t Bet, some things just touch the heart too close to joke about! And you’ll never understand that until you love a horse the way I do Powder.”

“I think I do understand, Kit. I’m sure I’d be just as sentimental over Smiley Jim. Poor old fellow! I’ve neglected him lately. Today I locked him in the basement, and he begged so to come along!”

“Why didn’t you bring him?” asked Kit.

“Auntie Gibbs wanted him to stay there. She’s getting a little nervous since the loss of the fan and thinks the dog will protect her.”

Shirley was in the lead, her eyes on the ground, watching eagerly for signs of animal footprints.

“Here’s a deer track!” called Bet with a laugh and Shirley ran back at top speed.

“Well, maybe it’s only a rabbit’s,” teased Bet.

“And I thought you were my friend, Bet Baxter!” Shirley answered, as she took the lead once more.

It was stinging cold. Every few minutes the girls had to stop and clap their hands together and stamp their feet to restore circulation. They pulled their wool caps well down over their ears and faced the sharp wind. They had crossed the main highway and struck into the woods on the other side, hoping to reach Cruger Lake by lunch time.

They walked and walked till long after the time set for lunch, but saw no sign of the lake.

“Let’s build our fire in the woods, girls, and we’ll go on to the lake afterwards. I didn’t know it was so far.” Bet slung her pack to the ground, and the others followed her lead.

“What’s for lunch?” asked Joy Evans. “I’m starved!”

Outdoor cooking was a hobby with the girls and they soon had a fire started. And when a bed of coals was ready, a big steak with onions sizzled merrily.

Everybody was hungry from the long walk, and steak and sandwiches disappeared before the onslaught of four ravenous girls.

“And here’s the dessert!” Bet held up a handful of dough.

“I wouldn’t call that much of a dessert,” Joy shrugged with disgust.

“Wait and see! You take a little piece of it and pull it out like this,” and Bet stretched the dough into a long, narrow ribbon. “Now please hand me those sticks I was whittling!” After rubbing the end of the twigs in flour, Bet wound the ribbon around the end in a spiral.

“And now what?” asked Kit, as Bet passed each of them a stick with the twisted dough on the point.

“Put them over the coals but be careful not to burn them,” she cautioned.

The girls kept the sticks turning so that the dough would cook evenly. Suddenly Bet held hers up; “I do believe mine is done, and this is the way you find out. If it slips off without sticking then it is done.” Bet gave the twist a little turn and it came off.

“Now that’s a bread twist!” she smiled with satisfaction, as the girls all took theirs off successfully. “Here, fill them up with jelly, and then tell me what you think of them.”

“No words can describe this!” replied Joy. “I could just live on bread twists.”

“And now let’s be on our way!” Bet shouldered her pack. “It can’t be far to the lake now.”

After an hour’s walk they realized that something was wrong, they should have been at the lake long ago.

“I know what we must have done,” exclaimed Bet impatiently. “We took the wrong trail away back by the road. Here’s Hermit’s Hut in front of us.”

“Aw, what a nuisance. I did want to go to the lake!” Joy stopped short. “Can’t we turn back and go yet?”

“No, it’s too late today. It would be dark before we’d get there,” said Shirley.

“What’s Hermit’s Hut? That sounds interesting. Makes me think of the hermit’s caves in Arizona,” cried Kit, a joyous note in her voice.

“It’s just an old hut, that’s all. They say a queer old man stayed there at one time and lived on just what he could shoot or trap in the woods, and when he died and his body was found, there was a bag of gold coins hidden in the wall of the hut. I don’t know whether the story is true or not, but the closet in the wall is there and might have held treasure,” explained Bet.

“Some say he starved to death with all that money right there!” said Joy contemptuously. “Wasn’t he crazy?”

“There’s no sign of treasure there now,” declared Bet. “They have ripped up the floors and the walls and dug all around the hut to see if he didn’t bury some money as well.”

“That’s not likely!” Kit took Bet’s arm. “Come on up there, I want to see the hut.”

“There isn’t much to see,” returned her chum, as they climbed the small hill to the old cabin.

The wind was getting stronger and when the girls reached the Hermit’s Hut, a tumble-down shack half hidden in the brush, they gladly took shelter there from the wind.

“Now bring on your treasure closet,” exclaimed Kit. “Where’s your show?”

Bet pointed to the wall. “That’s funny,” she exclaimed, “that closet used to be right there. Someone has nailed it up.” And Bet tapped the wall with her hard little knuckles.

“It sounds hollow! Maybe some other hermit has fastened it up again,” suggested the quiet Shirley.

“Hidden treasure!” exclaimed Joy.

“You can have all the treasure you find,” laughed Shirley. “I’m off to find deer tracks.”

“Usually I’m not a curious person,” began Kit.

“You don’t say so! Do tell us more about yourself!” Joy was always teasing and the girls were used to her ways. Kit leaned over the door sill, grabbed a handful of snow, aimed it at Joy, then continued her sentence:

“This interests me, and I’m going to investigate. Perhaps some one has hidden away another fortune in the wall.”

“I think this hermit must have had a repair-man’s mania, the way this board is nailed on! Get your hatchet Kit, and we’ll investigate.” Bet held out her hand toward the pack.

No one paid any attention to Shirley, who had found a treasure of her own, some deer tracks in the snow outside the hut. “Here’s where I’ll put my camera,” she said to herself. “Oh I do hope I get a good picture!”

“She’s raving again, girls, don’t cross her!” called Joy from the doorway.

“I’m not listening!” said Shirley, with a toss of her head. She placed the camera, cleverly concealed it with evergreen boughs, and put into position the device that set off the flash powder and released the shutter. A wire extended out into the snow at some distance so that the animal would be almost sure to come in contact with it.

“There! That’s done!” announced Shirley. “Now, Mr. Deer, you can come just as soon as you want to. I’m ready!”

Bet was using all her strength to pry off the board from the wall.

“Here, give it to me, Bet! I’m a wild and woolly westerner and big nails are nothing in my life.”

With a screeching, protesting sound the huge nails were pulled out and the board came loose. The girls peered into the opening but did not see anything at first.

“Nothing there!” said Kit with disgust, as she turned away.

“There’s something white in here!” exclaimed Bet as she slipped her hand into the closet. She grasped the object in a tight grip and brought it forth.

“Oh look! We’ve found hidden treasure!” shouted Joy, laughing. “Let’s see it. No, it’s just a dusty cloth tied around a stick.”

But Bet was trembling with excitement. She exclaimed: “Girls, it’s the fan! The queen’s fan!” She unwrapped the cloth and showed the precious object, then burst into tears.

But the girls cried out excitedly: “Found! What wonderful luck!”

“How did it get here?”

“This must be a thieve’s hiding place! Oh, maybe the thief is around here!”

“What shall we do!”

“Do? I’ll say grab it and get out of this place as soon as we can. And keep running until we reach the bus line. Don’t wait a minute, girls! I’ll just lay suspicion by nailing this board back again!” And Kit gave some good swinging strokes with the hatchet.

The girls ran in terror, for they expected the thief to be in pursuit. They glanced back anxiously with little squeals. But Bet hugged the fan to her breast and did not speak.

The four girls waited for the bus at the deserted corner of the woods. It was already dusk. Bet looked anxiously about, fearing to hear a long whistle, a signal of the thieves. So many things had happened recently the girls did not feel safe. They might be held up, even yet. It seemed hours before they saw the bus.

Shirley hailed it and the girls climbed on trying compose themselves and not look self-conscious.

Suddenly Shirley jumped to her feet. “My camera! I shouldn’t have left it there! I never want to see that place again!”

“Ssh! Don’t talk so loud, Shirley!” Bet whispered. “And don’t worry. We’ll ask Bob and Phil to come up with us and get it. We’ll tell them to bring a shot gun! And who knows, maybe in the meantime you’ll get your picture of a deer.”

The bus had never seemed to go so slowly. It stopped at every street corner, or so it appeared to Bet Baxter. At the corner where they alighted, Smiley Jim came bounding over the hard snow, barking his welcome. “Smiley Jim, I’m glad you’re here, I’ve never been so happy to see you, in all my life!” Bet exclaimed.

As if the dog knew that Bet needed him, he walked by her side, and growled as he always did when strangers came to the Manor.

“I believe he knows!” said Bet softly as she patted the dog’s head.

But when she stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later, she fell into Auntie Gibbs’ arms and sobbed hysterically.

“Now, what’s the matter child? Have you had more bad luck? Your father can’t get home too soon to suit me!”

At last Bet got her breath:

“Auntie Gibbs! Uncle Nat! We’ve found the fan!”