The Carter Girls Part 28

"'Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him,'" she declaimed grimly. "If I had my way I should give that child a good whipping when he is found. He knows perfectly well he should not have gone off without asking."

The search kept up for more than an hour and still no sign of little Bobby. Even the most cheerfully sanguine of the campers began to feel dubious. Helen lay on her cot in an agony of suspense. The search party had none of them returned. She began to fear that the worst might have happened to her beloved little brother. If she could only get up and help! She regretted the promise she had made Dr. Wright. How could she stay still until the next day? She knew she could find Bobby if any one could. Did he not love her best of all the sisters? How strange that he had not come to her when Douglas sent him! She would have told him stories and amused him.

"Maybe he did come while I was taking that little nap," she thought. "It was only for a moment that I dozed off and usually he is quick enough to awaken any one who is sleeping." The truth of the matter was that Bobby was loath to have anybody sleep. He was famous as a waker.

"There is a car! I hear it coming up the mountain. I do hope it is Douglas and she has got him."

She waited what seemed hours but was in reality but a minute.

"Douglas!" she called. "Lewis! Somebody! Have you found him?" Her voice rang out very loud in the empty camp.

"May I come in?" Dr. Wright's voice just outside her tent.

"Oh, Dr. Wright! Bobby is lost! May I get up and help hunt? I'm so glad you have come!"

"So am I. I was called to Charlottesville in consultation and came on up here for a visit. Tell me about Bobby."

"He's been lost for hours and hours. Everybody is out hunting and I promised I'd stay here until you came, but oh, Dr. Wright, it has been hard to keep my word."

"You poor little girl! But you mustn't worry, Bobby can take care of himself anywhere he happens to be."

"You bet I can!" came from under Helen's cot and then a tousled sleepy little figure followed the voice.

"Oh, Bobby, Bobby!" cried Helen, hugging the little wretch close in her arms. "Didn't you know we were nearly scared to death about you?"

"Nope! How's I to know? I drap off to sleep, I reckon. I was so tired er gettin' driv from one to the tother all mornin' that I got so sleepy I couldn't stay awake. When I got driv to you by Douglas and found you snoozin' I jes' crawled in under your bed and must a snoozed some myself."

"To think of his being right here all the time! Please go tell the rest he is found. Tell them I found him."

"Yes, tell 'em Helen is wuth mor'n all of them put together. She kin do more findin' of things lyin' up in the bed than all the crowd can a huntin' all over the mountain."

Bobby soon became the center of attraction. Everybody had to give him a hug and everybody was sorry they had "driv" him off. Douglas promised him an Indian outfit; Nan promised to tell him all the stories she knew; Lucy invited him to tag along with her whenever he wanted to; Lewis Somerville gave him a new knife if he promised never to use it unless Josh was with him to pick up the pieces he cut off himself; Susan immediately put on some mola.s.ses to cook for an always welcome candy pulling; Oscar gave him an especial invitation to a chicken picking he was to hold that afternoon.

Helen was allowed to get up by the cautious young doctor since the snake bite was entirely gone. Her manner to him was so gentle he could not help feeling that he himself, as well as a physician who was releasing her, was welcome to the camp.

During this visit Dr. Wright found much food for thought--serious and otherwise. As he watched the Carter girls, happily active in their daily tasks, bravely puzzling over their problems in economy, unselfishly entertaining their week-end guests, he contrasted their life on the side of the mountain in Albemarle with the sheltered existence they had known--and marveled and rejoiced.

The summer was doing wonderful things for all the members of the camping party. Miss Somerville had seen a sunrise and had waxed enthusiastic over it. Susan had learned to sleep with her windows open and to realize that some of her dreams were indicative of what had happened rather than what was going to happen. Namely! a fearful dream she had had of fresh meat did not mean sure death, as the dream book said, but that she had eaten too much beefsteak the night before. Oscar had learned that there was a lot of good in po' whites when once they began to wash. Josh, in turn, had learned the value of cold water on character as well as hide.

Lewis Somerville and his chum, Bill, had learned the power of honest toil to a.s.suage the mental anguish they had had to contend with because of their interrupted careers. They were planning for the future instead of looking back and regretting the past. Bobby was learning more than any of the party. He had learned how to find a bee tree and where the sparrow hawk nests; he had learned how to skin up any tree he could get his arms around and how to slide down without barking his s.h.i.+ns; he had learned how to scrooch up his toes when the path was stony and not hurt his feet walking in briars. Josh was his tutor and had even taught him when to say we uns and you allses. Josephus had learned where to go for lump sugar, and whenever Helen appeared, the old mule limped after her, putting his head on one side and singing like a canary bird; at least, that was what Nan said he did.

So even Josephus could be numbered among those who had benefited by the healthful, unselfish, out-of-door life on the mountain side. Lucy, perhaps, of all the Carter girls, had changed the least under the new influences. Her att.i.tude toward the world in general and Helen in particular remained about the same: she was adoring and belligerent, imitative and rebellious, as variable as a weather vane in March.

The fact that Helen had been bitten by a snake was carefully kept from Lucy for fear she would go do likewise. She tried very hard to stay in bed one day with a would-be sprained ankle, but the delights of the mountains were too alluring. She hobbled out of bed before the day was over and by evening was fox trotting with Skeeter, who, by the way, had answered Frank Maury's letter in person by return mail.

But if Lucy took the business end of the summer venture lightly, Douglas, Helen and Nan shouldered its responsibilities seriously and gloried in its success. Their enthusiasm did not wane nor did their determination falter: their father should not be burdened by debts on his home-coming.

How they clung to their purpose and how they met the remaining experiences of the summer, their friends may discover, if they will, in "The Carter Girls' Week-End Camp."

THE END.