Part 2 (1/2)

They circled the fallen tree which had so nearly been their undoing, and a moment later found themselves upon a narrow footpath which seemed to lead into the very heart of the woods.

”I wonder where he is taking us,” whispered Grace in Betty's ear. ”Maybe he's a murderer or something.”

In spite of her discomfort, Betty giggled.

”Did you ever see a murderer with a bald head like that?” she asked.

It seemed to the girls as if the path must be at least a mile long, but just as they were despairing of ever reaching the end of it, they came out into a partially cleared s.p.a.ce and through the trees caught a glimpse of something that looked like a house.

Their new acquaintance, who up to this time had been bringing up the rear, now took the lead and led them over tangled underbrush, stones and foot-bruising rocks, to his strange little dwelling.

”It's a house, it's a house!” cried Grace thankfully, as they hurried after the little man. ”I guess somebody will have to wring me out when we get inside. I'm soaked through!”

”Goodness, why don't you tell us something we don't know?” grumbled Mollie, but n.o.body was listening to her. They had reached the house and the man had swung the door open hospitably.

”Step inside, step inside, do,” he urged with a nervous gesture that reminded the girls once more of the proverbial hen. ”You will find it dry at least, and I will have a fire for you in a hurry. Just a moment till I get some wood--just a moment--”

And while he rambled on, suiting his words with quick nervous action, the girls crowded inside the cottage and looked about them curiously.

The room they had entered was large and scrupulously neat. At first glance it seemed a queer combination of hunting lodge and museum of natural history. The rough clapboards and beams of the ceiling and walls had never been plastered, and this very crudity seemed somehow to give the room an air of warmth and home-likeness that was very inviting.

Hung on the walls were several fairly large skins of animals, a gun or two, and over the huge open fireplace, which very nearly covered one end of the room, hung the magnificent head of a buck.

On the wall opposite the fireplace was a set of rudely-erected shelves, one beneath the other, and these shelves were covered with specimens of b.u.t.terflies, beetles and other bugs of every size and description. That the specimens had been mounted by an expert even an inexperienced eye could see.

The girls, who had been regarding the oddities of the room with growing interest, were brought back to a realization of the discomfort of wet clothes by the owner of the place himself.

The latter had brought firewood from somewhere, and, with the aid of half a dozen matches, had succeeded in getting a fairly good blaze.

Then with a smile of satisfaction he turned to the girls, rubbing his hands together genially.

”Come nearer to the fire--come closer--do,” he urged in his quick nervous way. ”I am sure you are chilled through--quite chilled through. I will bring chairs.” He stopped abruptly and looked about him with an embarra.s.sed air, his gaze coming to rest on the only chair which adorned the room.

Betty, seeing his confusion, was trying to think of something helpful to say, when the little man suddenly found a way out of his quandary.

”Ah, I have it!” he cried, seizing enthusiastically upon a long bench that stood on one side of the room. ”Four can sit upon this quite easily, I am sure. A happy thought--a very happy thought--” and he pulled and tugged at the bench until he succeeded in moving it close to the fire.

Afterward it occurred to the girls that they might have helped him, for it was a very heavy bench and he was rather a frail old man. But at the time they were too interested in this unusual place and their rather extraordinary host to think of anything very rational.

However, they seated themselves dutifully in a row upon the bench, ”for all the world like an orphan asylum out for an airing,” as Mollie said later, and gratefully stretched out their sodden shoes to the blaze.

They were cold and they were wet and they were fast becoming very hungry, all of which might have been expected to form a very good reason why they should have been miserable. But they weren't miserable--not at all. To the Outdoor Girls the thrill of an adventure always more than counterbalanced the possible discomforts attending it.

Their host started to draw up the one chair in the room, hesitated a moment then, as though he had just thought of something, turned and darted through the door, closing it with a little click behind him.

For the s.p.a.ce of half a second the girls looked after him. Then they looked at each other. Then they drew a long breath and let loose the flood of curious questions which had been struggling for expression for the past twenty minutes.

”Well, isn't this a lark?” cried Mollie, her eyes dancing, ”Half an hour ago we were awfully bored, and now look at us.”

”Yes, look at us,” said Grace with a little sniff. ”I'm sure we're not very much to look at right now with our hair wet, and our clothes--”

”Oh, for goodness' sake, who cares about such things?” cried Betty gaily.