Greycliff heroines

Front matter

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Chapter I Guests On The Way

A blue-eyed, sunburned, slight young man leaped from a boat to the floating dock at Bath, Maine, and reached back for baggage handed him by two red¬ faced boys who were evidently most uncomfortable at being once more dressed in the garb of civiliza¬ tion. One of them pulled at his collar, and moved his head uneasily, as he balanced on the edge of the little launch, and then sprang out with a whoop which was the vent for his suppressed spirits.

“So long, boys,” said the two, in farewell to two others who remained in the boat.

“So long.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Stuart.”

“Goodbye, boys.”

The launch chugged away up the river toward Boothbay Camp, and the tall young camp councillor, with the two boys and their luggage, as well as his own, started up the slight rise toward the main street of the quaint New England town.

At the same time, an attractive, well-dressed lady, apparently under middle age, was walking briskly in the direction of this little street which led to the dock, and just before starting to cross it she saw the party of three coming toward her. Whereupon she waited, smiling a little.

“Well met, Campbell Stuart/’ said she.

In pleased surprise, the young councillor stopped and held out his hand. “So here you are, Auntie! I was wondering when you would get here! All alone? Too early for the girls, I guess. I didn’t see anything of the boats from Merrymeeting Camp as we came down the river. However, that is no sign that they aren’t coming in shortly. I have to take these kids to the station up here and see that they make their train. Where shall I meet you and the girls?”

“I just came in on the train from Portland, and we forgot to arrange by letter just where to meet. So I think I’d better go down to the dock, don’t you?”

“It isn’t much of a place for you to stay, Aunt Sylvia, but I’ll be back soon, and you will be sure to catch the girls there. Where’s the car?—and Phil?”

“In Boston,” replied Mrs. Van Buskirk with a comical look. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Are these some of the young gentlemen from the boys’ camp ?”

The boys, who had been standing aside, though listening with interest to the conversation, were in¬ troduced and soon hurried off, while Mrs. Van Buskirk went down to the dock, to which she had been directed, and sat down on a long bench there, with people who were waiting for some boat. Presently she saw the boats from Merrymeeting Girls’ Camp, which she recognized because of their load of happy girls, and walked across the muddy driveway toward the floating dock, where she saw that they were about to land. Her first glimpse of her daughter Cathalina came when the girls began to disentangle themselves from mass formation, and Cathalina jumped out, shaking out the wrinkles in her dress and tucking back wisps of hair which had been blown about by the Kennebec breezes.

“1 don’t know where we shall find Mother,” Cathalina was saying, as Hilary and June Lancaster, Betty Barnes and Lilian North joined her, “but we can walk on up and look for the car. We forgot to appoint the spot.” Just then she saw her mother. “Why, Mothery! How nice of you to come down to meet us! Where’s Phil ? Here are the rest of us.”

Mrs. Van Buskirk warmly greeted each girl and they turned away from the river to join the scat¬ tering girls, who made quite a procession up the short street.

“We have to see June off, you know, Mother,” explained Cathalina. “She goes straight through with the girls and councillors of that crowd. A good many of our friends are leaving. Do you care if we go?”

“Not at all. Where shall we meet?”

“You couldn’t take us to the station?”

“The car isn’t here, dear; it is in Boston.”

“Mercy! What shall we do!” exclaimed Cathalina.

“I have a good plan.” Cathalina and her mother were walking together and the rest of their group followed. “Do you think that they would enjoy going by boat to Boston?—at my expense, of course.”

Cathalina hesitated a moment. “Why, I imagine they’d like it. But why the change ?”

“Your father could get away, he found, and we have been up in the White Mountains for a week and more. Then he went back and I came on to Portland for a few days. Philip was delayed until your father returned to New York. The chauffeur was to have the car and Philip in Boston either to¬ day or tomorrow, and I arrived at Bath about an hour ago—at your service, my daughter!”

Cathalina laughed. “I see. Our house party is to begin on a boat. You are a dear and a darling. Do you mind coming with us to the station? I’d like to have you meet some of the girls. Frances Anderson and Marion Thurman we may not see for a long time. They do not go to Greycliff, you know.”

“Very well. Campbell just went to the station with two sunburned boys from camp. I met him as I was coming to the dock. By the way, your own complexions are of the stylish summer type.”

“Oh, yes! We’re always in the state of being either red, blistered or brown. The girls with black hair are the only ones that show any contrast.”

At the station Mrs. Van Buskirk was highly en¬ tertained. It had been a long time since she had seen so many girls abroad together. There were eager last messages, goodbyes, clusters of happy, laugh¬ ing girls, and finally the moving train, bright faces in windows and waving hands. Campbell had joined the party, and after the train left they returned to seats in the station while the matter of getting to Boston was under consideration. Mrs. Van Buskirk explained the change of plan as she had to Cathalina, to find the young people quite pleased with the idea of the boat trip to Boston.

“The boat does not leave till somewhere around seven o’clock,” said Campbell. “I’ll find out the exact time. We can have lunch at the Colonial on the way down. I don’t know what sort of accommo¬ dations we shall be able to get.” *

“That’s so,” said Cathalina. “There are two parties from our camp taking the trip to Boston, New York and Washington.”

“I took it for granted/’ said Mrs. Van Buskirk, ‘‘that we’d go by boat, and telegraphed from Port¬ land for reservations.”

“I might have known,” said Cathalina, with re¬ lief, knowing, too, that the reservations would in¬ clude the best staterooms on the steamer.

They left the station, Campbell, with courtesy, ac¬ companying his aunt; but Mrs. Van Buskirk said that she must talk to Cathalina about several matters and thus changed the order of march. Betty and Lilian purposely fell in together, leaving Hilary free for Campbell.

“This house party,” said Campbell, “is one fine plan of Aunt Sylvia’s.”

“I guess Cathalina thought it up, didn’t she?” replied Hilary.

“Yes, but it takes Aunt Sylvia to give people the time of their lives!”

“She is too lovely for words,” assented Hilary. “I’ll never forget my other visit in New York. And she doesn’t seem to be making any effort, either.”

“She makes kind plans and is fortunate in having the means to carry them out. But I believe that her house is really the center of operations for our whole clan, the ‘sisters and cousins and aunts/ as you said.”

“Shall we see the relatives this time?”

“Ann Maria’s home, I believe, and the Van Nesses. But you are not to spend too much time with any of them. I’m going to show you New York!”

“O, indeed!” laughed Hilary. “That sounds in¬ teresting. It will seem different from the wintry days I spent there and will be another new experi¬ ence.”

At the Colonial they decided to make their meal a dinner at Cathalina’s suggestion, “so we won’t have to bother with it on the boat. I want some beefsteak with French fried potatoes—let’s see!”

“O, Cathalina,” said Hilary, “just ordinary beef¬ steak with all these seafood things? I want some sort of a clam broth and some shrimp salad, and I must have a last New England doughnut—”

There was plenty of quiet fun at that last meal in little Bath. Mrs. Van Buskirk enjoyed it as much as any of them. Then they strolled down to the dock to which the City of Rockland would come. “How many times at camp, girls,” said Lilian, “have we heard that old boat salute us—three long hoots’!”

“I’ve never been on the real ocean before,” said Hilary.

“Neither have I,” said Betty.

“We have good weather,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk, “and it will be moonlight.”

Moonlight it was, as they all sat well forward on the deck to watch the moon, the clouds, and the shores of the Kennebec. Then at last they reached the ocean. Hilary caught her breath a little as they first felt the ocean swell, but it was calm “on the deep,” and the ship fairly steady.

“Are you all right?” Campbell inquired with con¬ cern, as he drew up his chair next to Hilary.

“O, yes. I felt a little funny at first, but I love it!”

There was much to tell Mrs. Van Buskirk. Camp¬ bell told the most amusing tales of doings at the boys’ camp and the girls described the grand finale of the last week in Merrymeeting Camp, the ban¬ quet, the prizes, the last trips and fun, which had not been included in any of Cathalina’s letters home.

“Probably your last letter is waiting for me at home, Cathalina,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk. “When I left Boston for this little trip with your father I left word for the mail to be forwarded to New York. Our visit to the White Mountains was un¬ expected, you know, but Mr. Van Buskirk needed a cooler place to rest than Boston. Your Aunt Ann, Cathalina, was so disappointed, but it couldn’t be helped, and I had been there long enough anyway. By the way, what do you girls want to see in Boston ?”

“Speak up, Hilary,” said Cathalina, smiling, as there was a slight hesitation on the part of the girls addressed.

“Oh, your mother will know where we ought to go. Of course I’d like to see the Bunker Hill Monu¬ ment, and the place where the Boston Tea Party was, and if it isn’t too much trouble to drive there, Lexington and Concord—and the Harvard build¬ ings are in Cambridge, aren’t they ? And, Oh, I do want to see the place where Miss Alcott wrote 'Little Women’!”

"You have chosen well, Hilary. Of course we shall drive out through Cambridge, Lexington and Concord. I think that I shall rest in the hotel in the morning and let the boys take you girls around the city. But after lunch we shall start early, and I believe I can tell you many interesting things about the different places. Nearly everything is historic or has literary associations. I love Concord myself, Hilary, and the Alcott home will delight you girls.”

It was late, indeed, when the party sought their staterooms. Mrs. Van Buskirk had one to herself, and had arranged for Cathalina and Betty to be together, Hilary and Lilian next door.

"My, this is different from the lake trip, isn’t it?” Betty commented, as the boat rolled about a little and she occasionally took hold of something to steady herself.

"Does it make you feel sick?”

"Not a bit, just funny.”

But both the girls, their chaperone, and the con¬ tented Campbell were soon in deepest slumber till time to rise and watch the boat come in to Boston Harbor.

"I do hope that Phil will be there!” said Cathalina.

"If he is not,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk, "we shall not waste any time. He knows the hotel at which I shall stop, and if our own car has not arrived we can take a taxi around the city, and, indeed, one of the motor trips out to Lexington and Concord.”

“But you wouldn’t get your rest, Mrs. Van Buskirk,” said Lilian.

“I was tired yesterday, but I believe that I shall go with you this morning anyway. It is going to be a fine day to drive. We shall see. I must get in a little time to take you all around to Aunt Ann’s, for she would be heart-broken if Cathalina and Phil were here and she did not see them.”

Mrs. Van Buskirk believed in having plans ready for any emergency, but Philip, to whom one of his mother’s telegrams had gone, was not only in the city, but at the dock with the car. This he left with the chauffeur, while he chose a place of vantage to see the people come off the boat, for Philip Van Buskirk was not going to miss any of this visit with Lilian North.

“Oh, there’s Philip now, Mothery,” exclaimed Cathalina, as Mrs. Van Buskirk and the girls, fol¬ lowing the crowd which was crossing the gangplank, reached the outer air and made ready to cross. Lilian had seen him, but made no comment as she caught a welcoming glance from Philip’s dark eyes.

It was no time at all before they were leaning back on comfortable cushions in a luxurious car, while Philip and Mrs. Van Buskirk conferred a little with the chauffeur, who touched his cap and departed.

“Boston is the home of our chauffeur,” explained

Mrs. Van Buskirk to the girls as Philip helped her into the machine. “He is to have a short vacation while Philip and Campbell drive us home. ,,

Philip Van Buskirk and Campbell Stuart were of about the same height, tall, slight and active, but of contrasting complexions, though Philip's skin was clear and smooth.

“Phil is the handsomest," thought Lilian, as she looked at the two boys in front, and she regretted her own present complexion, rather sunburned from the camp experience, though not as bad as Cathalina had extravagantly indicated. For Lilian was recall¬ ing a remark of Philip’s, in the pine grove at camp, when he looked at her admiringly while he said something about liking “golden-haired, blue-eyed, lovely-faced girls."

At the same time, Hilary of the dark brown locks was admiring Campbell’s fairness and contrasting him favorably with the graceful, stylish Philip. Both youths had the square shoulders and fine carriage which their early years at the military school in the South had given them.

Cathalina, whose spiritual face and dreamy, skyblue eyes had not changed much in spite of the prac¬ tical experiences of the last two years, was thinking, “I’ll soon be in New York," and visualized a call from a strong, well-built young officer with sunny brown hair about the shade of her own, a wave in one front lock, deep-set brown eyes, and a serious, kind face.

Betty, whose coloring was like Cathalina’s, but on whose rounder face two dimples chased in and out, was not thinking at all of any young man, but of Boston and the sights she was to see immediately, for her knight of the Hallowe’en mirror was far away, and she would not see Donald Hilton till school began.

Chapter II Chicken Sense

So far, the weather had been ideal for the drive to New York. It was warm but not too warm. The roads were well dried off from recent showers, but not dusty, and the country looked fresh and green. They had stopped in some of the most delightful places their guests had ever seen, and the young people had made one long picnic of the whole trip, after their exciting day in Boston. Philip joked Campbell in private about the “Hilaryous” time he was having and Campbell retorted with a conun¬ drum, “Why are you like a sailor ?”

“The answer has something to do with ‘North/ I suppose?”

Campbell nodded.

“Because my compass always points to the ‘North’ ?”

“That would be very good,” assented Campbell, “but I was thinking—because you always know where the North is.”

“What a pity that Aunt Sylvia and the girls have to miss our brilliant punning!”

But in spite of the special attraction which Hilary had for Campbell, and Lilian had for Philip, the gentlemen of the party were attentive to all the ladies, as they should be, and cheerfully performed the duties which naturally fell to them in the absence of the chauffeur.

On this occasion they were picnicking. They had stopped at a farmhouse to buy corn and melons, and had also found fresh cookies and a big, warm apple pie. Philip, Campbell and the girls came back to the car with hands full.

“I got some of the thickest cream, Mother,” called Cathalina, “and the farmer’s wife made fresh coffee for us.” Cathalina held up two thermos bottles with triumph, and began to sing, “The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell! High, ho, the Derry, O, the farmer in the dell!” She had never been real sure of the words, but that made no difference!

“Hush, Kittens,” said Philip, who was always evolving some new nickname for his sister. He was beginning to hand his bundles to Lilian, who had climbed into the car. “The man directed us, Mother, to a place where there is spring water that he says is all right. Say! Campbell, why didn’t I think to buy a chicken ?”

“Oh, we don’t want one,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk. “It would take too long to cook it. You can roast or boil the corn in a jiffy. By the way, did they have fresh butter?”

“Oodles,” said Philip. “I saw them doing up a little pat for Cathalina in a clean cloth and some oiled paper!”

“If I hadn’t seen those chickens in time up the road—” began Campbell, and the rest started to laugh.

“That fat old hen that decided to cross the road just before we got to her would have been about the right size.”

“Too tough, Campbell,” said Betty, laughing.

“I saw a man just out of Boston,” remarked Philip, “that had chicken sense.”

“What sort of sense is that?” inquired his mother.

“Same kind that Campbell tells about. Concluded he wanted to cross just before we got there, couldn’t have waited till we passed, and I honked and put on the brakes just in time! It’s a sort of disturbance of the mental gearing, I guess. Seeing the machine makes them think of trouble.”

“I remember the incident,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk. “But we have to be ready for things like that. It’s the easiest thing in the world to blame the pedes¬ trian. But I was brought up in the good old days of the carriages that we had up to about ten years ago, and we were trained to protect the people on foot.”

“Hear, hear!” said Philip as he started tHe car. “Everybody hold on to the lunch. It’s just around the curve in the road, I believe.”

In a few minutes, Philip turned the machine into the shade of some trees and bushes by the roadside, while they looked up a gently rising little hill to a tangled wood and a succession of ravines and hills.

“This looks good, plenty of wood for a fire, a cleared space in front, and stony. I suppose the spring is back farther. Think you can get up there. Mother?”

“It will certainly be a pity if I can’t/’ replied his mother. “You just watch me! Come on, Campbell, give me a hand and we will hunt for the spring. I can carry that little hamper, too.”

“Indeed not, Mother,” replied Philip. “I’m con¬ vinced. You need not prove your prowess further! We’ll bring all the stuff up while you hunt for water. This is the Swiss Family Robinson! Can you tell, Hilary, by the bark, whether a banana tree is bearing cocoanuts this year or not?”

“One thing we can do, Philip,” said Betty—“make clothing for the family out of the skins of all the wild animals you and Campbell catch!”

“Look out, there!” cried Philip suddenly, and he reached out a hand to pull Lilian toward the car. She had gotten out on the side next the road and was gathering together some of their wraps and packages. With one wild honk, a car whizzed around the corner, balanced on its outer wheels, con¬ tinued a little further and stopped. It was a large car like their own, with only one occupant, a man who was having trouble with his engine. It puffed and snorted for a while, but the girls and Philip did not wait to see the outcome when they saw that the car had not turned over. With their lunch, and various comforts in the way of robes and wraps to sit on, they pursued their way toward the woods, after Philip had closed and locked the car.

"Did you find the spring, Mother ?” asked Philip. "I must needs bathe my fevered brow.”

"It is only a few steps down the side of the ra¬ vine,” replied Mrs. Van Buskirk, pointing. “All of you will want a cool drink, as Campbell and I did. This is a beautiful place for a picnic. I’m glad we came around this way. How did you happen to know about this road ? It isn’t on the map.”

"Pat pointed it out as we came from home and said that there was a way to get through here, but not many tourists used the road because it was not good in some places, and especially bad in wet weather. If it had rained, I would not have brought you here. But I thought we could just about do it and make our next stopping place by night.”

While this conversation was going on the girls were preparing the eatables and the boys gathering sticks for the fire. All the accompaniments for a picnic lunch were contained in the Van Buskirk car. It was an easy matter to serve it. But to save time, most of their meals on the way were taken in hotels or tea rooms along the roads.

GKEYCLIFF HEKOINES

As the picnickers were enjoying their lunch, the man of the car below came up the hill with a cup, and inquired of Philip where the spring was located. Philip rose and showed him the place, asking if he needed any help on his car.

“I was going to ask you if you can loan me a few tools,” replied the man, “but I did not like to call you away till you had finished your lunch.”

“Oh, that is no matter,” and Philip went down hill to find one or two small implements that the man told him he lacked. “Just leave them on the step,” said Philip, “when you are through.”

“Funny looking customer,” remarked Campbell, when Philip came back.

“He was real polite, though,” said Betty.

“Do you suppose he will put the tools back?” asked Mrs. Van Buskirk.

“I guess so. He had almost everything he needed himself. His tire seems to be punctured and he is fixing it up.”

“Why doesn’t he put on a new one?” inquired Cathalina.

“Possibly he hasn’t any, or wants to be economi¬ cal. Shall I go down and ask him?”

“You seem to be getting sarcastic, Philly,” was Cathalina’s comment. “I don’t blame you, though. Who can eat this last ear of corn ? Going, going— .gone!” and Cathalina put it on Philip’s picnic plate. “We ate more while you were gone. Now it’s time for pie. Mother, there’s more coffee for you, and, Lilian, you postively must finish up this marmalade you like. Campbell, can't you eat another cookie? A New England cookie? a spice cookie? a crisp brown cookie?”

“Sounds like lines from the ‘Old Oaken Bucket/ ” said Campbell, “but if I am to eat a piece of apple pie, I must positively refuse to take anything else. The ‘little birdies’ will eat it, Cousin. Lilian, can’t you compose an ode to ‘The Last Cookie’ ?”

“ ’Twas the last cookie in the hamper,” began Lilian in song, “left cru-hum-bling a-a-a-a-lone! All its—I fear me that the tune of the ‘Last Rose of Summer’ is a little intricate at this stage! May I have my piece of pie?”

“Pie it is,” answered Philip, as he took Lilian’s plate.

The party took its time over the dessert, much spring water, and the gathering up of impedimenta. While they were thus engaged, they heard the engine of their neighbor below start, a honk from his horn, and looked up to see him wave and call, “Thank you.” He looked back once with a broad grin upon his face, then disappeared in a cloud of gasoline smoke.

“That was a funny performance,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk. “I thought his face ugly enough before, but that grin was positively malicious. I suppose he has gone off with your tools, Philip.”

Philip was really annoyed at this implication of his carelessness, but was too courteous always to his mother to show it much.

“I guess we’ll find ’em all right, Mother,” he replied.

As they went down the hill to the car, they noticed a decided cooling of the atmosphere with the passing of the afternoon.

“Do you think that we will get in early enough, Philip?”

“Yes, Mother, and the night will be beautiful, moonlight still. We ought to make a hundred miles easily after we get out on the main road, and that will take us into a good town, though there are some fair little villages along. No, thanks, Campbell, I’ll drive till we get out of this hilly place. I know the car a little better.”

Everybody climbed in but Philip, who had picked up the borrowed tools from the step with an air of triumph, and paraded them before his mother and Cathalina. He took a last look at the tires and stepped around behind the car—when they heard him exclaim in surprise. “The scoundrel!” he said.

“Why, what’s the matter, Philip?”

“That thief has helped himself to our extra tire! That is why he gave us that farewell grin! Wait till I catch up with him!” Philip hurried into the car and made ready to start.

“Wait, Philip,” said Campbell. “Are you sure

GKEYCLIFF HEKOINES that our tires are all right? He would know, of course, that the first thing you would want to do would be to catch him or get to a telephone.”

“Telephoning would not do any good. He’ll keep to out of the way places and go around the towns. I bet that his car is a stolen one!”

Both Campbell and Philip got out, and went around to look closely at tires and wheels. “I can’t find a thing out of the way,” said Campbell.

“I thought they were all right when I looked be¬ fore,” said Philip.

“Do be sure about it,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk anxiously, and the girls leaned out with faces show¬ ing concern.

“Maybe he has put a few tacks around,” suggested Campbell, beginning to look along the ground.” Perhaps he thought we would start, though, without finding out about the theft. The back of the car was so concealed by those bushes.”

“I wish I had thought to have the whole car where we could see it from where we were! Chicken sense! Chicken sense!”

At this the girls exploded into laughter, while Mrs. Van Buskirk reached out to pat Philip’s sleeve and say “Never mind, son, we can’t think of every¬ thing.”

“Oh, yes, Mother, you are very fine about it, but 1 know you are thinking how I just shook those tools in your face!” Philip was rather enjoying the joke

GEEYCLIFF HEEOINES on himself now. “That chap thought that we’d never notice if he left the tools all right.”

“Drive carefully, Philip, for fear the man did do something to the car.”

“I will, Mother.”

They started down the hill, around curves, across little bridges, where the narrow road like a ribbon wound in and out.

“Suppose the man had trouble again and we should catch up with him,” suggested Betty. “What would we do?”

“Not a thing, Betty,” replied Philip. “He would have a gun. The only way we could really catch him and get our tire would be to get the police after him at some place on the route. You girls need not worry. We are not anxious to take you into trouble. I only want to get on the main road before we have anything happen to a tire.”

“And we are one hundred miles from a town!” said Mrs. Van Buskirk.

“Oh, no, Mother. You are thinking of what I said; but, remember, I mentioned villages. It isn’t that far from a place where we could stay, and I think that it is only a few miles from a village where I could get a tire, or have something fixed if neces¬ sary. See, we are in sight of the main road now.”

Philip had scarcely spoken when there was a loud report—then a second.

“There are the tacks, Philip/’ said Campbell. “The villain’s plot is bared!”

“Melodrama!” said Lilian.

The girls as well as the boys left the car to exam¬ ine the road where the two tires had been punc¬ tured. “Glass and all sorts of sharp things,” said Philip. “He must go prepared for occasions like this. See? All this never came here by chance.”

Campbell walked over to the other side of the road. “Nothing here,” he reported. “But it was made sure that on the other side we couldn’t miss it.”