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BETTY GORDON AT MOUNTAIN CAMP

BETTY GORDON AT MOUNTAIN CAMP

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I THE ORANGE SILK OVER-BLOUSE

II THE FRUITS OF TANTALUS

III OFF FOR A GALLOP

IV A SECOND IDA BELLETHORNE

V MEASLES

VI A DISAPPEARANCE

VII ALL MRS. STAPLES COULD SAY

VIII UNCLE DICK MUST BE TOLD

IX THE LIVE WIRE OCTETTE

X BEAUTIFUL SNOW

XI STALLED, AND WITHOUT A DOCTOR

XII THE TUNNEL

XIII AN ALARM

XIV THE MOUNTAIN HUT

XV THE LOST GIRL

XVI THE CAMP ON THE OVERLOOK

XVII OFF ON SNOWSHOES

XVIII GREAT EXCITEMENT

XIX THE EMERGENCY

XX BETTY'S RIDE

XXI BETTY COMES THROUGH

XXII ON THE BRINK OF DISCOVERY

XXIII CAN IT BE DONE?

XXIV TWENTY MILES OF GRADE

XXV ON THE DECK OF THE SAN SALVADOR




CHAPTER I

THE ORANGE SILK OVER-BLOUSE


"This doesn't look like the street I came up through!" exclaimed Betty
Gordon. "These funny streets, with their dear old-fashioned houses, all
seem, so much alike! And if there are any names stuck up at the corners
they must hide around behind the post when I come by like squirrels in the
woods.

"I declare, there is a queer little shop stuck right in there between two
of those refined-looking, if poverty-stricken, boarding-houses. Dear me!
how many come-down-in-the-world families have to take 'paying guests' to
help out. Not like the Peabodys, but really needy people. What is it Bobby
calls 'em? 'P.G.s'--'paying guests.'

"I was a paying guest at Bramble Farm," ruminated Betty, still staring at
the little shop and the houses that flanked it on either side. "And I
certainly had a hard time there. Bobby says that these people in
Georgetown are the remains of Southern aristocracy that were cast up on
this beach as long ago as the Civil War. Unlike the castaways on cannibal
islands that we read about, Bobby says these castaways live off the
'P.G.s'--and that's what Joseph Peabody tried to do! He tried to live off
me. There! I knew he was a cannibal.

"Oh! Isn't that sweet?"

Her sudden cry had no reference to the army of boarding-house keepers in
the neighborhood, nor to any signpost that pointed the way back to the
little square where the soldiers' monument stood and where Betty was to
meet Carter, the Littells' chauffeur, and the big limousine. For she was
still staring at the window of the little shop.

"What a lovely orange color! And that starburst pattern on the front! It's
lovely! What a surprising thing to see in a little neighborhood store like
this. I'm going to buy it if it fits me and I've money enough left in my
purse."

Impetuous as usual, Betty Gordon marched at once to the door of the little
side-street shop. The most famous of such neighborhood shops, as described
by Hawthorne, Betty knew all about. She had studied it in her English
readings at Shadyside only the previous term. But there was no
Gingerbread Man in this shop window!

In the middle of the display window, which was divided into four not very
large panes, was arranged on a cross of bright metal a knitted over-blouse
of the very newest burnt orange shade. The work was exquisitely done, as
Betty could see even from outside the shop, and she did hope it would fit
her.

On pushing open the door a silvery bell--not an annoying, jangling
bell--played a very lively tune to attract the attention of a girl who sat
at the back of the shop, her head bent close above the work on which she
was engaged. Although the bell stopped quivering when Betty closed the
door, the girl did not look up from her work.

Sharp-eyed Betty saw that the stranger was knitting, and she seemed to be
engaged upon another over-blouse like that in the window, save that the
silk in her lap was of a pretty dark blue shade. Betty saw her full, red
lips move placidly. The girl was counting over her work and she actually
was so deeply immersed in the knitting that she had not heard the bell or
realized that a possible customer had entered.

"Ahem!" coughed Betty.

"And that's twenty-four, and--cross--and two--and four----" The girl was
counting aloud.

"Why," murmured Betty Gordon, her eyes dancing, "she's like Libbie
Littell when she is somnambulating--I guess that is the right word.
Anyway, when Libbie walks in her sleep she talks just like that----

"_Ahem!_"
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