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CHAPTER VI
THE BROOCH

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Taken by surprise by Hal Duckworth’s strange action and the eager tone of his voice, Stella Sibley stammered:

“This—oh, I forgot—nothing, really. Just a little brooch I picked up near the summerhouse. I thought it was a curious design and brought it along to show——”

“Let me see it, please.”

There was still something in Hal’s tone that caused Stella to look at him curiously. She handed the brooch to him without comment.

“What is it, Hal?” she asked, as the lad turned it over and over in his fingers. “You can’t possibly think it is anything important.”

“Have you any idea how it came to be near the summerhouse?” Hal asked.

“Not a very clear one,” returned Stella. “I was quite sure none of the girls had dropped it, for they don’t wear such stuff. I asked the cook and the upstairs maid, but they disowned it. I can’t imagine unless one of those gypsies dropped it the other day—” she paused, making the suggestion a question addressed to Hal.

The latter nodded.

“That might be the answer,” he agreed. “At any rate, you won’t mind my keeping this trinket, will you?”

Although somewhat surprised, Stella agreed to the request readily enough.

“Why, of course not,” she said lightly. “I can’t think of any occasion when I would be likely to wear it. I simply brought it along as a curiosity—and a memento of the gypsies’ visit.”

“All right, thanks,” said Hal, and pocketed the trinket.

It was only Meg who noticed that the simple action was accompanied by a very thoughtful look. She noticed, too, that Hal stared straight over Stella’s head, like one who looks into the future and sees visions. Meg decided, however, for reasons of her own, to keep these observations to herself for the present.

Now that their leader had joined them, the Outdoor Girls were eager to be off.

“If we expect to make ten miles before sundown we’ve got to be at it,” stated Lota. “’Bye, boys,” she said, waving to them. “See you next Christmas, if we have luck!”

But they were not to be rid of the boys so easily. The latter accompanied them for a considerable distance along the first lap of their journey, and even then turned back with marked reluctance.

“We should be going with you,” Clem said.

“Which wouldn’t do at all,” laughed Irene. “Think how disgustingly safe and protected we would be with three stalwart youths along to smooth the path for us. No, thanks! We’ll write you a letter about it!”

But after the boys had finally turned back and were crunching along the hard-worn trail toward Deepdale, the Outdoor Girls, for all their vaunted independence, felt suddenly lonely and deserted. For some unknown reason, the woods appeared to have lost some of its friendly sparkle. They stood for some time, looking back toward the place where they had last seen the boys.

“Well, come on,” said Stella finally. “We’ll not get anywhere by standing still.”

“Do tell,” giggled Irene. “Lead on, and we’ll suit our pace to yours!”

Gradually, as they pressed farther and farther into the heart of the woods, the old zest for adventure returned to them. They felt gloriously free. They were no longer dependent upon street cars, automobiles, railroad trains. As long as their feet held out they were reasonably certain to get where they were going, without recourse to artificial means of locomotion.

However, they were to find that, after several hours of travel, even the stoutest pair of feet will grow tired and demand a rest.

“The very next place we come to that looks good, we’ll stop and have lunch,” Stella promised. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I feel hollow from my head clear down to my toes.”

“I’ve been seeing visions of ham sandwiches for the past two hours,” Carolyn confessed. “If we don’t eat soon I’ll start chewing grass.”

Meg and Carolyn had been walking in advance. Now Meg stopped and pointed through the trees. Her expression was one of extreme disgust.

“Look!” she cried. “We are back on the road again!”

The girls in the rear joined her. Looking ahead, they also saw the thin, dusty, ribbon of road. Its parched glare contrasted unpleasantly with the cool comfort of the woods.

“Bother! Now what shall we do?” cried Irene discontentedly.

“Well, we knew the path would lead us out onto the road sooner or later,” Stella remarked philosophically. “Only, it happens to be sooner, that’s all.” She pushed past Meg and Carolyn and went on along the path.

The girls came out upon the road and looked about them with interest. Although they had been over this same route quite frequently by automobile; afoot, it all looked new to them. Now they noticed many pleasant details; the almost tropical luxuriance of the verdure that flanked the road, the rock-studded bank, the wild flowers that grew between the crevices of the rock, making even that harsh surface beautiful.

The girls picked the flowers as they walked until each had gathered an armful of fragrant color.

“Now we’ve got them, what do we do with them?” Meg wanted to know. “Wild flowers aren’t particularly practical on a cross-country hike.”

“I’ll make me a chaplet for my brow,” sang Irene. She broke off and added with a chuckle; “That’s an excellent idea. We’ll make wreaths and crown each other——”

“That’s saying it with flowers,” giggled Lota. “All right, I’m game, if the rest are.”

So they sat down at the side of the dusty road and busied themselves with the flowers. They were glad to sit down, for their feet were protesting again. And their task was a pleasant one.

When the wreaths were finished they “crowned” each other with a good deal of ceremony and giggles and so-called compliments that did not compliment.

“Our heads don’t match the rest of us,” complained Irene. “A crown of posies certainly deserves something better than a knicker suit beneath it.”

“I suppose we should be garbed in flowing Grecian robes,” giggled Lota, “with girdles of gold about our lissom waists and sandals on our fairy feet——”

“Stop her, some one,” protested Meg. “She may be my twin, but there are limits to what even a twin should be asked to stand!”

Lota looked pained.

“Can’t I be poetical if I want to?” she inquired. “A hike like this should be full of poetry——”

A scream from Carolyn temporarily diverted their attention. She was pointing wildly into the woods.

“I saw something!” she cried. “It was an animal. I think it was a w-wolf!”

The Outdoor Girls on a Hike

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