Read Ebook: The Outdoor Girls in a Winter Camp Or Glorious Days on Skates and Ice Boats by Hope Laura Lee

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Ebook has 147 lines and 9743 words, and 3 pages

"Oh, I hope there won't be any trouble," murmured Amy.

"Don't worry," said Mr. Blackford, who sat beside her.

"Here, what do you want?" blustered Mr. Jallow, as he came up. "Oh, it's you; is it, Ford? Well, you haven't any more right here than any one else. Get off. This is my land--the courts have awarded it to me."

"Under a misapprehension--yes. Because of false boundary lines--yes, Jim Jallow!"

"Who says the boundary lines are false?"

"I do!" cried Paddy Malone, standing up in the sled, and leaning on his crutch. "I say the lines were changed, Jim Jallow, and you know it! I saw the right marks put, but they were shifted, and I'm ready to testify that you paid me to keep out of the country while you changed 'em."

"That isn't so!" stormed Jallow. "Who would believe you?" but he paled, and was obviously ill at ease.

"I guess they'll believe me when Mr. Ford and Dick Norbury testify to the same thing," said Paddy, coolly.

"Dick Norbury--why, he's--dead!" gasped Jallow.

"Not much!" cried Paddy. "He's very much alive, and I've got a letter from him in my pocket now, saying he'll come on any time he's wanted and testify as to the right boundaries."

Mr. Jallow stood with open mouth. As the saying goes, all the wind had been taken out of his sails.

"I guess you had better give up, Mr. Jallow," said the court officer. "I'm here to take charge of this land until the matter is officially settled. In the meanwhile no more trees must be cut. That is a court order, and here is a copy of it. I serve it on you, and violation of it means contempt, with heavy penalties."

"The jig is up, Jim!" cried Paddy. "I told you I'd get even with you!"

Mr. Jallow said not another word. He was beaten at every point, and he knew it. His men crowded up around him.

"Shall we go on cutting?" asked the foreman.

Mr. Jallow hesitated a moment.

"No," he said, in a low voice. "Better stop--I guess."

"I may want you men to work for me," put in Mr. Ford. "I intend to go on cutting this tract, as soon as the court formalities are over. If you like you may remain in camp until it is time to go to work again. I'll hire you."

A cheer greeted this announcement. The men had looked rather blank at losing their work in the middle of winter.

"Well, it's all over," said Grace, as the sled turned homeward. "And it wasn't so terrible; was it, Amy?"

"No, indeed. Oh, I'm so glad your father has won, dear."

"I guess we all are," spoke Betty. "Now we can enjoy the rest of our stay in camp without having to worry, and we can go where we please. Can you stay, Mr. Blackford?"

"Yes, for a few days more."

The court formalities did not take long, and soon the title of Mr. Ford to the disputed land was confirmed. The change in boundary lines was shown, and, had he so desired, Mr. Ford could have proceeded against Mr. Jallow. But he preferred not to, since he had not really lost any of the valuable timber.

"Besides, there is no use making Alice feel any worse than she does," said Grace. The Jallow camp had been broken up, since it was on Mr. Ford's land, and Alice, her mother and guests had gone back to Deepdale. Our friends held undisputed sway in the woods.

Christmas was approaching. There was but about a week more in the woods, when, one fine warm day--that is, warm for that time of year--the party of young people set off for a tramp in the forest.

"I guess we had better be getting back," he observed with a smile. "They may be anxious about us."

"Yes," agreed Amy. "But it is so wonderful here--in the winter woods. I feel I could stay--forever!"

They walked along a narrow path. There was a movement in the trees over their heads.

"What is that?" asked Amy, suddenly.

"A bird, I guess. Did you think it was a bear?"

Amy did not answer at once. Then she screamed as the grayish body of some animal with curiously tufted ears, sprang from an overhanging branch straight at her.

Mr. Blackford, who was carrying a heavy cudgel, turned quickly at the sound of Amy's voice, and pulled her to one side. He was not altogether successful, for the keen claws of the lynx grazed Amy's shoulder, tearing through her coat and dress, ripping off the sleeves and leaving her arm exposed to the shoulder, a slight scratch, through even the thicknesses of cloth, bringing blood.

With a snarl the beast turned as though to repeat the attack, but Mr. Blackford brought down the cudgel on its head with such force that the brute turned with a shrill cry of pain and fled.

Then the young man, who had caught the almost fainting girl in his other arm, turned his attention to her.

"Amy--Amy!" he cried. "Are you hurt? Speak and tell me!"

Slowly she opened her eyes. The blood came back into her cheeks, that paled again at the sight of the crimson mark on her arm.

"It is only a scratch--not deep," said Mr. Blackford, reassuringly. "The brute leaped to one side. It must have been desperate to spring on you that way."

"What was it?" asked Amy, weakly.

"A lynx--a fierce sort of beast. Wait, I will bind up your arm," and he drew out his handkerchief.

As he was winding the linen about the cut he started. A queer look came over his face. He stared at a mark--a strange red mark--on her shoulder.

"That--that!" stammered Mr. Blackford. "How did you come by that mark, Amy?"

He stood holding her arm--her arm whence the sleeves had been ripped, and the young man was gazing with fascinated eyes at a peculiar star-shaped mark in deep red imprinted on the white flesh. In red it matched the ruddy hue of the blood drawn by the lynx.

"Tell me," he said, hoarsely, "how did that mark come there?"

"It is a birth mark," said Amy, slowly. "It has always been there. But why--why do you question me so? Why do you look at me so strangely?"

"Because, Amy, there may be something providential in this. Because you--you may be my--sister!"

"Your sister!" She started as though to pull away from him, but he held her arm, continuing to gaze at the red mark.

"Yes," he answered. "Wait. I must make sure this time. I have a drawing of it. Let me compare it, please. You are not cold?"

"No." Amy was pale, but her heart was pumping blood through her veins at such a rapid rate that it seemed as if she would never be cold again. The flow of blood from the scratches made by the beast had somewhat lessened.

From his pocket Mr. Blackford drew a paper. Amy could see that it contained a drawing--an outline in red ink. The young man compared this with the mark on her shoulder--a mark at which she had often wondered herself.

"It is the same--the very same," he murmured. "The same shape, the same size, and in the same place. There can be no doubt of it, I think. Amy, you must be--my sister!"

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