The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo WeaversFrey, Hildegard G.
General
The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo Weavers
Frey, Hildegard G.
Camp Fire Girls -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Fiction
"If we're being held for ransom," said Gladys, "then mother and father
will find out where I am." She was more troubled about the worry her
disappearance would cause her parents than about any evil which might
befall herself.
They rushed to the window to see if any boat was passing which they
could signal. Not a sign of anything. Whoever had constructed this tower
had considered a great many things. Built in the middle of an extensive
estate and hidden on three sides by tall trees, it was not visible from
the road at all. The barred window in the tower could only be seen from
the lake side, so that if some one should wander through the grounds the
appearance of the house itself would excite no suspicion. At some
distance on each side of the tower a long rocky pier extended far out
into the water. It was not a landing pier, for the rocks were piled
unevenly on each other. These rocks changed the current of the water and
made boating in the vicinity dangerous, so that launches and sailboats
gave the place a wide berth. Then, on the outside of the barred window,
clearing it by about two feet, there was an ornamental wooden trellis on
which vines grew, which effectually screened the barred window from
detection on the lake side.
All these excellent points of construction were borne in on the girls as
they circled the room again and again looking for some way of escape.
Discouraged and heartsick, they finally sat down on the bed and faced
each other When the woman brought their dinner they made a further
attempt to get from her the meaning of their being held there, but in
vain. To all their written questions she simply wrote,
"I can tell you nothing."
The afternoon dragged slowly by, the girls getting more dejected all the
time.
"I believe this violet color is affecting me already," said Nyoda. "I
never felt so depressed and melancholy."
"It's the same way with me," said Gladys.
"If there was only one bright spot to relieve the monotony," said Nyoda,
"it wouldn't be so bad."
"How about our middy ties?" asked Gladys. "They're bright red and ought
to inspire courage." She took the ties from her little satchel and
spread them out over a chair.
"That's better," said Nyoda. "I feel more cheerful already." After
staring intently at the flaming square of silk for a while her mental
activity began to revive and she commenced to turn over in her mind
plans for their escape. Acting on this latest impulse, she wrote a
letter addressed to a friend of hers and sealed and stamped it. When the
deaf-mute brought their supper she drew a diamond ring from her finger,
laid it beside the letter and wrote on a piece of paper,
"The ring is yours if you will mail this letter."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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