Adirondack Mountains (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Hotels -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Love stories; Siblings -- Fiction
Thus lying, there came to her after quite a long interval, dimly, a
shout and a howl of laughter with an entirely new intonation. She looked
up then and saw the thin man, waist-deep in the bushes, just where she
had left her clothes, making faces of beastly mystery at his companions,
beckoning to them and urging them to come look. They went to him,
presently, staggering and evil.
And then they scattered and began to hunt for her.
XXVI
"Tired?" queried Mr. Bob Jonstone, with some indignation. "I'm not a bit
tired. I haven't had enough exercise to keep me quiet. And if it wasn't
your turn to make the fire, your privilege, and your prerogative, I'd
insist on chopping the wood myself. No," he said, leaning back
luxuriously, "I find it very hard to keep still. This walking on the
level is child's play. What I need to keep me in good shape is mountains
to climb."
"Like those we have at home," said Colonel Meredith, and if he didn't
actually wink at Maud, who was arranging some chops on a broiler, he
made one eye smaller than the other.
"What's wrong with _this_ mountain?" asked Maud.
"Why, we are only half-way up, and the real view is from the top!"
"Of course," said Colonel Meredith, "if you want to see the view, don't
let us stop you. We'll wait for you. Won't we, Miss Maud?"
She nodded, her eyes shining with mischief.
"But," the colonel continued, "Bob is a bluff. He's had all the climbing
he can stand. Nothing but a chest full of treasure or a maiden in
distress would take him a step farther."
"After lunch," said Mr. Jonstone, "I shall."
"Do it now! Lunch won't be ready for an hour. Any kind of a walker could
make the top of the mountain and be back in that time. But I'll bet you
anything you like that you can't."
"You will? I'll bet you fifty dollars."
"Done!"
Mr. Jonstone leaped to his feet in a business-like way, waved his hand
to them, and started briskly off and up along the trail by which they
had come, and which ended only at the very top of the mountain. It
wasn't that he wanted any more exercise. He wanted to get away for a
while to think things over. He had learned on that day's excursion, or
thought he had, that two is company and that three isn't. The pleasant
interchangeableness of the trio's relations seemed suddenly to have
undergone a subtle change. It was as if Maud and Colonel Meredith had
suddenly found that they liked each other a little better than they
liked him.
So it wasn't a man in search of exercise or eager to win a bet who was
hastening toward the top of a mountain, but a child who had just
discovered that dolls are stuffed with sawdust. He suffered a little
from jealousy, and a little from anger. He could not have specified what
they had done to him that morning, and it may have been his imagination
alone that was to blame, but they had made him feel, or he had made
himself feel, like a guest who is present, not because he is wanted but
because for some reason or other he had to be asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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