The Outdoor Girls in Army Service
L >>
Laura Lee Hope >> The Outdoor Girls in Army Service
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 Charles Franks, Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE
OR
DOING THEIR BIT FOR THE SOLDIER BOYS
BY
LAURA LEE HOPE
AUTHOR OF "THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE," "THE MOVING PICTURE
GIRLS," "THE BOBBSEY TWINS," "BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE," ETC.
1918
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE
CONTENTS
I "I'VE VOLUNTEERED!"
II GRIM SHADOWS OF WAR
III NEWS FROM THE FRONT
IV THE POWDER MILL
V A SHOT IN THE DARK
VI MOONLIGHT AND MYSTERY
VII ROBBED
VIII THE BIG GAME
IX GAY CONSPIRATORS
X MAGIC LANTERNS
XI A SLACKER?
XII HONOR FLAGS
XIII "SMILE, GIRLS, SMILE"
XIV THE SPY AGAIN
XV MORE SURPRISES
XVI THE HOSTESS HOUSE
XVII HELPING UNCLE SAM
XVIII THE EVENING GUN
XIX FLAMES
XX THE RESCUE
XXI ALLEN A HERO
XXII MAKING GOOD
XXIII JUST FRIENDS
XXIV CAPTIVE AND CAPTORS
XXV THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED
CHAPTER I
"I'VE VOLUNTEERED!"
"Well, who is going to read the paper?"
Amy Blackford stopped knitting for a moment, the half-finished
sweater suspended inquiringly in the air, while she asked her
question and gazed about impatiently at her busy group of friends.
"It's your turn, anyhow, Mollie," she added, fingers flying and head
bent as she resumed her work. "You haven't read to us for five days."
"Oh, don't bother me," snapped the one addressed as Mollie. She was
black-haired and black-eyed, was Mollie Billette, with a little touch
of French blood in her veins that accounted for her restless vivacity
and sometimes peppery temper. "You've made me drop a stitch, Amy
Blackford, and if anybody else speaks to me for the next five
minutes, I'll eat 'em."
"Well, as long as you don't eat any more of my chocolates, I don't
care," remarked Grace Ford, lazily helping herself to one of the
threatened candies. "I had a full box this morning, and now look at
them."
"Haven't time to look at anything," returned Mollie crossly, fishing
in vain for the lost stitch. "If the poor soldiers depended upon the
sweaters you made, Grace, I'd feel sorry for them, I would indeed!"
"Oh, dear, girls, now what's the matter?"
Framed in the doorway of the cottage stood Betty Nelson, their adored
"Little Captain," fresh and sweet as the morning itself, smiling
around at them inquiringly.
"What is the matter?" she repeated as they moved up to make room for
her on the veranda steps. "I'm more afraid than ever to leave you
alone these days when every dropped stitch means a quarrel. Give it
to me, Mollie, I'll pick it up for you."
With a sigh, Mollie relinquished the tiresome sweater and Betty went
to work at it with a skill born of long practice.
"There you are," she announced triumphantly, after an interval during
which the girls had watched with eager eyes and bated breath. "That
was a mean one. Thought it was going to make me rip out the whole
row--but I showed it! Now, please, don't anybody drop any more. I
must finish that pair of socks to-day."
"Oh, dear," sighed Amy resignedly. "Then our last hope is gone."
"Goodness, that sounds doleful," chuckled Betty, stretching her arms
above her head and reveling in the brilliant sunshine. "What
particular thing seems to be the matter now, Amy? Has Will been
misbehaving?"
Amy flushed vividly and bent closer over her work.
"How could he be when he's been in town for over a week?" she
retorted with unusual spirit. "It's just that nobody will read the
paper, and I'm just dying to hear the news. I want to keep up with
the times."
"Well, if that's all," said the Little Captain, sitting up with
alacrity, "I'm always willing to oblige. Mollie, you're sitting on
it!"
"Knit one, purl two," chanted Mollie. "Wait till I get this needle
off and I'll give it to you. I can't stop now!"
"All right, then I'm going to get my knitting."
Betty made as though to rise but Amy held her down and turned
despairingly to Mollie.
"Mollie," she pleaded, "be reasonable. You know very well that if
Betty ever gets started with her knitting then nobody'll read the
news."
"Knit one, purl two, knit one, purl two," sang Mollie imperturbably.
"There, now, isn't that beautiful?"
She sprang from the seat and whirled around upon them, holding up the
almost-finished sweater for their inspection.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she repeated enthusiastically.
"Of course," said Grace, dryly, while Betty deftly grabbed the paper.
"It's the most beautiful and most curious thing I ever laid eyes on.
It isn't as though," she added, with biting sarcasm, "I had seen
hundreds just like it within the last month or two--"
"Oh, you can't make me mad," said Mollie, settling down with energy
to the final finishing. "You're just jealous, that's all, and the
more you turn up your nose, the more you show your real feelings."
"Oh, is that so?" retorted Grace, reaching out for the candy box for
the twentieth time that morning. "Well, as my kind of nose has never,
under any circumstances whatsoever, been known to turn up--"
"Oh, do stop chattering," Mollie interrupted heartlessly. "Who cares
what kind of noses we've got? Go ahead, Betty, you'd better get
started before Grace gets to quarreling on the subject of eyelashes
or something."
"I never quarreled with my eyelashes," said Grace haughtily. "I leave
that to other people."
"My, isn't she conceited!" chuckled Betty. "Now I'm going to read,"
she added, letting her eyes rest upon the glaring headlines of the
first page. "If you want to listen, all right; and if you want to
talk about sweaters and eyelashes--"
"Oh, Betty, do go on," sighed Amy. "We've been waiting so long."
"All right," said Betty obligingly; then, as the full sense of what
she read was borne in upon her, her face clouded and she bit her lip
and shook her head.
"Girls," she began, and something in her tone made them drop their
knitting for a moment and gather anxiously about her. "Those, those--
Germans--"
"Huns, you mean," interrupted Mollie fiercely, as she read over the
Little Captain's shoulder.
"Have sunk another of our ships," said Betty, her lips set in a
straight line. "And--and they think the loss will be heavy. Oh,
girls, I can't read it--it's too horrible!"
She flung down the paper, but Mollie snatched it almost before it
reached the step. Then with eyebrows drawn together, and twin spots
of red flaming in either cheek, she read the account of the disaster
from beginning to end.
"There," she said at last, flinging down the paper and glaring about
her as though the girls themselves were at fault. "Now you see what
we're knitting sweaters for, and--and--everything! Oh, if I could
just put on a uniform, and take up a gun and--and--go after those--
those awful Huns!"
"Goodness, if you looked like that," commented Grace, "you wouldn't
have to fire a shot. They'd all drop dead just from fright."
"So much the better," said Mollie, beginning to knit again
ferociously. "It would be a shame to waste good ammunition on them."
"I wonder," said Betty thoughtfully, her eyes on the far-off horizon,
"what the boys are going to do. They've seemed so mysterious lately,
and the minute you begin to question them about enlisting, they
change the subject."
"Yes, and it's made me desperate," cried Mollie, the tempestuous,
flinging down the unfortunate sweater once more. "I know what I'd do
if I were a man, and Betty and all the rest of us girls! But either
they didn't know or they wouldn't tell. Do you suppose--"
"They've decided to wait for the draft?" finished Grace, settling her
cushions more comfortably. "That's a funny thing to say, Mollie--
about our boys."
"I know," said Mollie, knitting more furiously than ever. "But just
the same, I can't understand why they have been so terribly secretive
about it."
"I guess we needn't worry about that," said Betty, although there was
a little worried line between her brows that belied her words. "Allen
wouldn't--" here she stammered, stopped and flushed, while the girls
turned laughing eyes upon her.
"Of course," she added hastily, "I mean that none of the boys would
hesitate, when it's a question of serving his country."
"That's all right, but you said Allen," teased Mollie, unconvinced.
"And oh, Betty, how you blushed!"
"Nonsense!" returned Betty, blushing more than ever. "It's just
sunburn, that's all. Now do you want me to read the rest of the news,
or don't you? Because I have to finish those socks--"
"Yes, yes, go on," cried Amy. "We won't say another word, Betty."
Which was funny, coming from quiet Amy, who usually spoke one word to
the other girls' ten.
So Betty read the news from one end of the paper to the other, until
even those insatiable young people were content, then ran into the
cottage to get her knitting.
"Now," she said, returning and seating herself with businesslike
alertness on the very edge of the step, "you'll see some real speed."
"Oh, Betty, have you come to the heel?" cried Mollie, running over to
the Little Captain, and regarding the flying needles with a sort of
awe. "Please show me how. They say the Red Cross needs socks for the
boys more than they need anything else. And I know I'll never learn
to do them."
"Oh, it's easy," returned Betty, obligingly slowing down for their
benefit, while they gathered about her, eager and bright-eyed, for
the lesson.
They formed a pretty picture, this group of outdoor girls, with the
morning sunlight falling upon graceful figures and bent heads, ardent
little patriots, every one of them, whole-heartedly eager to give
their all for the service of their country.
They were still engrossed in watching Betty's nimble fingers, when
the shrill and familiar whistle of the little ferryboat caught their
attention.
"Oh, I didn't know it was time," Amy was beginning, when Mollie
interrupted her.
"It's stopping here," she cried. "And somebody's getting off."
"It's the boys!" cried Betty, springing to her feet, the bright color
again flooding her face. "They never told us they'd be back to-day.
There's Allen. Oh, tell me, what is it he is shouting?"
The little ferryboat had steamed away, and four figures were racing
toward them.
"Betty," yelled the foremost of these. "I've volunteered--I've
volunteered!"
CHAPTER II
GRIM SHADOWS OF WAR
"What is that he is yelling?" questioned Mollie.
"He said something about volunteering," returned Betty.
"Volunteering!" came from Mollie, Grace and Amy simultaneously, and
in the excitement of the moment, their knitting was completely
forgotten.
And now while the girls are waiting for the boys to come up, let me
take just a moment to tell my new readers something concerning these
girls and the other volumes in this series of books.
The leader of the quartette was Betty Nelson, often called the
"Little Captain." Betty was a bright, active girl, who always loved
to do things.
Grace Ford was tall and slender, and a charming conception of young
womanhood. She had a brother, Will, who at times was rather hasty,
and occasionally this would get him into trouble, much to the
annoyance of his sister. Grace herself had one failing, if such it
could be called. She was exceedingly fond of chocolates, and was
never without some of this confection in her possession.
Some years before there had been a mystery concerning Amy Blackford.
She had then been known by the name of Stonington, but the mystery
had been unraveled by the finding of her long lost brother, Henry
Blackford. Amy was of a quiet disposition, and more timid than any of
the others.
The quartette was completed by Mollie Billette, often called "Billy."
Mollie was the daughter of a well-to-do widow of French ancestry, and
the girl was a bit French herself in her general make-up.
In our first volume, entitled "The Outdoor Girls of Deepdale," the
particulars were given of the organization of a camping and tramp
club by the girls, and of how they went on a tour, which brought
them many adventures.
After this first tour the Outdoor Girls went to Rainbow Lake, and
then took another tour, this time in a motor car. After that, they
had some glorious days on skates and iceboats while at a winter camp,
and then journeyed to Florida, where they took a trip into the wilds
of the interior, and participated in many unusual happenings.
Returning from the land of orange groves, the girls next took a trip
to Ocean View. Here they had a glorious time bathing, and otherwise
enjoying themselves, and also solved the mystery surrounding a box
that was found in the sand.
During those strenuous days the girls had made many friends,
including Allen Washburn, who was now a young lawyer of Deepdale.
Allen had become a particular friend of Betty's, and this friendship
seemed to be thoroughly reciprocal.
Will Ford's particular high-school chum had been Frank Haley, and as
a consequence, Frank had been drawn into the circle, along with Roy
Anderson, another young man of the town.
These young fellows often went off camping, and usually in the
vicinity of where the girls had planned to spend their outing days.
Deepdale was a picturesque city of about fifteen thousand people,
located on the Argono river, which, some miles below, emptied into
Rainbow Lake. Back of Deepdale was a rich farming country, which
tended to make the town a prosperous one.
Returning from Ocean View, the girls started on a new outing, as
related in the volume before this, entitled "The Outdoor Girls on
Pine Island." The girls occupied a bungalow, which had been turned
over for their use by an aunt of Mollie Billette. The boys were in a
camp near by.
Quite by accident both girls and boys had stumbled upon a gypsy cave,
cleverly hidden in the underbrush, and had afterward succeeded in
rounding up the entire gypsy band, incidentally regaining some
property which had been stolen from the girls.
Now, at the time our story opens, the Outdoor Girls were again at
Pine Island, in the cottage lent them by "Aunt Elvira"; but times had
changed, and they were no longer solely upon pleasure bent. The
grumbling, menacing unrest of war seemed in the very air they
breathed, and from dawn to evening they thought of very little else.
Now at the ringing shout, "I've volunteered," they were on their
feet, fairly trembling with excitement and eagerness.
"Allen, Allen!" cried Betty, the color flaming into her face. "Oh,
I'm so glad! I'm so glad!"
"Gee, he's not the only one," cried a big, strapping lad, Frank
Haley, by name, throwing himself upon the steps, and looking up at
the girls triumphantly. "Just because he can run faster than we can,
he gets all the credit."
"You, too, Frank?" cried Betty, turning upon him with shining eyes.
"And here comes Roy," put in Mollie. "Did he--"
"You just bet he did," Roy Anderson, red and perspiring, answered for
himself. "Did you ever hear of an Irishman staying out of a fight?
I'm aching already to get my hands on Fritz."
"What's the matter with Will?" asked Grace a little anxiously, for
the young fellow coming slowly toward them with downcast eyes and
bent head was her brother. "He looks as if he'd lost his last
friend."
Seven pairs of eyes were immediately focused upon the apparently
despondent figure, while the boys shifted uneasily and looked vaguely
troubled.
"Hello, folks," Will saluted them, as he sank down upon the lower
step, and looked out toward the water. "Why the sudden hush?"
For a moment no one spoke. They were all strangely embarrassed by
this unusual attitude of Will's. He had always been so frank and
outspoken. And now--
"Oh, for Pete's sake, say something!" he burst forth at last, looking
up at the silent group defiantly. "You were making enough noise
before, but the minute I come along, you just stop short and stare. I
didn't know I was so fascinating."
"You're not," said Mollie promptly.
With an impatient grunt, Will stuffed his hands into his pockets and
stalked off into the woods.
"Well," said Grace, with a long sigh, "I never saw Will act that way
before. Now what's the matter?"
"Indigestion, probably," said Allen, trying to pass it off. "He acts
just the way I feel when I have it. Which reminds me that I'm getting
mighty all-fired hungry."
"Well, you don't get anything to eat," said Betty decidedly, "until
you tell us all about everything, since the day you left here so
mysteriously to the present time."
"Seems we've got to sing for our supper--or rather, breakfast," said
Frank with a grin. "Go ahead, Allen, but be brief. I want some of
Betty's biscuits."
"Goodness, do you suppose Betty's going to start in and cook
biscuits, now?" cried Mollie. "Why, we just got through our own
breakfast."
"Well, we didn't," said Roy, nibbling a piece of grass for want of
something better. "And you ought to take it as a proof of our
devotion, that we didn't stop for any. We were too anxious to get
here to tell you our news."
"And blow a little," scoffed Mollie, the irrepressible.
"Oh, for goodness' sake stop talking," entreated Betty, with her
hands to her ears. "If the boys want biscuits they shall have them--
if I have to stay up all night to cook some for them. They can have
anything in the house, as far as I'm concerned."
"Hear, hear!" cried the boys in chorus, looking up admiringly at her
flushed face.
"If volunteering has that effect," Roy added, "I'm going back and do
it all over again."
"You said it," agreed Frank. "Gee, but I'm hungry!"
"Did you say we could have anything we wanted?" Allen was demanding
of the Little Captain in an undertone. "No exceptions?"
"None," said Betty, dimpling.
"Then," said Allen deliberately, his eyes fixed steadily upon her
sparkling face. "If you please--I'll take--you!"
"Oh," gasped Betty, her eyes falling before the young lawyer's ardent
gaze, while the rich color flooded her face. "I said anything--not
anybody. Allen, please don't be foolish. They're all looking at us."
"Well, you can't blame 'em," Allen retorted whimsically. "They're not
used to seeing two such good-looking people together," he added in
bland explanation.
"My, don't we hate ourselves!" said Betty, dimpling again. "But go
ahead and tell us your adventures," she added, glad to change a
subject which was becoming too personal. "No story--no supper, you
know."
"We don't want supper--we want breakfast," interrupted Frank, with a
grin. "What have you been saying to her, Allen--to get her dates
mixed like that?"
"Allen Washburn, are you going to tell that story or are you not?"
queried Mollie, in a menacingly quiet tone of voice. "If you're not--"
"Yes, ma'am," said Allen meekly. "Where shall I begin, please?"
"At the beginning," said Grace sarcastically, and reached for her
candy box, grimacing to find it empty.
"Thank you," said Allen courteously. "Well, as you know, we four
husky braves meandered from the island one bright morning in the
early part of the week to seek our fortune, as it were, in the city
of promise."
"Yes, that's all it does do," Roy put in pessimistically. "Promise!"
"As I was saying," Allen continued, settling himself in a more
comfortable position on the steps, and ignoring the interruption. "We
sauntered off, and straightway looked up a recruiting station."
"Oh!" gasped Amy, hands clasped and eyes shining. "That must have
been exciting."
"Well, I don't know," said Allen, scratching his head reflectively,
"that that part was so exciting, but wait till you hear what happened
afterward. After we found where the recruiting office was, we went to
the hotel we were stopping at, and punished a mighty big breakfast.
You see, we figured out that we were going to put our necks into the
noose, as it were, and we wanted something good and big to stand up
on."
"Wouldn't your feet do?" asked Betty innocently.
"Heavens, no!" replied Allen, answering the query in solemn earnest,
while the girls giggled, and the boys grinned appreciatively. "We
were so nervous by that time we weren't sure we had any feet."
"All you had to do was to look," murmured Mollie maliciously. "You
couldn't miss 'em."
Allen looked hurt, got up and sat on his feet.
"If you don't see them, perhaps you'll forget about them," he offered
by way of explanation. "You don't know how sensitive I am on the
subject of feet."
"I couldn't blame you," Mollie was beginning, when Betty broke in
with a little despairing cry for help.
"If we don't stop them," she said, looking appealingly about her, "we
won't get any farther than breakfast. Allen, what did you do next?"
"Next?" queried Allen, stretching his long legs and squinting up at
the sun. "Let me see. Oh yes! Having put down a breakfast that must
have added four pounds to our weight, we sauntered forth once more to
meet our doom. By that time we were so nervous, we almost mistook a
café on the corner for the recruiting station--"
"Hey, speak for yourself, won't you?" queried Roy, adding, as he
turned to the girls with a grin, "We had to show Allen a performing
monkey on the street, and get his mind off, before we succeeded in
engineering him to the right place."
"Gee, some fellows have a gift," said Allen, regarding Roy
admiringly. "If I could tell 'em like that, old man, I'd be Supreme
Court Justice before the month was up.
"Well, as I was saying," he continued, "after much hesitation and
side-stepping, we at last succeeded in reaching our destination.
After that, it took ten minutes to get up nerve to go in.
"When we had at last tremblingly ascended the stairs, we found
ourselves in a large room, with all the windows open and half a dozen
wise-looking men, whom we took to be doctors, presiding. There were
three or four other fellows in the room, come like ourselves, to be
examined. Then we were shoved behind a huge screen with half a dozen
other huskies--they looked like prize fighters to me--and told to
take our clothes off. Then--we were examined."
"Well?" they queried, leaning forward eagerly.
"Well," said Allen, waving his hand in a deprecating gesture, "of
course, being the perfect specimens of manhood we are, the committee
jumped at us."
"If they'd jumped on you they'd have shown more taste," remarked
Mollie unflatteringly.
"But, Allen," put in Grace, who had listened to the recital, with a
troubled frown on her forehead, "was Will with you?"
Allen's glance fell and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
"No," he said.
CHAPTER III
NEWS FROM THE FRONT
There was another awkward pause, which nobody seemed able to break.
"But Will went to town with you," Amy remarked at last.
"Yes, he went with us," Allen agreed reluctantly. "But after we
reached the hotel, and were making our plans for enlisting, he
refused to go with us, saying he had business of his own to attend
to. What that business was none of us know, for we were getting ready
to catch the train for here when he rejoined us. However," he added
loyally, "I'd bet my bottom dollar that Will has good reasons for
everything he does, and when he gets ready he'll tell us about them.
In the meantime, how about some biscuits, Betty?"
"Yes, how about them?" added Roy, rousing to sudden life. "We've done
our duty--now we want the reward."
"Goodness, you haven't done anything," said Grace loftily, as the
Little Captain vanished within the house, followed by black-eyed
Mollie. "You just sit around and let all the others do the work and
then take the credit to yourself."
"That's all right if you can get away with it," grinned Allen.
"Besides," he added, with a humorous glance at Grace's languid
figure, "you don't look the soul of energy yourself this morning,
Miss Ford."
"Looks are often deceitful," retorted Grace, languidly turning the
heel of her sock. "If you had to knit all day long, every day in the
week, you'd find out what work is."
"Well, you don't _have_ to do it," returned Roy placidly.
"Yes," said gentle Amy, roused to sudden indignation. "That's all the
credit we get. Goodness knows, we're glad enough to do the work, but
we do like it to be appreciated."
Roy turned half way round, and regarded Amy's flying fingers and bent
head soberly for a moment.
"I'm sorry," he said then, so gravely that she looked up in surprise,
and even Grace stopped knitting. "I didn't mean that we fellows don't
appreciate what you girls are doing for us. We do--and there'll come
a time when we'll appreciate it still more. When we're in the
trenches up to our knees in mud and water, when the wind finds the
chinks in our clothing, and freezes us to the bone, when--"
"Oh, please don't!" cried Amy, clapping her hands to her ears. "I
can't even bear to think of those things."
"Yet those are some of the things we've got to think about," said
Roy, still with that unusual gravity. "It's because you girls have
thought of those things, that you're giving your time and energy to
preparing for them, and warding them off. Please don't ever again
think that we're ungrateful."
"We won't," said Amy softly, fighting back a sudden mistiness which
had come before her eyes. "We'll just go on knitting ten times harder
than before."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9