

E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan, and the Project
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team 



THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE

OR

CAMPING AND TRAMPING FOR FUN AND HEALTH

BY LAURA LEE HOPE

1913







CONTENTS

CHAPTER

       I A FLUTTERING PAPER

      II THE TRAMPING CLUB

     III JEALOUSIES

      IV A TAUNT

       V AMY'S MYSTERY

      VI THE LEAKY BOAT

     VII TO THE RESCUE

    VIII CLOSING DAYS

      IX OFF ON THE TOUR

       X ON THE WRONG ROAD

      XI THE BARKING DOG

     XII AT AUNT SALLIE'S

    XIII THE MISSING LUNCH

     XIV THE BROKEN RAIL

      XV "IT'S A BEAR!"

     XVI THE DESERTED HOUSE

    XVII IN CHARGE

   XVIII RELIEVED

     XIX A LITTLE LOST GIRL

      XX THE BOY PEDDLER

     XXI THE LETTER

    XXII A PERILOUS LEAP

   XXIII THE MAN'S STORY

    XXIV BY TELEGRAPH

     XXV BACK HOME




THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE




CHAPTER I

A FLUTTERING PAPER


Four girls were walking down an elm-shaded street. Four girls, walking
two by two, their arms waist-encircling, their voices mingling in rapid
talk, punctuated with rippling laughter--and, now and then, as their
happy spirits fairly bubbled and overflowed, breaking into a few waltz
steps to the melody of a dreamy song hummed by one of their number. The
sun, shining through the trees, cast patches of golden light on the stone
sidewalk, and, as the girls passed from sunshine to shadow, they made a
bright, and sometimes a dimmer, picture on the street, whereon were other
groups of maidens. For school was out.

"Betty Nelson, the idea is perfectly splendid!" exclaimed the tallest of
the quartette; a stately, fair girl with wonderful braids of hair on
which the sunshine seemed to like to linger.

"And it will be such a relief from the ordinary way of doing things,"
added the companion of the one who thus paid a compliment to her chum
just in advance of her. "I detest monotony!"

"If only too many things don't happen to us!" This somewhat timid
observation came from the quietest of the four--she who was walking with
the one addressed as Betty.

"Why, Amy Stonington!" cried the girl who had first spoken, as she tossed
her head to get a rebellious lock of hair out of her dark eyes. "The very
idea! We _want_ things to happen; don't we, Betty?" and she caught the
arm of one who seemed to be the leader, and whirled her about to look
into her face. "Answer me!" she commanded. "Don't we?"

Betty smiled slightly, revealing her white, even teeth. Then she said
laughingly, and the laugh seemed to illuminate her countenance:

"I guess Grace meant certain kinds of happenings; didn't you, Grace?"

"Of course," and the rather willowy creature, whose style of dress
artistically accentuated her figure, caught a pencil that was slipping
from a book, and thrust it into the mass of light hair that was like a
crown to her beauty.

"Oh, that's all right, then," and Amy, who had interposed the
objection, looked relieved. She was a rather quiet girl, of the
character called "sweet" by her intimates; and truly she had the
disposition that merited the word.

"When can we start?" asked Grace Ford. Then, before an answer could be
given, she added: "Don't let's go so fast. We aren't out to make a
walking record to-day. Let's stop here in the shade a moment."

The four came to a halt beneath a great horsechestnut tree, that gave
welcome relief from the sun, which, though it was only May, still had
much of the advance hint of summer in it. There was a carriage block near
the curb, and Grace "draped herself artistically about it," as Mollie
Billette expressed it.

"If you're tired now, what will you be if we walk five or six miles a
day?" asked Betty with a smile. "Or even more, perhaps."

"Oh, I can if I have to--but I don't have to now. Come, Betty, tell us
when we are to start."

"Why, we can't decide now. Are you so anxious all of a sudden?" and Betty
pulled down and straightened the blue middy blouse that had been rumpled
by her energetic chums.

"Of course. I detest waiting--for trains or anything else. I'm just dying
to go, and I've got the cutest little traveling case. It--"

"Has a special compartment for chocolates; hasn't it, Grace?" asked
Mollie Billette, whose dark and flashing eyes, and black hair, with just
a shade of steely-blue in it, betrayed the French blood in her veins.

"Oh, Grace couldn't get along without candy!" declared Betty, with a
smile.

"Now that's mean!" exclaimed Grace, whose tall and slender figure, and
face of peculiar, winsome beauty had gained her the not overdrawn
characterization of "Gibson girl." "I don't see why Billy wants to always
be saying such horrid things about me!"

"I didn't say anything mean!" snapped Mollie, whose pseudonym was more
often "Billy" than anything else. "And I don't want you to say that I
do!" Her eyes flashed, and gave a hint of the hidden fire of temper which
was not always controlled. The other girls looked at her a bit
apprehensively.

"If you don't like the things I say," she went on, "there are those who
do. And what's more--"

"Billy," spoke Betty, softly. "I'm sure Grace didn't mean--"

"Oh, I know it!" exclaimed Mollie, contritely. "