The Four Corners

"All safe," cried Ran, climbing down. He was followed by Ashby, Mary Lee and Trouble last, though upon this occasion not least.

Colonel Lewis drove away saying there was too much anxiety at his own home for him to stop a moment to talk.

After hearing particulars, and learning that they had eaten on their way home, Aunt Sarah hustled every one to bed, saying that rest was the best for each one of them.

Nan had fallen asleep at last, but, as Mary Lee slipped into bed beside her, she was conscious of her presence and stretched out a hand to be sure, then threw an arm around her sister as if to keep her from slipping away again.

There was great rejoicing in the morning and Jack was so full of the adventures of Phil and Mary Lee that she could not keep her mind on her Sunday-school lesson and heard scarce a word her teacher said.

Trouble was made much of and was saved so many tid-bits from the breakfast plates that he was in danger of an attack of indigestion. "I'll never call him a mongrel cur again," said Mary Lee tenderly. "If it hadn't been for him, we might never have been found."

"You forget," said Randolph, with a look across the table at Nan, "that if it hadn't been for Nan, Trouble would never have gone in search of you," and then and there Nan forgave him for his rude speech of the day before.

"If I hadn't come home, I would never have thought of sending him," she acknowledged. "He ought to have a medal, bless him."

"So he shall have," said Ran, and he gravely provided a tin medal on which was scratched: "For Heroic Service." This was fastened to the dog's collar and it was worn proudly.

However much Nan may have felt that Ran had made amends, the boy himself did not consider that he had and came to his cousin as she was tidying up the living-room. "Are you going to church, Nan?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "I feel as if I had been drawn through a knot-hole this morning. Of course, Mary Lee won't go and maybe I'll stay at home to keep her company, though she's still asleep, poor child."

"I thought if you were going I'd wait for you," said Ran.

Nan threw him a mocking smile. "I thought you didn't care for my company," she said.

"That was yesterday," returned Ran. "Besides, I didn't say I didn't want your company; I said I didn't want you to stay up there on the mountain and so I didn't, for I was afraid then that those two were lost and I knew it would be harder for you there than at home. Then I knew if we set out on a search you couldn't go and it would not do to leave you all alone."

"I realized all that afterward," Nan told him frankly.

"Then we have made up," said Ran with boyish eagerness.

"Of course," returned Nan. "I was miffed only for a few minutes. I knew before we got home that you spoke as you did so I wouldn't insist upon staying. Still," she added, "it was hard to go off and leave one's sister to wildcats, though I must say Mary Lee isn't thinking much about them at this moment, and I hope she isn't dreaming about them. There comes Phil, so he is all right. Mary Lee says he was so brave and manly, little as he is."

Phil joined them. "Say, did any of you see my watch?" were his first words.

"Why, no," replied the two. "Have you lost it, Phil?" asked Nan.

"I'm afraid so. I must have caught the chain on something in the woods and snapped it so the watch fell out when I stooped over. The end of the chain was hanging from the buttonhole when I looked last night after I came home, but the watch was gone."

"Isn't that too bad?" said Nan, sympathetically. "You will have a hard time finding it, I am afraid."

"I'm afraid so. I wouldn't lose that watch for anything, and I'm going to hunt high and low for it."

"We'll all help," said Ran. "We'll organize a search party, Phil, and go up the mountain to-morrow afternoon."

"Say, that will be fine," said Phil, gratefully. His watch was one of his dearest possessions; he had not had it very long and was feeling very hopeless over its loss. "I don't suppose we shall find it," he went on, "but I'm glad to have your help in looking for it. How's Mary Lee?"

"She's asleep," Nan told him. "Aunt Sarah said we were not to disturb her. I think she is only worn out. You are all right, aren't you, Phil?"

"Yes, indeed, or I would be if I hadn't lost my watch. They are waiting for me; I must go or I will be late for church."

"I reckon I'll go," said Nan suddenly. Miss Sarah, the twins and Ashby had gone on, and soon Nan followed with Randolph. She was feeling very thankful for her sister's safety, and she was not the only one of that congregation who sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for the deliverance of two children from the "terror by night."

The next afternoon, the search party started forth though this time Miss Sarah declared the girls should not go, that they had not yet recovered from the effects of their last trip. However, since Colonel Lewis was to be their guide, and his daughter was going, too, consent was finally given to Mary Lee, though she was charged not to lose sight of the older members of the party.

"I really don't feel as if I ought to let you go," said Aunt Sarah, "but, since Polly and her father will be there, I can assume that you will be reasonably safe."

"When Phil was so good to me and would have fought the wildcat if it had attacked us, I ought to go," said Mary Lee. "I should feel downright mean not to help look for the watch. Besides, I know where we were better than any one."

"Well, go along," said Aunt Sarah, "but don't you lose sight for one minute of Polly and her father and don't go traipsing off with Phil alone."

Mary Lee promised, and they set out.

Nan had had enough of the mountain for one while, and besides her arm was scarce strong enough for her to indulge in horseback riding, for it was in this fashion that the party determined to go. The twins were in terror of the wildcat and it was not difficult to persuade them to remain behind.

A thin stream of smoke curled up above the purple-brown trees against the blue sky as the riders turned toward the mountain path.

"I wonder if that is our fire still burning," said Mary Lee to the colonel.

"Hardly," he answered. "It is some cabin in the mountain I suppose."

Mary Lee watched the smoke drift away across the blue and wondered how it would seem to live so far from neighbors. She decided that she would not like it. They were able to penetrate much further with their horses, and this time Colonel Lewis's compass was put to use. When the path became too intricate they fastened their horses and the colonel led the way on foot, and finally reached the very log where Phil and Mary Lee had rested the night of their wanderings.

To their surprise, a little further on was a clearing, and it was discovered that the path they had taken led them to a cabin, from which came the stream of curling smoke they had seen as they came up the mountain. After searching all along their way and at last scattering the leaves by the log they concluded that they must give up the watch as irretrievably lost, and were about to turn away when Mary Lee saw some one watching them curiously from a little distance off.

"There's somebody," she said to her Cousin Polly. "I am going to ask if anything has been seen of the watch."

"Where's anybody?" asked Polly.

"Over there; it is a little girl about as big as I am."

"It must be Wordsworth's cottage girl," said Polly, "for she has 'a rustic woodland air, and she is wildly clad.' I reckon she will run if you speak to her, Mary Lee. These mountain people are mighty scary."

"Then don't you come. Maybe she won't be afraid of a girl her own size. You stay here."

Polly agreed and Mary Lee went toward the girl who did indeed show signs of alarm and looked as if she were about to run away when Mary Lee called to her, "don't go, please. I want to ask you something."

The girl stood her ground though she backed away as Mary Lee came up. She was a pretty, dark-eyed little creature with masses of light curly hair tousled about her neck. She wore a ragged, faded calico frock and her feet were bare.

"My cousin and I got lost up here Saturday night," said Mary Lee, "and if we had known there was a house so near we wouldn't have been so scared. We heard a wildcat and it frightened us nearly out of our wits."

The girl looked interested. Mary Lee had chosen the proper way to approach her. "We-alls ain't skeered of 'em," she drawled. "Maw shot one las' week, an' she come nigh gittin' another yessaday."

"Maybe it was the very one that scared us. I wish she had killed it. I wonder why we didn't see a light in your house. That is your house, isn't it?"

"Yes, we-alls lives hyah. They wasn't no light, 'scusin' the fiah, an' that died down arter supper. We-alls goes to bed with the chickens."

"We didn't get home till nearly midnight," Mary Lee told her, "and my, but I was tired. My cousin and I got lost from the rest and they had a great time finding us. If we had only gone on a little further, we should have come to your house, shouldn't we?"