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Updated: May 31, 2025
"We have little to fear, however I fancy if the storm does not hold up they will not try to push past the junction until morning. We've got to sleep in the car anyway; and if we are on short rations for a few hours it certainly will do you boys and girls little harm. At Cliffdale " "Oh, Uncle Dick!" suddenly exclaimed Betty, "that is where Mr.
We are going to Mountain Camp Mr. Canary's place." "I know that place," said the telegraph operator. "There is an easy road to it from our farm through the hills. Get there quicker than you can by the way of Cliffdale. I believe my father could drive you up there to-morrow." "In a sleigh?" cried Betty delightedly. "What fun!" "In a pung. With four of our horses. They'd break the road all right.
Had the train pulled down there the situation of the crew and passengers would have been much better. They would not have been stalled in this drifted cut. Cliffdale, to which Uncle Dick and his party were bound, was twenty miles and more ahead. The roadbed was so blocked that it might be several days before the way would be opened to Cliffdale.
"It is too far to the railroad anyway. I doubt if these children get to school on time." "Telephone wires are down again. I just tried to get Cliffdale before dinner. This is a wilderness up here, Dick." "I am sorry for that young English girl," mused Mr. Gordon. "She is fairly eaten up with the idea of getting in touch with her aunt. Good reason, too. She has told me all about it.
I have already telephoned for a stable-car to be on the siding in the morning." "Yes, sir. Wot she needs is dry hair, an' the 'igher the better," said the crooked man, nodding. "They will put her on her feet again," agreed Mr. Bolter. "The balsam air around Cliffdale is the right lung-healer for man or beast." He went out and Betty heard the girls calling to her.
The marked paragraph was one of several in the column and read as follows: "It is stated upon good authority that the great Ida Bellethorne will arrive at Cliffdale, New York, within a day or two, and will remain for the winter." "Why, how odd," murmured Betty. "And did this make Ida go away?" "She has gone to Cliffdale to meet her aunt. That was her intention," said Mrs. Staples.
You thought you heard of your Aunt Ida up here, in the mountains?" "Yes, Mr. Gordon," said Ida. "I read it in the paper. But the notice must have referred to my dear little mare. I never dreamed she had been sent over here. I never dreamed of it!" "No?" "Of course I didn't! And when I got to Cliffdale there was nobody who had ever heard of my aunt. There are two hotels.
Gordon," said Fred Jaroth cheerfully. "We often put up thirty people in the summer. We've a great ranch of a house. And I can help you up the bank yonder and beat you a path through the woods to the main road. Nothing simpler. Your trunks will get to Cliffdale sometime and you can carry your hand baggage." "Not many trunks, thank goodness," replied Mr. Gordon. "What do you think, Betty?
That particular one deals with Mr. Bolter's black mare, Ida Bellethorne. Cliffdale is the place he was shipping her to far her health." "Never!" cried Bobby. "Oh, Bob! Is that so?" gasped Betty. Bob burst into open laughter. "That's a good one on you and on your friend, Ida," he declared. "If she has gone to meet her aunt up in New York State she'll meet a horse instead. How's that for a joke?"
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