Perhaps by then we may find not only your blind Uncle Bill, but your Uncle Simon and Aunt Sallie as well." But Mart and Lucile shook their heads. They did not have much hope. However, they were glad to help the children get ready for the farm play.
Millard tapped the card with her glass, "I desire you not to make a friend of this young lady." Charlotte sat down on the step. "Does that mean I am to be rude to her?" "Certainly not. There are ways of letting people know you do not care for their society without being rude." "I don't see how you can do it without being unpleasant," argued Charlotte; "and I like Lucile."
"I seem to know those voices, though I have not heard them for a long time. Who is it?" Lucile and Mart stepped forward. Mr. Brown was right behind them, and Bunny and Sue were near their father. Mr. Harrison, who was in charge of the Home, looked on in surprise. "Do you know Mr. Clayton?" he asked Lucile and Mart.
Mary Louise gradually added to her ranks, as girl after girl begged to be enrolled in the organization. After consulting the others, it was decided to admit all desirable girls between the ages of 14 and 18, and six companies were formed during the following weeks, each company consisting of twenty girls. The captains were the original six Alora, Laura, Edna, Lucile, Jane and Mary Louise.
It was like something that had happened in her earlier childhood when she had lain in a garret watching a mother mouse carry away her five children, Lucile thereby suffering a loss of six cents, for she would have been paid a cent apiece for the capture of those mice. The brown boy next approached the kitchen tent. He entered, to appear a moment later with a modest armload of provisions.
Brown. "And I'll be glad to have you and Lucile stay with me until your uncle and aunt come back. It's well they telegraphed instead of waiting to send a letter, for the good news came more quickly. They say they just received the first letter your Uncle Bill sent, and they made haste to answer by telegraph."
Out of the silence that ensued there came the faint pop-pop-pop of a motorboat. "Behind the point," said Lucile. "Our motorboat!" whispered Marian. Without a word Lucile started down the beach, then up the creek. She was followed close by Marian. Tripped by creeping vines, torn at by underbrush, swished by wet ferns, they in time arrived at the point where the motorboat had been moored.
Guess the natives won't miss it if they come back." "If they do. But where are they?" asked Marian in a puzzled tone of voice. "Dead, perhaps. Let's eat," she added abruptly, as Marian shivered. "But, Lucile, we can't cook the fish." "Don't have to. Frozen fish is good raw if it's frozen hard enough. I've tried it before.
So it turned out that the two parties, Lucile and Marian and Phi and Rover, had been carried about on the ice-floe for three days at last to be landed on twin islands. Phi's first thought was for the safety of his former traveling companions.
"Soon be there," Lucile echoed faintly. The climbing of the long, slanting, slippery deck was a terrible ordeal. More than once Marian despaired. At last they stood before the door. She put a hand to the knob. A cry escaped her lips. The cabin door was locked. Dark despair gripped her heart. But only for an instant. "Lucile, the key! The key we found in the cabin! Where is it?" "The key the key?"