The Meadow-Brook Girls in the Hills | Page 7

so full of rancor, had destroyed what little sympathy he had aroused in
her. Miss Elting stood aside while the man stepped toward the door.
At this juncture Harriet Burrell appeared in the doorway leading to the
hall. She had missed Miss Elting, and, not finding the guardian in her
room, had come downstairs in search of her. Harriet had not known that
the guardian was engaged.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Elting. I did not know--I thought you
were alone."

"It is all right. Come in, Harriet. What did you wish?"
Harriet did not reply. Instead, she gazed perplexedly at the retreating
form of Miss Elting's late caller.
"You'll be sorry you ever took up with that hound," flung back the
fellow, turning as he was about to step out on the veranda.
Miss Elting made no reply. Her lips tightened a little, then she turned
with a half-smile, regarding Harriet's frowning face quizzically.
"What does it mean, Miss Elting?" questioned the girl.
"I don't know, my dear. The man wanted to act as our guide. I am glad
he isn't the one who is to lead us over the mountains. I don't like him at
all. You heard what he just said?"
Harriet nodded.
"He was referring to Mr. Grubb."
"Oh!"
"I don't know what to make of it. What reason do you suppose he could
have for coming to me in this manner? It is all very strange."
"I don't know, Miss Elting. I am wondering."
"Wondering what?"
There was something in the set of the shoulders, in the swing of them
as the man walked away, in the poise of the head, that had impressed
Harriet Burrell as being vaguely familiar. Something of this must have
been reflected in the Meadow-Brook Girl's face, judging from the
guardian's next question.
"Of what are you thinking, dear?"
"I have seen that man before, Miss Elting."

"Where?"
"I don't know. My memory connects him with something unpleasant. I
wish I knew what it is, for I am positive there is something wrong with
him. Wait! I know! I know of whom the man reminds me. Can't you
see it? Don't you know?" cried Harriet eagerly.
The guardian shook her head.
CHAPTER III
THE START THAT CAME TO GRIEF
"Who do you think it is, Harriet?"
Harriet Burrell whispered something in the ear of the guardian. Again
Miss Elting shook her head, this time with decision.
"Wrong, this time. There isn't the slightest resemblance that I could
observe. I thought of that, too. But let's not bother our heads about it
any further. We have things of greater importance to consider this
evening, and, besides, we must go to bed soon; we are to make an early
start in the morning, you know."
Harriet shook her brown head slowly. She was positive that she was
right in her identification of the visitor, Collins. She determined to ask
some questions at the first opportunity. This she did on the following
morning, inquiring of the hotel clerk about the man who had so
strangely called on Miss Elting. The clerk said he had never heard of
the man. In the preparations that followed Harriet forgot about the
caller. Grubb had a carry-all at the hotel before they had finished their
breakfast. The equipment for the party occupied little room. Janus had
consulted with Miss Elting about the food supplies, and these were
packed in the smallest possible space, with the exception of a few
packages for their use before they got into the mountains.
The drive to the point where they would leave the wagon would occupy
the greater part of the day. The girls looked forward to that day's

journey with keen anticipation. They started out decorously and quietly,
for the inhabitants of the village were early risers and the girls did not
wish to attract unpleasant attention to themselves. Once they were well
out of the village, however, the Meadow-Brook Girls' spirits bubbled
forth in song, shout and merry laughter. The air was crisp and cool until
the sun came up, then it grew warm.
Janus, sitting up by the driver, was almost sternly silent. Miss Elting, in
the light of the previous evening's interview, regarded him from time to
time with inquiring eyes. She could not believe what her caller had told
her of their guide. Janus was plainly an honest, well-intentioned man.
Of this she had been reassured that morning in an interview with the
proprietor of the Compton House.
At noon, their appetites sharpened by the bracing air and the fact that
they had eaten an early breakfast, the party made a halt. The horses
were unhitched and allowed to graze beside the road. The guide built a
fire, Harriet and Jane in the meantime getting out something for