The Outdoor Girls at Rainbow Lake | Page 5

first book I related
how she was given to understand differently.
It appears that, when she was a baby, Amy lived in a Western city.
There came a flood, and she was picked up on some wreckage. There
was a note pinned to her baby dress-- or, rather an envelope that had
contained a note, and this was addressed to Mrs. Stonington. Amy's
mother was Mrs. Stonington's aunt, though the two had not seen each
other in many years.
Whether Amy's parents perished in the flood, as seemed likely, or what
became of them, was never known, nor was it known whether there
were any other children. But Mr. Stonington, after the flood, was

telegraphed for, and came to get Amy. He and his wife had kept her
ever since, and shortly before this story opens they had told her of the
mystery surrounding her. Of course it was a great shock to poor Amy,
but she bore it bravely. She called Mr. and Mrs. Stonington "uncle" and
"aunt" after that.
I described Deepdale and its surroundings in the previous book, so I
will make no more than a passing reference to it here. Sufficient to say
that the town nestled in a bend of the Argono River, a few miles above
where that stream widened out into beautiful and picturesque Rainbow
Lake. Then the river continued on its way again, increasing into quite a
large body of water. On the river and lake plied many pleasure craft,
and some built for trade, in which they competed with a railroad that
connected with the main line to New York. In Rainbow Lake were a
number of islands, the largest-- Triangle-- obviously so called, being
quite a summer resort.
Our four girls lived near each other in fine residences, that of Mollie's
mother being on the bank of the river. Deepdale was a thriving
community, in the midst of a fertile farming section.
The summer sun glinted in alternate shadows and brilliant patches on
Grace Ford as she hurried out to her friends on the lawn, after receiving
the message from her brother Will.
"What happened?" asked Mollie, for it was evident from the expression
on the face of the approaching girl that something out of the ordinary
had been the import of the message.
"Oh, it was Will. He---- "
"Did he 'fess up' about the chocolates?" inquired Mollie.
"No, but he's going to treat us to a three-pound box. I 'phoned down for
them. They'll be here soon, and you girls can enjoy them while I'm
gone."
"Gone!" echoed Betty, blankly. "Where are you going, pray tell?"

"Oh, Will forgot to do something father told him to, and he wants me to
do it for him. Get some rather important papers from Grandmother
Ford. I'm going to ride Prince. I wish you all could come. Will you be
angry if I run away for a little while? I shan't be more than an hour."
"Angry? Of course not," said Amy, gently. "Besides, it's important;
isn't it?"
"I imagine so, from what Will said. But he has the baseball fever, and
there's no cure for it. So if you don't mind I'll just slip into my habit,
and canter over. Oh, I just love Prince! He's the finest horse!"
"I'm afraid of horses," confessed Amy.
"I'm not!" declared Betty, who was fond of all sports, and who had
fully earned her title of "Little Captain," which she was often called.
"Some day I'm going to prevail on daddy to get me one."
"I should think you'd rather have an auto," spoke Mollie.
"I may, some day," murmured Betty. "But hurry along, Grace. It looks
as though it might storm. We'll save some of the candy for you."
"You'd better!"
The chocolates came before Grace was ready to start after the papers,
for she discovered a rent in her skirt and it had to be mended. Then, too,
Prince proved a little more restive than had been anticipated, from not
having been out in two days, and the groom suggested that he take the
animal up and down the road on a sharp gallop to give the excess spirit
a chance to be worked off. So Grace saw to it that she had at least part
of her share of chocolates before she left.
"And I have just time to hear the rest about the grand surprise," she said
to Betty, who had been turning and creasing in her hand the letter her
uncle had written.
"I'm afraid I can't go as much into detail as I thought I could,"

confessed Betty. "But I'll read you the letter my old sea-captain uncle
sent me. It begins: 'In port; longitude whatever you like, and latitude an
ice cream soda.' Then he goes on:
"'Dear messmate.