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 their luncheon, which was to be a cooked one instead of a "cold bite." Hazel, Jane and Margery spread a blanket on the ground, while Tommy sat on a rail fence, offering expert advice but declining to assist in the preparations.

It was a merry meal. Even Janus was forced to smile now and then, the driver making no effort to conceal his amusement over the bright sallies of the Meadow-Brook Girls.

"Come! We must be going, unless you want to camp beside the road to-night," urged the guide. The girls had finished their luncheon and were strolling about the field.

"Why, we haven't thettled our dinner yet," complained Tommy.

"You'll have it well settled in less than an hour. The road from here on is rough," returned Janus. "You'll be wanting another meal before the sun is three hours from the hills."

"We want to pick some wild flowers," called Margery.

"Girls, don't delay us! The driver wishes to get back home to-night and we must reach the camping place in which Mr. Grubb has planned for us to spend the night," warned the guardian.

"Yes, we've got to hike right along," agreed Janus. "Hook up those nags and be on the way, Jim," he added, speaking to the driver.

It was only a short time until they were on the way again. The country was becoming more sparsely settled, the hills more rugged and the forests more numerous. Here and there slabs of granite might be seen cropping up through the soil; in the distance, now and then, they were able to catch glimpses of the bare ridges of the mountains toward which they were journeying.

"Those mountains," explained the guide, "are called 'The Roof of New England.' There's not much of any timber on top, but on the sides you will find some spruce, yellow pine and hemlock. It's all granite a little way under the subsoil; and over the subsoil grows moss. Among these mosses and the roots of the trees almost every important stream in New England takes its rise, and some of them grow to be quite decent rivers. You ladies live in this state, don't you?"

Miss Elting nodded.

"I am afraid we never realized what a beautiful state New Hampshire is until we began looking about a little," answered Harriet Burrell.

"There are too many thtoneth," objected Tommy. "I thhall be afraid of thtubbing my toeth all the time."

"Lift your feet and you won't," suggested Margaret, with a smile.

"Buthter, I didn't athk for your advithe," retorted Tommy.

"There are the foothills," interrupted the guide, "and there is Chocorua. Isn't she a beauty?"

This was the girls' first real glimpse of the White Mountains. Chocorua loomed high in the air, reminding them of pictures they had seen of ancient temples, except that this was higher than any temple they had ever seen pictured. Its gray domes, flanked by the other tops of the neighboring range, stood out clearly defined.

"Three thousand five hundred feet above sea level," the guide informed them, waving a hand toward Chocorua. "Doesn't look that high, does it?"

"Have we got to climb up there?" questioned Margery.

"We are going to. We do not have to if we don't want to," replied Hazel.

"Oh, dear, I'm too tired to go on," whined Margery.

"I knew Buthter could never climb a mountain," observed Tommy, with a hopeless shake of her little tow-head. "But never mind, Buthter, you can thtay here and wait until we come back. It will only be a few weekth and you won't be tho very lonely. Of courthe, you will mith me a great deal."

"Don't worry yourself over me," snapped, Buster. "I can climb as well as you. But if I did stay behind, you can make up your mind I wouldn't miss you."

"Stop squabbling, girls," laughed Harriet. "Neither one of you could get along without the other."

The granite domes soon faded in the waning light. The driver urged on his horses. The carry-all bumped over the uneven road, swaying giddily from side to side, the girls clinging tightly to the sides of the wagon, fearing that they might be thrown out. Darkness shut out pretty much everything at an early hour. Janus decided that they had better wait for supper till they reached the "Shelter," a cabin part way up the side of the mountain, where tourists halted for a rest or to stay over night when intending to climb the mountain. It was not expected that there would be any save themselves there on this occasion.

The road grew so uneven that the driver became a little uneasy. He finally declared that he did not dare to try following the trail up to the Shelter that night; that either he would put them down at the foot of the mountain or make camp there until the following morning, when he would continue the journey up the mountain to the shelter.

Janus consulted with Miss Elting. He said they could walk to the Shelter in a couple of hours, provided the girls were hard enough to stand the climb. The guardian assured him that they were equal to anything in the walking line. It was, therefore, settled that the driver should take them to the foot of the mountain, whence they would make their way on foot to the stopping place for the night, thus beginning their tramp at the base of the mountain.

"How much farther have we to go?" questioned Harriet.

"A mile farther on we pass over a long, covered bridge. The road takes a sharp bend beyond that. The foot of the mountain lies less than a mile from the end of the bridge. We shall soon be there," answered Janus. The girls burst forth into song. Janus had to shout to make himself heard when he spoke to the driver. The horses were traveling at a lively pace. They did not enjoy the disturbance behind them, and their driver, having wrapped the reins about his arms to give him greater purchase, was pulling sturdily, his feet braced against the dashboard of the carry-all.

"Here's the bridge," cried the guide.

A lantern had been lighted and hung from the rear axle of the carry-all. But this did little more than cast weird, flickering shadows ahead. It certainly did not light up the road ahead of there. In the dense darkness the bridge was not visible to the eyes of the Meadow-Brook Girls.

"The bridge ith coming. Low bridge!" piped Tommy.

"Be quiet; I fear we are making the driver's work difficult," warned Miss Elting.

"Oh, but isn't this the fine ride?" cried Crazy Jane. "It's almost like being in my own darlin' automobile with the landscape slipping past on a greased track. Now, what if one of the horses should fall down? Wouldn't we be tumbled into a goose pile!" chuckled Jane.

"Oh, thave me!" cried Tommy.

"Don't suggest anything so awful," begged Margery.

"Oh! What's that!" exclaimed Harriet.

The others did not know to what she referred, but they felt a sudden jolt as the vehicle lurched to the side of the road, then back again.

"What is it?" demanded Hazel.

"The horses have taken fright," answered the guardian calmly. "Be careful that you do not excite them further."

"Are--are the hortheth running away?" stammered Tommy.

"Not yet," reassured Harriet.

"Don't be frightened," called back the guide encouragingly. "Jim can hold any hosses that ever chewed a bit. We'll be on the bridge in a minute; then they can thrash all they want to. Look out!"

There followed a crash, a breaking, splintering sound as the right rear wheel of the carry-all swerved into the side of the covered bridge a few inches from the outer end. The wheel put a hole through the siding of the bridge. It was fortunate for the carry-all that the wheel had not swerved a second earlier. Had it done so, the carry-all must have been wrecked on the stout post at the outer end of the long bridge.

What had so startled the horses none of the occupants of the carry-all knew. The driver knew that they had had a narrow escape from being hurled down an embankment. It was a bad place for horses to take fright. He had managed, however, to pick the team up by the reins and set them down in the middle of the road, where they remained but a few seconds before they were swerving to one side again, then they began leaping and galloping through the long, covered bridge.

Once more a rear wheel raked the boards. The girls cried out, fearing that they would be hurled through the siding and down into the river. They were clinging to the sides of the vehicle, gripping them firmly with their hands.

"Don't lose your presence of mind, girls," cried Miss Elting. "I think the driver has the animals under control now." She was obliged to shout in order to make herself heard.

The roar of the carry-all on the floor of the bridge was terrifying. As the vehicle rolled over the loose planks of the bridge floor the sound was almost as if a Gatling gun were being fired, accompanied by a crash, now and then, as the wagon was hurled against the side of the bridge.

"Oh, what a mess!" shouted Jane McCarthy. "Are we near the other end, or has the miserable old bridge turned around since we started? The horses are now going faster than ever, and we'll be going at the same rapid gait a few moments from now, or maybe seconds----"

Crash!

The carry-all once more struck the side. Then something else occurred. There was a sudden stoppage of the horses, accompanied by the sound of breaking woodwork. It was as if the bridge were collapsing. The Meadow-Brook Girls were piled in a heap at the forward end of the vehicle, then hurled straight over the dashboard and on over the horses, amid shouts and screams. There seemed to be no end to the crashing and screaming for some moments; then a sudden silence settled over the darkened structure, broken only by the frightened neigh of a horse.