The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 182: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

g her.” 172 Still no answer. “This storm is making me panicky,” Anne told herself. ‘Pamela has just gone a few steps ahead and can’t hear.” At the risk of a bad fall she ran, stum- bling and sliding, down the trail, calling loudly: “Pamela! Pamela! Pamela!” The rain and the wind were the only answers. “T ought to have overtaken her by this time.’’ Anne stopped at last for breath. She turned and leoked back up the steep, slippery path. As far as she could see in the darkness, it was empty. “Tt don’t see how I could have passed Then a sudden fear made her cold all over. ‘Perhaps Pamela sprained her ankle and fell.” She started back. The way seemed end- less. For every step she took forward she seemed to slide back two. In some places she caught hold of the bushes and pulled herself up by main force, but anxiety made her unconscious of the difficulties. At last the fury of the storm passed. The rain settled into a quiet shower. It scarcely penetrated the thick leaves of the trees. _ Suddenly Anne stopped and listened. Some one—or something—was coming rapidly toward her. “Pamela! Pamela!” she shouted wildly. There was no answer. She made a trumpet of her hands, call- ing repeatedly. “Helloa!” came back an answering shout. He was quite near before Anne recog- nized the speaker as the young man of the Pointed Pine. “Have you seen Pamela?” she called anxiously. . “No,” came back the reply. “I haven’t seen any one.” “Where can she be?” Anne looked ac- cusingly at the young man as he reached her side. “YT only wish I knew,” he replied. she in the habit of—of—vanishing?”’ “T mean Pamela, Pamela Hancock, that “Ts THE ARGOSY. English girl who was drinking tea with me at the Pointed Pine,” said Anne. She then explained how she had missed her. “TY am certain I couldn’t have stepped over or around her,” said the young man encouragingly, “‘so she must be below somewhere.” He took Anne’s arm in a firm clasp, and together they ran, slid, and jumped down the mountain path. ~ Before Anne could believe it possible they had regained the place from which she had started back. Still no sign of Pamela. “She must be somewhere,” said Anne desperately. “‘She’s probably snug and warm at home by this time,” suggested the young man. “You don’t know. Pamela,” replied Anne hotly. “Tt’s because I know you so much better than Pamela that I want to take you home before you catch your death of cold,” argued the other. At last he convinced Anne that standing about in her wet clothes would not bring her friend back—that the only really sen- sible thing to do was to return to the pen- sion. If Pamela was not there an au- thorized search party could be started out. So again they started down the moun- tain. “T thought I was strong,” said Anne, “but alone I could no more hop, skip and jump down the side of this mountain than’ I could fly.” “But I’m a native of Labeaulieu,” ex- plained the young man. “I know every stick and stone and every inch of ground for miles around.” “Pm an—” ‘““American,” finished the young man for her. “Vou couldn’t tell by my. mouth,” said Anne, “‘for I haven’t any gold filled teeth. There’s another way they say they recog- nize Americans. It must be my shoes. “How did this get here,’”’ she broke off suddenly, “I never passed this bridge be- fore? I am sure it was not here when COMMUC JOO S (C@