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Camp-Fire Girls at Twin Lakes or The Quest of a Summer Vacation

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<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2><h3>THE RUNAWAY.</h3> The boy was excited. Evidently he was laboring under anything but normal conditions. He had appeared very suddenly around the north end of the bluff which sheltered the camp on the east. “High C” or “Jimmie Junior,” as the girls from now on referred to young Graham, had left the camp around the south extremity of the bluff. The youth in Palm Beach knickerbockers fairly rushed from the thicket north of the camp and directly toward the girls, all of whom jumped to their feet in astonishment. The newcomer did not slacken his pace, but ran up to the group of startled campers as if seeking their protection from a “Bogy Man.” And as he stopped in the midst of the group which circled around him almost as excited as he, the little fellow looked back as if expecting to behold some frightful looking object bearing down upon him. “I ran away,” were his first words; “so—so they couldn’t beat me.” “Who wanted to beat you?” inquired Miss Ladd sympathetically, leaning over and taking him gently by the hand. “Mom—an’ Ad.—an’ Olg.—an’ Jim—they all hit me,” he replied, his eyes flashing with anger. “Mom locked me in a room, but I opened a window an’ clum out.” “Did they beat you today?” Hazel Edwards questioned. “No,” replied the youth with a puzzled look; “they don’t want you to know they whipped me. They stopped it after you came and after a man came and told ’em not to.” “Who is the man?” Hazel asked. “I don’t know. I heard his name, but I forgot.” “Was it Langford?” “Yes, that’s it—Langford. He told ’em all to be good as pie to me while you was here. They thought I was asleep, but I was just pretendin’.” “Did Mr. Langford say why they must be good to you while we were here?” asked Katherine. “I guess he did,” the boy replied slowly. “He said somebody’d take me away and Mom ’u’d lose a lot o’ money.” “That’s just what we thought,” Hazel declared. “What else did you overhear?” Katherine inquired. “They’re goin’ to be awful nice and awful mean.” “Awful nice and awful mean,” Katherine repeated. “That’s interesting. What do you mean by that?” “They’re goin’ to be awful nice to your face, but mean on the sly.” “Have they done anything mean yet?” Miss Ladd interposed, having in mind the depredations of the night before. “I don’t know,” the boy answered. “They were talkin’ about doing somethin’ last night, and the man and Jim went out together.” “You don’t know what they proposed to do?” “No—just somethin’, anything they could.” “What is your name, little boy?” Hazel asked. “Glen” was the answer. “Glen what?” “Glen Graham.” “Isn’t it Glen Irving?” The boy looked doubtfully at his interrogator. “I don’t know,” he replied slowly. “I guess not.” “Didn’t you ever hear the name Irving before?” The boy’s face brightened up suddenly. “That was my papa’s name,” he said eagerly. “Now, I want to ask you an important question,” said Miss Ladd impressively. “Try your best to tell us all you can, and don’t tell any of the Grahams you were down here talking to us. We won’t forget you. If they beat you any more come, and tell us if you can get away. We’ll have the police after them. But be sure to keep this to yourself. Now, here’s the question I want you to answer: Did anybody outside of the Graham family ever see them beat you?” “Sure,” Glen replied quickly. “Byron Scott did. So did Mrs. Pruitt and Guy Davis and Mark Taylor.” “Where do they live?” was Miss Ladd’s next question. “Byron lives here, so does Mrs. Pruitt. Guy and Mark live in Baltimore.” “Do they live near the Graham’s home in Baltimore?” “Yes, right in the same block. Mark lives next door.” “Good. Now, Glen, we are going to take you back to Mrs. Graham. We haven’t any right to keep you here, but if they beat you any more, we will complain to the police and take you away never to come back to them.” “Oh, I wish you would,” exclaimed the little fellow, throwing his arms around the neck of the Guardian who had seated herself on the grass before him. “I don’t want them to scare you with a ghost.” “Scare us with a ghost!” Miss Ladd repeated in astonishment. “What do you mean by that?” “They said——” the boy began, but his explanation was interrupted in a manner so confusing that the group of Camp Fire Girls might easily have wondered if the world were suddenly assuming all the absurdities of a clownish paradise in order to be consistent with what was now taking place. Addie Graham, the girl of ultra-style and perfume who had behaved so rudely to little Glen when she discovered the runaway with Katherine and Hazel in the woods, suddenly dashed into the deeply interested group of Camp Fire inquisitors, seized the boy in her arms, kissed him with apparent passionate fondness, and addressed him with a gush of endearment that must have brought tears to the eyes of an unsophisticated listener. <hr class="major" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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