Edith Lavell
The Mystery of the Fires
language
( Aug. 28, 2013)
“It’s been burnt down!” cried Freckles, dashing up behind the girls. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you. About a week ago, Larry Reed said. Awful mysterious. In the night.”
“Burned down!” repeated Mary Louise, rushing in through the trees beside the path. “Honestly?”
“See for yourself!” replied her brother.
A few steps more, and they saw for themselves that it was only too true. The blackened trunks, the dry, scarred grass, and the faint smoky odor confirmed his statement. The beautiful cottage was gone forever. Nothing remained but the charred stones of its foundation.
“Boy, don’t I wish I’d been here!” exclaimed Freckles regretfully. “It must have been some fire. But they say nobody saw it. It was practically out when they discovered it.”
“Lucky that it was!” said Mrs. Gay. “Suppose ours had caught too!”
Mary Louise shuddered; such an idea was too dreadful to contemplate.
“Do you know any of the details, Freckles?” asked his mother, as the party turned back to the road again.
“No, I don’t. Nobody does. It just happened, at night, while everybody was over at a dance at the Royal Hotel across the river.”
“Maybe we’ll hear more about it at Flicks’. Come on, let’s hurry.”
They passed one bungalow on the way to the inn, which Mary Louise pointed out to Jane as belonging to the Partridges—all middle-aged people, she explained—so that her chum was not interested. Nobody over twenty-five was any use to Jane Patterson.
“Burned down!” repeated Mary Louise, rushing in through the trees beside the path. “Honestly?”
“See for yourself!” replied her brother.
A few steps more, and they saw for themselves that it was only too true. The blackened trunks, the dry, scarred grass, and the faint smoky odor confirmed his statement. The beautiful cottage was gone forever. Nothing remained but the charred stones of its foundation.
“Boy, don’t I wish I’d been here!” exclaimed Freckles regretfully. “It must have been some fire. But they say nobody saw it. It was practically out when they discovered it.”
“Lucky that it was!” said Mrs. Gay. “Suppose ours had caught too!”
Mary Louise shuddered; such an idea was too dreadful to contemplate.
“Do you know any of the details, Freckles?” asked his mother, as the party turned back to the road again.
“No, I don’t. Nobody does. It just happened, at night, while everybody was over at a dance at the Royal Hotel across the river.”
“Maybe we’ll hear more about it at Flicks’. Come on, let’s hurry.”
They passed one bungalow on the way to the inn, which Mary Louise pointed out to Jane as belonging to the Partridges—all middle-aged people, she explained—so that her chum was not interested. Nobody over twenty-five was any use to Jane Patterson.
Enjoy reading The Mystery of the Fires? You may also like these books
-
U
Edith Lavell
The Girl Scouts on the Ranch
Paperback (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform Nov. 11, 2017) -
Ms Edith Lavell
Linda Carlton's Ocean Flight
Paperback (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform March 16, 1831) -
Z
Edith Lavell
The Girl Scouts at Miss Allen's
Paperback (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform ) -
Z
Edith Lavell
The Girl Scouts' Canoe Trip
Paperback (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform Nov. 11, 2017) -
V
Edith Lavell
The Girl Scouts' Good Turn
Paperback (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform Nov. 11, 2017)
