CHAPTER XXX

A GENERAL ALARM

Dawn came, rosy-pale at first, but turning to red, and thrusting back into the depths of the forest the blackness of the night--the long night that had seemed like a pall of blackness over the hearts of Sylvia and her friends.

And with the dawn came hope, renewed hope, as it always does.

"First, a good breakfast!" said Professor Russman, as he greeted his guests. "A good meal, and we shall be ready to take up the fight of the day. How did you sleep, Sylvia?"

"Not at all," she said, trying not to speak wearily, and it needed but a glance at her eyes to show how she had spent the night hours--in a useless vigil, hoping against hope.

"Then you will sleep all the better to-night," was his cheerful comment. "We shall have Roy back with us then."

"I hope so," murmured Rose, but so low that only Sylvia heard her. She pressed her chum's hand under the cover of the tablecloth, for they were then at breakfast.

The meal did put new heart into them, though Sylvia could not help wondering what fare her brother had, and where he would eat. She looked out of the bungalow window into the dense forest--a wood marked here and there by trails along which the search must now be made for the missing young man.

"What is the first thing to do?" asked Mrs. Brownley, as they pushed back their chairs from the table. The chaperon was one of those efficient women who like things done decently and in order, even when there was such an emergency matter as the search for a lost person. She was a great believer in system, and the new doctrine of efficiency.

"I think we shall go down to the house of one of the guides, whom Adolph was to see last night," answered the professor. "Old Sam may have some news. Yes, that is what we shall do first."

"And after that?" asked Sylvia.

"It all depends. But don't get discouraged, my dear, if we do not have word from your brother at once. He may be in the woods for several days and nights before we find him."

Sylvia uttered a low cry of protest.

"Oh, no--no!" she exclaimed.

"But there will be comparatively little danger," Mr. Russman said. "It is the height of summer. It would do no harm to spend several nights in the open. But there are many shelters and open camps in the woods, and your brother is enough of a woodsman to build a shelter for himself, is he not?"

"Under ordinary circumstances, yes," Sylvia answered. "But if he is delirious----"

"Which I am convinced he was, or he never would have rushed out the way he did," Mr. Russman said. "It is better to face the worst, and then every little we can remove makes us so much better off. Even a delirious man would be able to realise that he must have shelter. But, even without it, he would suffer little in the woods at this season."

"There are no wild beasts; are there?" asked Alice.

"No, young lady. At least, not around here. Deer are the largest animals, but the hunting season is closed, so there is no danger of an accident from guns.

"Oh, do not worry! I am sure we shall find Roy all right and that he will not suffer. If we cannot locate him ourselves I will cause a general alarm to be sounded. All the guides, canoemen, campers and cottagers of the vicinity will be glad to join in the search. It is often done up here when a person is lost in the woods."

"Does that often happen?" asked Rose.

"Oh, yes, and in nearly every case they are found again. Of course it is easy to get lost, for the trails are confusing to one who does not know them," the professor said. "But we will hope for the best. We, ourselves, followed Roy as far as we could last night, but he eluded us. However, perhaps my son and Harry will have had better success.

"Now we will go to Old Sam's house. He is one of the best guides in this region, and Adolph knows him well. He will be able to advise us. Do not be discouraged."

He spoke hopefully--cheerfully--and put heart into Sylvia and the others.

It was an almost tragic turn to the Adirondack outing of the Nowadays Girls. They had been so happy but a comparatively short time before--at the dance--the masquerade. Would Sylvia, at least, and would Rose ever be so happy again? Or would the shadow of the lost one always hover over them? They feared this, yet they did not like to admit that fear even to themselves.

Even the loveliness of the woods and the lake, and the entrancing situation of the Russman bungalow, failed to arouse any sense of appreciation in Sylvia and her friends. They looked at it without seeing. They had been extended the warmest hospitality by Mr. and Mrs. Russman, and made to feel perfectly at home. And Sylvia and her friends were truly grateful. But they could not shake off the feeling of gloom.

"Shall you let your folks know Roy is missing?" asked Hazel.

"Not at once," Sylvia replied. "It would only cause them great pain and sorrow, and perhaps unnecessarily. We may find him to-day. If we do not, and if he remains unfound after to-night, then, of course, I must let papa know. He would want to engage a posse of men and find him. But we will make the search ourselves first."

"Bravo!" cried Professor Russman when he heard this. "That is the right spirit! I am sure we shall have success."

Leaving the servants and Mrs. Russman in the bungalow, the girls accompanied the professor into the woods, along the forest trail that led to the cabin of Old Sam, a veteran guide.

Sylvia tried to induce Mrs. Brownley to remain also, but the chaperon insisted on going with her charges.

"Your mothers depend on me, and I am not going to desert now," she said, firmly.

"But it is such a trial for you," objected Sylvia. "It is too much to expect you to tramp through the woods."

"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed the sturdy lady. "I am not like some modern girls, who can only dance one fox trot an evening. I was brought up to take long walks. And you seem to forget that I have done some mountain climbing in the Alps. If I could stand that, surely I can stand our Adirondack woods in summer. Now don't talk any more about leaving me behind, for I simply shan't stay. Go along!"

Professor Russman looked admiringly at the chaperon. His own wife was an accomplished woods-woman, but it was necessary that some one in authority remain at the bungalow, and she volunteered for that waiting service. Roy might wander back, or her son or Harry Montray might return, and they would not know what to expect if only the servants were there to explain matters.

Our friends had brought their most needed luggage with them. They had expected to go to some hotel or wood-camp near the Russman bungalow, but though there was one not far off, Mr. Russman would not hear of their leaving him and his wife. There was plenty of room in the bungalow, he insisted, which was perfectly true, and they would want to be there to hear the first news--good or bad.

But Rose and Sylvia, almost with tears in their eyes, refused to admit the possibility of anything but good tidings.

From their cases the girls and Mrs. Brownley took stout walking shoes, short skirts of a kind to defy brambles and briars, and with a lunch, a portable coffee outfit, and other necessaries and some medicines, they fared forth.

Somehow or other the spirits of all rose as they started off on the search. It was the very fact of doing something, and not sitting in the darkness, waiting, that caused this. The energy of work drove out the bad spirits of inactivity.

Professor Russman showed Sylvia and the others where Roy had entered the woods as he rushed from the table the night before, when the delirium so unaccountably seized him. It was a well-travelled trail, and of course no special footprints could be seen. Presently this trail branched off into several others, and there was no way of telling which path Roy had followed.

"But perhaps Old Sam can tell us," Mr. Russman said, hopefully.

Their hopes, however, were doomed to disappointment. Sam was at home. He told of the visit of Adolph and Harry and described the plan of procedure he had mapped out for them. He had told the two young men to come back if they were unsuccessful, and then new plans would be made.

"Well, we will start from your cabin, and make a general search until my son and Harry come back," said the scientist. "We may come upon Roy unexpectedly."

The search was taken up, but at noon had brought no results. Sam himself had gone off on a little-used trail. He said he would search along that, and also take word to some fellow-guides.

Our friends ate the lunch they had brought with them, and, after a rest, started forth again. But as the afternoon shadows lengthened, and their shouts and cries, as well as their close scrutiny, had resulted in nothing, discouragement again held them all in its fearsome grip.

"We had better go no farther," Professor Russman said at length, as he noted how near the sun was to setting. "We had better go back."

"And give up?" asked Rose.

"Only for the night. Unacquainted with the woods as we are, we might become lost ourselves, and that would be bad. We must go back, and leave what night-searching can be done to the guides and canoemen."

With heavy hearts they retraced their steps to Old Sam's cabin. They found Adolph and Harry waiting for them. It was the first time Sylvia and her friends had seen Roy's companion since the two had come to the mountains. There was a meeting that was as happy as possible under the circumstances. Harry told more details of Roy's case.

"He was on the road to recovery when this happened," he said, sadly. "Perhaps if I had not allowed him to make this trip----"

"It wasn't your fault at all!" interrupted Sylvia, quickly. "We must think now of what to do next."

"Send out a general alarm, I should say," broke in Professor Russman.

"I think so," agreed his son, and Harry nodded his acquiescence.

"It's the only thing left," declared Old Sam. "I'll spread the word," and taking down a conch horn from his cabin wall he blew a deep mellow blast, that echoed and echoed again through the forest.