CHAPTER 9 Unwelcome Visitors
“WHY, what did we say that offended Mrs. Myles?” Connie demanded as she and Veve started toward the road.
“Nothing that I know of,” replied the other little girl. “We were talking about going to the tree house tomorrow.”
“And having Mr. Vincent there for lunch,” reflected Connie. “Do you suppose she was offended because we didn’t invite her?”
“I think it was mention of Sam Vincent’s name that made her so angry, Connie. Her eyes snapped like firebrands. And don’t you remember, she started to say she could give the Brownie Scouts some advice about having nothing to do with him—”
“Only she broke off and closed the door on us.”
“It was mention of Mr. Vincent’s name that annoyed her,” Veve said with conviction. “For some reason she must dislike him. I wonder why?”
“He seemed very nice,” Connie answered thoughtfully. “Of course, we don’t know him well. Maybe we should have become better acquainted before inviting him to lunch.”
“Well, he may not come,” Veve returned, almost hopefully.
The following day dawned bright, although not particularly warm. Directly after breakfast Miss Gordon telephoned each member of the Brownie Scout troop to say that the hike would be held. Each girl was given a list of items to bring.
“Mr. Vincent may not take Veve’s luncheon seriously,” the teacher declared. “Our motto though is to be prepared. So, if he does come, we’ll have a little food for him.”
By ten o’clock the Brownies had arrived at the park. Carrying their well-filled knapsacks, they paused for a moment at the gate house. Mr. Karwhite, however, was not there.
In fact, the entire park area appeared deserted.
“We’re the only ones here so early in the day,” declared Sunny, covering a yawn. “I’ll bet a frosted cookie Mr. Vincent never shows up.”
“He has plenty of time to get here before noon,” Connie assured her. “What are we having to eat?”
She had brought sandwiches, but did not know what the other girls had been asked to contribute.
“Were having a hot drink from the thermos jug,” replied Miss Gordon. “We have cake too and a salad. I planned the menu when the weather was warmer.”
“A hot meal would taste better today,” declared Jane. “I wish we had decided to cook it in one of the park fireplaces. In that case though, we couldn’t serve Mr. Vincent lunch in our tree house.”
On their way to the giant oak, the girls walked a short distance on Trail No. 3. Immediately they noticed that during their absence from the park, workmen had placed correct identification tags on each tree.
“It’s a relief to know that we weren’t as confused as we thought that other day,” laughed Miss Gordon. “After reading those mixed-up tags I began to wonder if ever again I could tell one tree from another!”
The teacher called attention to a handsome white ash, whose leaves mostly had been swept away by the wind.
“The tree is very regular in shape,” she pointed out. “Notice that the wide-spreading branches stand opposite each other.”
“What’s that tree next to it?” inquired Rosemary.
“A horse-chestnut, I believe,” returned Miss Gordon. “In summer, or rather, early in May, tall white flowers appear upright on all the branches.”
“Like a tree with thousands of white candles!” declared Connie, who frequently had noticed the sight.
Miss Gordon went on to explain that after the flowers of the horse-chestnut tree fell, prickly burrs formed. Inside were large brown nuts.
“Are they good to eat?” Sunny inquired.
“No, the nuts are quite bitter,” the teacher replied. “I should advise you not to sample any of them.”
Eileen made a pencil sketch of the tree for her nature notebook. Then, aware that time was elapsing, the girls hiked on toward the tree house.
“What time is it now?” inquired Veve anxiously.
“Fifteen minutes after eleven,” Miss Gordon said, looking at her watch. “We’ll have just time enough to set the luncheon table.”
“I’m sure Mr. Vincent won’t come,” Jane said pessimistically. “He only said he would to be polite.”
“Well, if he fails to show, we’ll have more food for ourselves,” laughed Rosemary. “I wish though, that we were having a hot meal.”
The cool air and the long hike had given all the girls hearty appetites. To wait very long for their invited guest might be rather trying, they thought. But having extended the invitation, politeness required that they postpone their own meal for at least twenty minutes past the noon hour.
The girls had reached the base of the oak tree. Veve stared at a cluster of footprints plainly visible in the soft earth.
“Say, someone has been here while we were away!” she exclaimed indignantly.
Miss Gordon reminded the girls that the park was for the use of everyone.
“We can’t prevent people from visiting our tree house,” she said. “Naturally, it will attract attention.”
“We could keep people out if we had a lock on the door,” Veve replied.
“Let’s wish for a lock!” proposed Connie, half in jest. “We’ve had luck with our other wishes. Maybe we can get one!”
The girls were disturbed to observe that the trail of footprints led up the steps to the tree house balcony. Thick, half dry mud had caked heavily on the unpainted boards.
“Someone’s been here, all right, since the rain,” Veve announced with disapproval.
“Mr. Karwhite, probably,” Eileen returned carelessly.
With Veve and Connie, she started up the steps. Miss Gordon and the other girls waited below. Although the stairway was sturdily built, the teacher never allowed more than three persons to ascend or descend at one time.
Reaching the balcony, Connie put down her package of dishes to open the door.
The recent rain had warped it a trifle. She had to shove hard to force it backward.
“This old door’s stuck!” she complained.
As she spoke, it suddenly swung open. Caught off balance, Connie stumbled forward into the room.
Behind her, Veve and Eileen uttered shrieks of dismay and anger.
Not only was the floor covered with mud, but dishes had been removed from the shelves. Furniture had been overturned. Everything was a shambles!
“Our tree house!” wailed Veve in a voice which carried to those waiting below. “It’s ruined!”
