Blue Grass Seminary Girls' Vacation Adventures Page 3

  CHAPTER III.--THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY.

  Shirley Willing was a typical product of the little town of Paris,Bourbon County, Kentucky; and at the time this story opens had justpassed her fifteenth year. She was the one child of Christopher Willing,a prosperous farmer and horseman, who owned an extensive place on theBethlehem pike some three or four miles from the little city.

  Being an only daughter, she was naturally somewhat spoiled, although sheand her father would have resented such an implication. Nevertheless,spoiled she was, as all were aware except these two. Shirley was slightand slender, with a wealth of auburn hair and cheeks like roses. All herlife she had been athletically inclined, and for the past twoyears--ever since she had been attending the Blue Grass Seminary--shehad indulged in outdoor sports continually.

  The Blue Grass Seminary was one of those schools in which the chiefobject was to produce not only cultured and educated young women, butphysically perfect ones as well. While the course of study was on a parwith all first-class schools, the management did not believe that thestudents should spend all their time over their books.

  "Give the girls a practical education," was the theory of the principal,and both he and his assistants endeavored in every way to enable thegirls under their care to practice in the open the theories taught inthe schoolroom.

  Much time was also devoted to athletics in the Blue Grass Seminary, butthere were no hard and fast rules as to what branch of athletics eachpupil should take up. Shirley Willing's great hobby and chief diversionwas horseback riding. She was an expert horse-woman at fifteen and couldride anything, as she had proved more than once.

  Besides having a well-kept farm, Mr. Willing also owned a good "string"of blooded race horses, and there was no novelty in one of them beingwinner in many exciting races. It was this kind of horse that Shirleymost enjoyed riding.

  Shirley's particular chum and bosom friend was Mabel Ashton, likewisethe daughter of a prosperous Kentuckian. Colonel Ashton was easily themost prominent man in many respects in Bourbon County. Mabel, who was afew months older than Shirley, was equally well known among the youngerset. The girls had been friends almost since they were babies, which wasonly natural because of the close relationship between their families.

  Another bond of sympathy between the girls was that both had lost theirmothers when a few months old.

  When Shirley made up her mind that she would attend the Blue GrassSeminary--located in a neighboring town some twenty miles away--therewas nothing more natural than that Mabel should decide to go also. Atfirst their fathers both opposed the plan, but after Mr. Willing andColonel Ashton had spent a day at the Seminary and had seen what anexcellent school it was, they were quite willing to let the girlsattend.

  At the Seminary the girls had been roommates. Their closest friend wasLois Geddis, the daughter of an Illinois farmer. Several times she hadgone home with Shirley to spend Sunday and had likewise spent herChristmas vacation in Paris, upon the promise that the two girls shouldvisit her during the summer. Thus it was that we find these three BlueGrass Seminary girls in such close proximity to the great Father ofWaters.

  The Kentucky girls had been visiting in Illinois some two weeks whenthis story opens, and it was now the latter part of June. They had onlyintended to remain a week, but they had been having such a good timethat they had overstayed the stated period. Finally they had selected adate upon which they should return and in spite of all influence thatcould be brought to bear, they were not to be shaken in their purpose.

  Then the flood came.

  To account for Mabel's presence in the little house in which Shirley isnow sleeping, it is necessary to go back a little in our story.

  It was about the time that the girls had set a date to go home thatheavy rains set in. The summer had been dry so far and the rain was verywelcome. But for days, now, the downpour had continued without any signof abating. From further up the river news was received of still heavierrain, and these added to the regular June rise from the Missouri causedthe Mississippi at Cairo to spread until it threatened to leave itsbank.

  A short distance above the home of Mr. Geddis, where the girls werevisiting, was a small tributary of the Mississippi on which was built agreat dam, forming an immense reservoir. This was known as the Darretdam. At this point also, the river broadened into what seemed almost asmall bay in which the water was very deep, so that the volume back ofthe dam was something enormous.

  When it became apparent that there was to be no let-up in the steadyrains, and as the waters of the Mississippi continued to rise, Mr.Geddis, as well as other farmers in the vicinity, moved all theirlivestock and household effects to higher ground that they might be safeshould the dam give way; for it was a well-known fact that if the damburst, the valley would be flooded and everything carried away.

  Guards were posted near the dam to give the warning, should it threatento burst. Vigil was kept day and night, while the residents of thecountryside were prepared to flee at the first warning of imminentdisaster.

  But the dam had finally burst so suddenly that the warning came almosttoo late. Shirley, Mabel, Lois, her father and mother were at supperwhen the telephone jangled furiously. Lois, who was nearest, quickly putthe receiver to her ear, and then turned to the others with a cry:

  "The dam is gone!"

  Then it was that those in the farmhouse attempted to repeat the warningdown the valley, and it was discovered that the wires were down. As hasbeen told, it was then that Shirley made her wild dash, that might haveresulted fatally.

  When Shirley had disappeared, the others, after seeking in vain for her,had finally given it up as hopeless.

  "She is probably safe some place," said Mr. Geddis. "Come, we musthurry."

  They started for the highlands, which they reached safely, and fromthere watched the mountains of water as they swept down, flooding thevalley.

  "I believe I know what has happened to Shirley," said Mabel quietly.

  "What?" asked Lois, eagerly.

  "I believe she went down the valley to warn the people."

  Lois gave a startled cry.

  "She will be drowned!" she cried.

  "I'm not sure about that," said Mabel quietly. "You see, I know Shirleya little better than you do. If there is one way by which she can reachsafety, Shirley is sure to find it."

  "I do hope she will not be harmed," said Lois, beginning to cry.

  Refugees fled to the highlands in droves, leaving everything behind. Mr.Geddis and his party advanced, just on the edge of the high ground, downthe valley. Here they came upon others who had been forced to flee forsafety.

  "How did the warning reach you?" asked Mr. Geddis of one of the men.

  "Girl on horseback," was the reply. "She came dashing down the road likewind. If it hadn't been for her, hundreds would have perished."

  Mabel, who overheard this conversation, cried out in alarm:

  "Where is she?"

  "I don't know," was the reply. "She was headed straight for thevillage."

  Mabel seized Lois by the arm.

  "Come," she cried, "let's go farther. Perhaps we can find Shirley."

  With a word to her father, Lois followed her friend. They came, at last,to a part of the ground directly behind the little village of Stanley,now lying beneath the water. Here they plied the refugees with questionafter question, and finally came upon the man who had seen the girlwheel her horse and dash down the road after the Hendersons.

  "There is not one chance in a thousand that she escaped," he saidslowly; "nor the Hendersons, either, for that matter."

  The girls left him and continued on down the course of the raging water,for they believed that Shirley might possibly have reached safety inthat direction.

  It grew dusk, and still they walked on, scanning the nearby waters andthe ground closely. Night fell.

  "Well, we might as well go back," said Mabel quietly. "I am afraid weshall never see her again."

  "I know we won't," said Lois, and f
ell to weeping.

  "Come, come," said Mabel, throwing her arm about her friend's shoulders."Crying will do no good."

  "But--but," sobbed Lois, "if it hadn't been for me she would be alive."

  "How do you make that out?" asked Mabel, in some surprise.

  "Why, she would not have come to this part of the country."

  "Never mind," said Mabel. "Shirley wouldn't want you to feel badly aboutit. I know that."

  They turned and began to retrace their steps. It was then that Lois madea startling discovery. They had unconsciously walked further and furtheraway from the water's edge, in among a grove of trees.

  "We are lost!" cried Lois.

  "Lost!" echoed Mabel.

  "Yes. I don't know where we are. I have never been in these woodsbefore."

  "Oh, I guess we'll get out all right," said Mabel confidently.

  She moved forward, but in the darkness she had no means of tellingwhether she was going in the right direction. The girls walked quicklythis way and that, but they could find no exit from the grove of trees.

  Mabel raised her young voice in a cry for help, and Lois added hers toit.

  From the distance came a faint response.

  Encouraged, the girls renewed their efforts, and keeping it up, werefinally rewarded by the sounds of footsteps coming toward them. A momentlater the figure of a man appeared before them.

  "What on earth are you two girls doing here?" he asked in amazement.

  "We are lost," stammered Lois, beginning to cry again, now that she feltshe was safe once more.

  "Who are you?" asked the man.

  The girls told him.

  "And we want to get back to father," moaned Lois.

  "Well," said the man, "you can't get back to-night. You have comefarther than you realize. My name is Thompson, and I have a shacknearby. You shall both spend the night with us. Mrs. Thompson will makeyou at home."

  In spite of repeated requests by both girls that they be set on the roadhome and assurances that they were not afraid to go alone, Thompsonshook his head negatively.

  "You'll do as I say," he said. "I wouldn't allow a daughter of mine togo prowling through the woods at this time of night. Come with me."

  The girls were forced to obey, for they had no desire to be left in thewoods alone.

  Mrs. Thompson made the girls comfortable, and showed them a bed in aroom at the rear of the house, on the ground floor.

  It was while they were sitting talking, that they became aware ofclattering of hoofs. A moment later the door flew open and Shirleystaggered into the room. Both girls were on their feet in an instant.

  "Shirley!" they cried, and rushed forward.

  It was then that Shirley had fainted.