A Ticket to Adventure / A Mystery Story for Girls
eep, then half-awake murmured dreamily: "A tick
nd had come to her in her sleep, she s
rmured. "Everythi
ept was hard, a mattress on the dock. About her
ska. "Not far now, only a short way by rail. And then-" A thrill ran through her being. They were t
ed beauty of France were not new to her. But Alaska! How she had thrilled at thought of it! She was thinking of all this when, of
strange thing. Sitting bolt upright
with a sigh, she murmured, "Oh! All right. Some other time." At tha
ig girl thought. "Dreaming of
stinct now. "A child crying in the
eping back among the blankets. "It can't be any
the children. Little wonder, for they had that day-hundreds of men, women and children-disembark
are, groceries, shoes, hammers, saws, and clothespins on the dock at Anchorage. Men dashed about searching for tents and baggage. Women sought out los
spread their blankets, they had stretched out on the rough surface of the dock to sle
isten once more, this time more closely. "A strange sort of c
ay across America, then along the coast
me and if possible, a modest fortune. Would they win? With God's help, could they? And was true adventure to be thrown in for good measure? The girl
lled, the cry of a child in the night. Florence dearly lo
get out and hunt h
armth of the blankets, slipped on knickers and
discovered two blanket-wrapped figures. Girls they were, one small, on
asked, striving to keep h
slow, deep tone. "White man dog. Strange
all came by steamboat. There are
st a trembling hand
bad. Not very deep, but dog bites are
water from a thermos bottle into a basin, s
tell her. Tell her it will hurt." She spoke to the older girl, who said some words in her own language to the attentive child. When she had finished, Florence re
tched the child's face. A single tear crept fro
r the moment. Florence knew that. Yet
he North. It is with this spirit that we all must face the trials and dangers that li
tanding erect, hands clenched tight, she sto
e asked, dropping aga
hild
l bind it up tight a
r older sister's side. Her pain gone, her cry stilled, she had f
e felt the slender arms of Mary, her cousin, close about her a
ence told herself. Then, out of sympathy
cold. Yet Florence thrilled at thought of it all. That journey, how it
Country of Michigan. Because she had few relatives and
was no work and, struggle as they mi
was to send two hundred or more families to the rich Matamuska Valley in Alaska. T
orence, who was of true pioneer stock, young, sturd
, and here they were at the seaport of the railr
ly to herself. "Tomorrow, to-"
of tents. Yet, city of tents as it was, it did not lack signs of excitement. This was the great day. On this day the future home owners of this rich valley, surrounded by its snow-capped mountains, were to draw lots for their tracts of land. Some tracts were close to Palmer, some ten or twelve miles away. A few s
g time of waiting in line, Mark approache
heart pause, then go leaping. It meant so much, so ve
ark cupped his hand, then together they
ered tensely. "Here-here is our map. Whe
of disappointment. "Seven miles from tow
ose right in the middle of it waiting to be made into hamburger. But then,"
, a huge man from the western plains, had drawn a tract of land only a half mile from town. He had no cow. The Hughes family o
cried. "Right in t
possession, old Boss. Cows were dear-milk was hardly to be had at any price. "And yet-" she sighed. Long tramps through the deep snow, with a w
der of the two Indian girls Florence had seen and aided back there at the dock in Anchorage. Now the gi
rence whis
girl repeated. "Bye and by
slow, steady, thoughtful, dependable. F
here was a look of uncerta
l," Ramsey McGregor growl
his brow. "What do you say?" he
y," was Florence'
ary swallowed hard. She h
Life had pushed her about so long she was quite willing to
After all, the claim we got is the claim we drew. Looks like G
ed. And so the matter was settled. Somewhere o
se were hitched, not to a sled, for there was no snow, but to a narrow three-wheeled cart equipped with auto wheels. Whence had come those auto
t-scented, low-growing fir and spruce, now watched the pale green and white of quaking asp, and now went rolling over a l
r passing through a wide stretch of timber, t
A lake!" Mary exclai
standing ajar, seemed to say, "Nobody's home. Nobody's been home for many a day." For all that, the gray cabin, built of great, seasoned lo
nt later they stepped in awed silenc
n the corner, a rusted frying pan and a kettle, that was about all. Yet, strangely enough, as Florence tiptoed across the threshold she found hersel
thed deeply. Th
ght, for all they could tell, be waiting. At the
orence bre
" Mary
ey tiptoed out i
she said, spreading her arms wide to take in the ca
s what?" Ma
ed the girl,
e exclaimed.
he girl smiled a happy smile.
ours! And to think, we nearly missed it!" Then, quite wild with joy, she surpris
ded from the edge of the clearing a loud: "Get up! Go 'long there!" and a
cart, shouted, "Whoa, January!" to his shaggy horse,
hem new settlers?
kers had grown for months all untrimmed and whose hair fell to his shoulder
" he asked. Again
maybe-and then again maybe not. There's the clea
ple who once lived here. It's a notion of mine, th
the ones that lived in this cabin. Came here durin' the war. Lot of queer ones in th
rd the cabin. "Big woman. Hard work
Spies, maybe. Government boat at Anchorage just
ce shu
on. "Might come back-Chica
claim the cabin?" Florence was t
e valley, lots of 'em. Folks got discouraged and quit. Raise plenty of things to eat. Can't sell a th
cking to his horse. "Live back there
man gave his shaggy horse a light tap with th
the Indian girl, n
is name?" Florence
irl n
"And did he pick a p
t her until they all bur
ted. Raise anything. Can't sell anything. No market-you want things that don't grow on the ground." Her world seemed to have take
ought at last. "Perhaps that ma