His accent might be English. At any rate
it's better than ours. Nobody on the mountain knows anything about them.
An old Indian brought them to the cabin when Phoebe was a baby and took
care of them both for several years. The people call the man 'Frenchy,'
why I'm sure I can't imagine, perhaps because he seems foreign. He does
really beautiful wood carving and basket weaving and he seemed quite
pleased over getting orders from us. We all of us want to do something
for Phoebe but she is not the kind you can approach easily. I would not
dare even offer her a pair of shoes, and she's generally barefooted.
Cousin Helen thought perhaps she might like to work for us, but I would
as soon think of asking our dear cousin herself. I'm the best coffee
maker in the compound and I've learned by the cookbook how to poach
eggs, after breaking six to get the hang of it. Dr. Hume knows a Scotch
dish that's a dream and so easy to make. Nancy and I are going to give
them a surprise. It's 'Mock Duck,' made of beefsteak stuffed with many
things, and then rolled up like a mummy and tied with strings. We shall
roast it over hot embers on a spit Ben has rigged up, with a thing he
calls a 'gutter' to catch the juices. Good-by, dearest Papa. Don't
forget the strong, fearless girl.

Your devoted daughter,
Billie."

In due time a telegram was telephoned from the railroad station to the
nearest hotel and from thence to the postoffice in the village at the
foot of Sunrise Mountain. Here it was written down on a scrap of paper
and in the course of events reached Billie Campbell. It said:

"Meet Alberdina, fearless Swiss-German. 4.30 train Saturday. Father."

Ben brought the message with the evening mail Friday afternoon while
Nancy and Billie, much heated and excited, were in the act of cooking
the mock duck.

"What are you roasting? An Indian papoose?" he demanded, after they had
laughed over the name of the new, fearless maid.

The spurious fowl made of a large flat piece of meat stuffed out to
plump proportions and tied at each end did resemble a fat little Indian
baby.

"Don't worry us," exclaimed Nancy. "We have enough to bother us now. The
potatoes are taking forever to cook and the beans are almost done."

"The onions are just as bad," put in Billie.

"Why don't you put the onions and potatoes in the same pot with the
beans? Maybe it will bring