Sydney and the Wisconsin Whispering Woods (3 page)

“Beats me,” said Sydney. “I think maybe he’s camping in the woods or something. His clothes looked dirty and worn, and did you notice the bedroll?”

“I did,” Alexis answered. “And the frying pan, too. Obviously, he’s a camper. I’m just glad we saw a person out there instead of a big grizzly bear. A camper guy I can handle, but not a bear that wants to make a snack out of my arms or legs.”

Sydney laughed. “Oh Alex, what’s gotten into you? You’re usually so positive.”

“Not when it comes to bears,” Alex said. “Unless, of course, they’re in a zoo. Then I think they’re cute and cuddly.”

Sydney rolled onto her side and adjusted the pillow under her head. “Well, I feel safe here with the window shut and the doors to the cabin locked. Tomorrow we can look for evidence and maybe find out what our mountain man was up to. Goodnight, Alex.”

“Goodnight, Syd,” Alexis said. “And by the way, Wisconsin doesn’t have any mountains.”

“I know,” Sydney said, sleepily. “But still, he looked like a mountain man.”

In the morning, the girls awoke to the sound of sausages sizzling in a frying pan. Aunt Dee was in the kitchen making a big country-style breakfast. She was already dressed in her park ranger uniform, and when the girls came to the kitchen table still in their pj’s, she scooped scrambled eggs onto their plates. “Help yourselves to some pancakes,” she said. “The sausages are almost ready. I was just about to come in and wake you guys up.”

Sydney yawned and put several pancakes on her plate. “Thanks for making breakfast, Aunt Dee,” she said. “I’m hungry enough to eat a bear.” She looked at Alexis and grinned.

“I’m not
that
hungry,” Alexis said. “But I am hungry enough to eat pancakes. Thanks, Miss Powers. This is great.”

Aunt Dee carried the frying pan to the table and put two sausages on each of their plates. “You’re welcome,” she said. “You can make supper tonight.”

She set the frying pan in the sink and sat down at the table. Before they ate, they thanked God for their food.

“So, did you sleep well?” Aunt Dee asked.

“Sort of,” Alexis answered.

“Me, too, sort of,” Sydney added. “I dreamed about that guy we saw. Why are the drapes all shut?”

“I haven’t had time to open them yet,” Aunt Dee told her. “As soon as I woke up, I dressed and started breakfast. I have to leave in a few minutes for my interview.”

Sydney got up and walked into the small living room. She pulled the cord that opened the drapes on the big picture window. Bright sunlight flooded the room.

Beyond the screened porch, Sydney saw a grassy front yard. It led down a gentle slope to the lake, which was only a short distance from the cabin’s front door. A very narrow strip of sandy beach stretched along the water’s edge, and an aluminum rowboat lay there upside down. The water glistened in the sunlight, and a pair of ducks floated on the surface near a long, wooden dock.

“This is cool!” Sydney said. “We’re closer to the water than I thought.” She went back to the table and continued eating her breakfast.

“I’m sure you’ll find plenty to do,” Aunt Dee said. “The resort brochure tells about swimming, fishing, and rowing. A small grocery store is within walking distance—and also an ice cream and coffee shop with video games and Internet access.”

“Great!” said Alexis. “Then we can e-mail our friends.” Sydney knew that Alexis referred to the other Camp Club Girls—Bailey Chang, Kate Oliver, Elizabeth Anderson, and McKenzie Phillips. Kate, the technological one, had set up a Web page with a chat room. When they weren’t at camp and since they lived in different parts of the country, it was like their own private cabin in cyberspace.

“We’ll e-mail them later,” Sydney said. “We can tell them about the mountain man.”

“And almost hitting a deer, and the skunk, and the coyote,” said Alexis, before taking the last bite of her scrambled eggs.

“Maybe we should leave out the wild animals part,” Sydney suggested between sips of orange juice from a red plastic cup. “Kate might worry about Biscuit.”

“You’re right,” said Alexis. “We’ll leave that part out.” She reached down to pat Biscuit on his head. He sat patiently at her feet, apparently hoping she would give him a bite of sausage.

Aunt Dee gathered her purse and briefcase. She nestled her tan ranger’s hat on her head and picked up her car keys. “If you need me, you know my cell phone number. And you girls stay out of trouble today,” she said. “Okay?”

“Who, us? Get into trouble?” Sydney smiled.

“Listen, girlfriend,” said Aunt Dee. “I haven’t forgotten that you and Elizabeth got mixed up in an assassination plot to kill the president. I still have gray hairs from that little adventure.”

She meant the time when Sydney and Elizabeth followed some thugs who planned to set off a bomb at Fort McHenry. Sydney saved the president’s life when she grabbed the bomb and dumped it into Baltimore Harbor. An event they’d dubbed
Sydney’s DC Discovery
.

“We’ll be fine,” Sydney promised.

Aunt Dee waved and went out the door.

The girls cleaned the table, washed the dishes, and made sure Biscuit had food and water.

“So, what do you want to do now?” Alexis asked after they got dressed.

“I don’t know,” said Sydney. “Let’s go outside.”

They put Biscuit on the big, screened porch. Then Sydney locked the door and stuck the key in the pocket of her gray sweatpants. “Let’s see if the mountain man left us any clues.”

The other visitors weren’t up yet, and the lake was quiet. Chipmunks scampered about looking for scraps of food, seeds, and other treats. Birds scurried from the ground to the trees, feeding their babies in well-hidden nests. The girls walked to the picnic table where they’d seen the man the night before. The rickety old table held nothing more than a small pile of peanuts, obviously left by some well-meaning guest who wanted to feed the animals.

“Maybe that’s what he was doing,” Sydney said. “Leaving food for the critters.”

She tossed a peanut on the ground. Instantly a chipmunk skittered over and popped the whole thing into its cheek. Alexis tossed another one. The girls took turns tossing peanuts until the whole pile was gone.

“I don’t like the idea of someone putting food out at night,” said Alexis. “It might attract bears.” She sat down on the picnic bench. “Ouch!” She jumped up, rubbing her behind.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sydney.

“I sat on something sharp.” Alexis checked out the spot where she’d sat. “Hey, look. What are these things?”

Three tiny bunches of brightly colored feathers lay on the ground. Each bunch was gathered tightly at the bottom with a small, sharp hook tucked inside.

“Fishing flies,” said Sydney.

“Fishing what?”

“They’re fishing flies,” Sydney said. She picked one up and held it in her hand. “When you go fishing, you put one of these on the end of your line. When the little fishies see the colorful feathers swimming under the water, they bite. That’s how you catch a fish.”

“How do you know this stuff?” Alexis asked.

“My aunt’s a park ranger,” Sydney said. “I’ve been fishing lots of times.”

“Hey! What are you doing with my fly?” A short, skinny, redheaded boy marched over to the picnic table. “Give it to me.” He held out his hand.

Gently, Sydney placed the fly in the palm of his hand. She pointed to the others on the ground. “There’s more,” she said.

The boy bent and picked them up.

Sydney decided he was about the same age as she and Alexis. “Are you staying here?” Sydney asked. “We just got in last night, and we’re in Cabin One. I’m Sydney, and this is Alex.”

The boy scowled. “We’re in Cabin Two. I need these for the fishing contest. Alex? What kind of name is that for a girl?”

“It’s short for Alexis,” Alex told him. She already sensed trouble. Nothing about this boy was friendly.

“And what’s your name?” Sydney asked.

“Duncan,” he answered sharply.

“So what about this fishing contest, Duncan?” Sydney wondered.

“What about it?” Duncan checked the flies to make sure they weren’t broken.

“You said something about a fishing contest,” Sydney said. “I always like a good contest, and maybe I want to sign up.”

“You can’t. Girls don’t fish,” Duncan said matter-of-factly.

Sydney got that expression on her face, the one Alexis recognized as determination. No one, absolutely no one, ever told Sydney Lincoln that she couldn’t compete. She lived for competition.

“Oh yes, girls
do
fish!” Sydney told him. “Where do I sign up?”

Duncan looked at her. The corner of his mouth turned up in a sly smile. Then he shook his head back and forth, uttered a wicked little laugh, and walked away.

“Ooooo!” Sydney said under her breath. “I don’t like him.
Girls can’t fish!
Who does he think he is? I’m going to find out where to sign up for that contest, and you just watch. I’m going to win that contest if it’s the last thing I do!” She sighed with exasperation.

“ ‘A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger,’ “ said Alexis. “It’s in the Bible. Proverbs 15:1.”

“You sound like Elizabeth,” said Sydney. Elizabeth knew an amazing amount of scriptures. “But I’m not angry,” Sydney continued. “I’m just frustrated because he thinks girls can’t fish, or shouldn’t fish, or whatever. Let’s go to the office and find out where to sign up.” She headed toward the cabins.

“Hey,” said Alexis. “What’s this?” She picked up a paperback book from the grass:
Field Guide to Mushrooms
.

“Keep it,” Sydney said. “It might belong to the mountain man.”

“And look,” Alexis said. “The bottom of the rowboat is covered in wet seaweed, and the squishy mud has big footprints in it. And what are these things?” She pointed to pieces of brown, slimy fungus at the edge of the beach.

“I dunno. We’ll check it out later,” said Sydney. “Right now, my mind’s on that contest.”

Mrs. Miller sat behind the registration desk drinking a cup of coffee. “Good morning, girls,” she said when Sydney and Alexis entered the office. “You’re up bright and early.”

“Hi,” said Sydney. “I have a question. Where do I sign up for the fishing contest?”

“Which one?” Mrs. Miller asked. She opened a bakery box filled with donuts and offered them to the girls.

“No thanks,” Sydney said as Alexis grabbed a crème-filled, chocolate-covered long boy. “There’s more than one contest?”

Alexis kept busy studying a map of the lake hanging on the wall.

“There’s always fishing contests on North Twin Lake,” said Mrs. Miller. “Here’s a list of our current ones.” She handed Sydney a flyer.

“The kid in Cabin Two, Duncan,” said Sydney. “Which contest did he sign up for?”

“He probably signed up for the dockside contest,” Mrs. Miller answered. “Children under 13 can only compete in offshore if they’re with an adult.”

Alexis walked to the desk and helped herself to another chocolate-covered donut.

“Okay, I want to sign up for dockside,” said Sydney. “And Alexis does, too.”

“I do?” said Alex, licking chocolate frosting from her fingers.

Mrs. Miller smiled. “Not a fisherman, are you?” she asked. “I’ve fished a little,” said Alexis, “but I’ve never fished in a contest.”

“Well, you girls go up there to the end of the drive. Then you turn left and walk down the road a bit. You’ll see Tompkins’ Ice Cream Shop. Go inside there, and that’s where you sign up. You sure you don’t want a donut?” Mrs. Miller slid the box toward Sydney.