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Aldridge, Janet

"The Missing Pilot of the White Mountains"


"Yes, some girls. That's what I meant--you girls in particular. It's
a pity all girls don't slant in the same direction. Miss Thompson, if
you will pick out some stones for the stove I will rustle the wood.
No, not that way. I swum! You'll be down the Slide if I don't watch
you."
"The Slide!" exclaimed the girls, turning eagerly to the guide.
"Yes. We're at it now. Where'd you think we were?"
"O, where is it?" questioned Harriet eagerly.
"Come here, I'll show you. Everybody that's able to walk come here, so
you'll know where it is, then there won't be any excuse for your
walking into it in the dark. There!"
All they could see was a slight depression in the rocks. It was
several feet wide, very steep and so smooth that its polished surface
reflected the light from the match that the guide lighted.
Harriet tossed a stone over on the smooth surface. They heard it
sliding and rattling down, terminating in a faint splash.
"My goodness! Is there water down there?" exclaimed Crazy Jane.
"Yes, a pond or a pool, whatever you wish to call it. I was telling
you about the Indians who used to take the Slide here.


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