The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong Part 20

"It may be a masquerade," hinted Louise in an undertone. "Perhaps we have only seen the first act."

Their costumes might indeed have answered for a mask, they were so ridiculously extreme. The most brilliant striped satins that suggested clown effects, flowing sashes of colors by no means contrasting, then the hair dressing: such ear puffs, terracing up to a tower on top, "like the jumps to the Essveay fire-escape," whispered Cleo. Really it was no wonder Buzz and Fuss were late if they had to build that effect all at one sitting.

The young men with them matched up fairly well, considering the handicap young men must dress under; but their flannels and their patent leather shoes, topped off with purple socks and vivid neckties, did all that reasonably could be done to liven up the male attire.

Not a detail was lost on a Bobbie. They sat there fascinated, saving up their laughs for the wild time they would have going back to camp.

The dancers drifted around and the conspicuous ones came close to the row of Girl Scouts. As they did so the blondest blonde caught sight of Grace and recognized her.

"Oh, the babes!" she cooed, loud enough to be overheard. "The Bobbie babes from the woodsy camp."

This was too much for the Scouts, and only a sudden jumping up to the answer of the beckoning gesture from Miss Mackin, who was waiting for the home hike, saved an actual upheaval. As it was, Grace gagged and squawked audibly, Cleo hummed a foolish tune as she always did to invoke sorrow, Louise danced a few steps automatically, and by that time the buzzers had buzzed along.

But not finally. At the door the Bobbies stood for a few minutes throwing on scarfs and capes, and while they did so along came the unpleasant ones again. Miss Mackin's attention had been drawn to them by Corene, and she stepped out and stood squarely in front of her little charges like a s.h.i.+eld. But that att.i.tude had no deterring effect on the intruders.

"How's every little thing over in Camp Comalong?" asked one in a voice that attracted unpleasant attention.

No one answered; Miss Mackin s.h.i.+fted her shoulders and sort of urged the girls outside. The Norms were just beyond the door, waiting on the porch.

A taunting, high pitched, audacious laugh followed.

"Take the babies home and put them to bed," mocked one of the pair.

"Too late for little Bobbokins to be out."

"Of all the rude creatures!" gasped Miss Mackin. "One would think we were acquainted with them."

"They think we are," retorted Corene, quite as indignant as the director. "But I guess everyone else knows them, so perhaps their remarks will not seem--so strange to others."

"They ought not to be allowed to insult guests that way," stormed Louise. Even her "canned laugh" was lost track of now.

"Did you see those two freaks?" asked Bubbles Norm when the party united on the porch.

"And did you hear them?" added Miss Mackin.

"They are the two blandest creatures," went on Bubbles. "But I believe their daddy is supposed to be some pumpkins, a magnate of some kind or other."

"Pity he doesn't put his daughters in the trust, then," retorted Cleo.

"They need something; maybe it's that."

CHAPTER XV

A PADDLE, A SWIM AND A SUN DIAL

Getting the mail for Camp Comalong was one of the duties that brought joy to the Scouts, for each morning, tent obligations attended to and before the hike, swim or other scheduled activity was entered upon, a group of the girls either rowed in Mud Lark, the boat loaned them by an admiring neighbor, or they paddled off in their bright red canoe, the Flash, down the lake to the Post Office Bend, there to receive their allotment from Uncle Sam's mailing service.

Usually those girls whose duty it was to raise and lower the colors--when the beautiful flag contributed by Grace's family would be raised to breeze at morning and lowered into loving hands at sundown--this squad also took care of the mail, on their flag week.

So it happened that to-day Julia and Grace were due to paddle down stream for the mail.

"I think," began Julia in her meditative way, for Julia was something of a literary aspirant, "that we have very vigorous weather in a place like this. When it storms it storms furiously, and when it's lovely it's just perfect, as it is to-day."

"Uh--huh!" a.s.sented Grace, waving frantically at a canoe across the lake in which she recognized a brace of sweaters--one orange, the other jade--worn respectively by Camille and Cynthia, without a doubt.

"Grace, I don't believe you notice the weather very closely," came back Julia, disappointed that her discourse should fall upon deaf ears.

"'Deed I does, honey. I noticed it plenty the other night, and am not keen on another spell like that. But when we have really good weather I don't believe in tempting it or spoiling it with flattery. You can't tell about such things, Julie dear."

The blonde girl laughed merrily. Who could resist Grace and her unanswerable arguments?

There was a satisfying amount of mail to take back to camp, and among the letters was one addressed to Grace and postmarked "Town."

"A new friend," remarked Julia, handing this over to Grace, "or perhaps an invitation to a picnic."

"No; it's from Peg," returned her companion, already scanning the paper in her hand. Her brows were drawn into a serious line and her full red lips puckered as she scrutinized the page.

"Anything wrong?" Julia asked.

"Not wrong, but--here read it----" Grace handed over the letter, and her companion read the lines.

"Well, that's all right," said Julia, glancing up. They were seated in the canoe and delaying to read their personal mail. "If she doesn't want any companions I don't see why we should force ourselves upon her."

"But don't you see, Jule, she says she does appreciate our friends.h.i.+p, but that just now she is not free to follow her own pleasure? Can't you easily see that the girl is worried about something and afraid to even have friends?"

"Yet, Gracie, why should we intrude?"

"Because if ever a girl needed friends she does, and I need not remind you of our Scout pledge," replied Grace. "I don't usually look for trouble, Bobbs, but I think I see it in that page, and I would like to help Peg to some little bit of summer happiness. You know how much attention we give to making city children happy at Christmas; and here is a girl all alone in a mountain cabin, with no playmates except s.h.a.g and her pony Whirlwind, and she says plainly how much she enjoyed our campfire on that one, stingy little night. Now Julie, I couldn't let her slip out of our entire summer with one campfire and a chocolate cake."

This was so entirely "Gracious" that Julia laughed outright.

"All right, Buddie; just tell me what to do and I'll help you any way I can. I believe you are right, of course. Anyone can see that Peg is tugging away with some sort of claim holding her down. Do you think there can be anyone ill, or perhaps sick mentally and hidden in her cabin?"

"Oh, no, I never thought of that. You mean an insane person?"

"They might not be really insane, but you know when a person's mind becomes unbalanced their folks always hate to have them sent away from home," explained Julia.

"I don't believe that's it. But there is some sort of mystery there.

The thing that I resent most is the mean remarks those snippy girls make about her. I just can't stand it, to hear two such silly things as those Buzzys, say such slurring things about a girl who never seems to trouble anyone, or in any way invite criticism."

"Yes, it is cowardly. But what can you expect of that type? Didn't they try hard enough to get us into a dispute the other night?"

"Yes, and I think Mackey was very calm not to say something back to them."

"That would really have attracted attention. She was wise to ignore them," declared Julia. "Well, let's bring the girls their mail and don't worry about Peg. I can't imagine there is anything seriously wrong, and, perhaps, if we just agree with her suggestion something will happen to explain it all."