The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong Part 29

"Then where would we fellows come in? Two weeks before school----"

"Our schools don't open till later," explained Louise, "and you know, Benny, September is the most beautiful month to camp," she placated.

"Every month is good enough," insisted the boy, "but of course, if you've promised." He was evidently not fired with the same sort of philanthropy that inspired the girls.

"Come on, Benny, try our camp-made Johnny-cake," urged Louise. "Just think, we bake that right on top of that stone oven."

"I don't want to think of it," growled the real boy. "I know what we Boy Scouts could do with this outfit."

"Poor Ben," and Grace threw an arm around the brown-haired little fellow. "Never mind. I'm coming home and I'll make you as much fudge as every boy in your crowd will want to eat--at one sitting," she qualified.

He was finally induced to sample the Johnny-cake, but when he left there was a defiance in his manner, akin to recklessness.

"I don't care, anyhow," he prevaricated. "We're going to camp up on the hills next week," he flung back, jerking his wheel up in the air to start, as if it had been a pony with its bit too tight.

"A busy day approach--eth," warned Corene. "We must have our trial swim this morning, you know."

"Yes, and we have to go for the mail. It's my turn and yours, Weasy,"

said Cleo.

"And I've got to go around to all the cottages and give warning we are going to break camp, I suppose," said Julia. "I know the mothers will be glad to get the news, although they may not admit it."

"And I'm going to take a run up to Peg's and see if she is all right,"

declared Corene. "Maybe now that she won't go over the hills looking for that lost claim, she may take time to have a civilized swim with us."

"She may; but then again she may not," interposed Cleo. "Don't you remember she said there was something she was disappointed about not being finished?"

"Yes; we couldn't get all the story, there were so many interruptions," said Corene. "But wasn't she a wonderful girl to work so hard to follow out her father's ambitions?"

"Yes, like a big, strong boy, she has been going up those hills daily.

She didn't say just what she was looking for, did she?" asked Julia.

"Zinc mine, wasn't it?" suggested Louise.

"Something about ores," added Julia. "You know her Aunt Carrie said Mr. Ramsdell used to be a government geologist."

"Yes," agreed Louise, vaguely. Geology meant stones, they all knew, and as for the ores--well, it didn't seem to be gold and to the indifferent ones no other metal seemed to suggest sensational developments just then.

An hour later they were in the lake, trying out their contest stunts.

Corene did not succeed in inducing Peg to accompany them, as the excitement around the log cabin was still in evidence. Even the officer sort of "hung 'round," to "keep an eye on things," and when Corene made her flying trip up there she found Peg so busy that good sense forbade the Scout delaying her.

The swim over, next came the delivery of all those homemade messages.

Hither and thither scouted the Scouts, until lunch time was pointed out by the faithful little sun dial, and that was not a point to be overlooked.

Only two days remained now until the week would be closed. Then would come the excitement of breaking camp.

Miss Mackin had already notified headquarters of the Bobolinks'

determination, and to-day a visitor was expected to take inventory.

It was all delightfully thrilling. In spite of the natural regret that accompanied this sacrifice, there was also that joy of satisfaction that always comes with the doing of a real heroic act. Every girl-Bobbie of them felt it her own personal privilege to invite those city youngsters out to Lake Hocomo, and likewise each felt the elation of "doing a big thing."

"I wonder when Peg will come back for her valuables?" mused Grace.

They were "slicking" up the grounds for the day's inspection--someone always came by and looked in on pleasant mornings.

As if the expressed thought had ticked off a message, scarcely had Grace uttered it than Peg and s.h.a.g came racing over the hills.

"Here she comes!" sang out the impetuous Helen.

"Oh, say, girls!" Peg called on ahead of herself. "Don't you want to come up and see my cabin?"

"Do we?" The enthusiasm of Cleo's tone was pure compliment.

"Just wait until we get these papers in the incinerator," panted Julia. "We will all be off duty then and glad to go up to your cabin."

Everyone felt that way, which was evinced by the unusual haste made in the slicking-up process.

Peg looked like a different girl! She had discarded the mountaineer's costume and wore a simple white dress. The effect was startling. All that severity of outline had vanished. Even the slick black hair seemed to turn up just a little--perhaps with the heat or was it from excitement?

The girls were surprised but hid the fact completely. With a word to Miss Mackin--who like the others was hurrying, although her task was to finish a very pretty basket for her mother--they all raced off with Peg and s.h.a.g. The big dog was frantic with delight. It was very evident he had taken a real liking to the little Scouts.

"You will have to overlook some things," warned Peg, as they neared the bungalow, "for although auntie is a crackerjack housekeeper she has me to battle against."

Awe, the concomitant of enthusiasm, possessed the girls as they stood on the threshold of that mystery house. As Peg ushered them in, however, each expressed surprise.

"What a duck of a room!" cried Grace.

"Isn't it?" agreed Corene.

They were surveying a very quaintly arranged room, indeed. The low beamed ceilings were of natural rough cedar, the field-stone fireplace stood out like a primitive shrine, and on the floors were the most wonderful Indian rugs.

"We brought those rugs from the West," Peg explained, noting the girls' admiration. "But I want to show you--my studio."

She unlocked a door and ushered the visitors into a very long darkened room. When all were within, she swung the door back, shot a bolt and switched on lights.

"Oh, a shop!" exclaimed Isabel.

"That's just what it is," answered Peg. "This was dad's shop and I have been tinkering here since he left it to me. I miss him dreadfully, for dad and I were great pals," she said bravely.

"And this is the machinery you have been guarding?" said Louise, just daring to put one finger on a long piece of steel that did not go off following the contact.

"Yes," said Peg. "You see, even now I would not leave that door unlocked, and we have never kept a servant since dad started this invention. It is a machine for drilling rock; it will pick up certain kinds of minerals and is most valuable because it can be worked without steam power. Dad had not quite finished it, but he was positive of its value, and a single look at the simple mechanism, he warned me, would easily betray its principle to any skilled mechanic.

That is why the windows are boarded. See," she went to a window and raised a shade, "I can get light from those slanted boards," she explained, "but no one could possibly see into this room. We have a tank that makes our own gas. Daddy was very ingenious," she finished, coming back to the machine from which she had taken a heavy blanket covering.

The Scouts looked about, bewildered. What could a girl do, really, with iron and steel, and leather belts!

"And how did your father get these parts made?" asked Julia. She knew something of machinery, as her own father was a manufacturer.

"Dad made the patterns, in wood, you know, then he had them cast in the city. He a.s.sembled the parts himself, of course. I have never allowed an eye to rest on this," she declared, "for to me it is all something sacred. When Uncle Edward comes he will only have to finish the negotiations with the patent office and s.h.i.+p them this model. It is not so big--that is one of its great attractions." She seemed to fondle the queer-looking machine, which was, as she said, not very large; it could all be put in a crate the size of a packing case.