The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong Part 8

"Weasy!" came the chorus; and presently the newest version of popular songs, adjusted to the Girl Scout needs, with clever words that just fitted the tunes, were "tried" and rather successfully executed. The clear, true voice of Weasy carried along the more uncertain tones of Grace and Cleo, like chips of sound on the crest of a song wave, and once started the "sing" went merrily on until the home dock was finally reached.

A sigh of satisfaction ended the chorus. The Pedagogue was docked and stored for the night, although the interested Benny and his clan crawled under the big canoe "just for sport," the Bobbies said good-night and turned back to the hills for their first night under the stars.

It was almost dark as they hurried along under the trees, and it was not by accident that each little girl clutched the arm of her companion. They needed the nearness on this first night, at any rate, and Cleo more than once cast a surrept.i.tious glance back over the lake to Chipmunk cottage, where she knew, at that very moment, Daddy was looking campward and thinking of his little girl who had flown from the home nest for the first time.

But she trudged along eager for the big experience, even if conscious of its sentimental cost.

"One lantern will answer for us, I think," said the director. "Shall we have a campfire and story to-night?"

"Oh, yes, surely!" replied Corene, who managed to frame first the same answer the others attempted.

The two big logs, between which the fire was to be built, were already in place, and it was now time for Julia to s.h.i.+ne in her especial department. She undertook to build the stone oven for the cooking purposes, so she also included the responsibility of making place and arrangements for the campfire.

Following the camp manual "no paper nor excelsior nor other artificial means" were to be employed in the fire making, but instead the "punk"

wood, gouged from the heart of a dry log, was placed in the "V" of the two big green logs; then the tiny twigs and light material were first piled up so that the "light with one match only" was successfully accomplished, and a merry blaze burst out to greet Julia and cheer her companions, almost before the others realized the fire was really started.

Every member of the little patrol stood looking on--spellbound. What is more inspiring than a campfire in the clearance, with the tent "hard by" and the sheltering trees overlooking?

"Oh, if only we could get the girl Peg, you know, to come down and join us," sighed Grace.

"Let's try," suggested Cleo. "She seemed friendly and it won't do any harm to try. I'll go over the hill with you?"

"If Mackey will let us," followed Grace. The other girls were finding seats on the big logs arranged at a safe distance from the fire, and when the director heard the request of Grace and Cleo, she agreed they might go over the hill to the cabin, if they kept to the path in front of the other camps and came directly back.

It was not yet dark and the two Bobbies started off on a merry chase, as usual. Near the cabin they met s.h.a.g, the big collie, and he made friends promptly, perhaps because they wore the same sort of brownish outfit his own mistress was usually dressed in.

"Shall we go right up and knock?" deliberated Cleo. Now that they faced the cabin they faced also its restrictions.

"No," reflected Grace. "We had better call."

Suiting the words to action she cupped her hands and "Whoo-hooed" once or twice; then waited.

No answer.

"Call, use her name," suggested Cleo, leaving the duty to Grace.

"Peg! Peg-gee!" called Grace. "Hey--oh! Peg!" she trilled in a curly sort of call.

s.h.a.g seemed restless now and his manner was less confident. He didn't wag so enthusiastically, but instead sniffed with suspicion.

Finally the cabin door opened and Peg appeared. She hurried down and met the girls where they waited.

"We came to bring you over to our first campfire," Grace almost spluttered. She was excited and in a hurry to return to camp before the night should overtake them.

"Oh, I really couldn't go!" protested Peg, but her voice was toned with a hint of regret.

"You've just got to," said Cleo. "We are bandits and we're going to kidnap you!" and quite as if the play had not been all planned, each Scout slipped her arm into the arms of Peg and urged her forward.

A ripple of girlish laughter answered the challenge, but s.h.a.g didn't like it and he growled threateningly.

The girls stepped back for a moment, fearing the dog might attempt to interfere, when another figure appeared in the doorway. It was Aunt Carrie, and she very quickly and decidedly ordered s.h.a.g to "come here, sir," which he did, by that time realizing his very natural mistake.

"Really, girls," said Peg. "I do thank you for being so friendly, but I can't go."

"And this our first night on the grounds and you the original Scout!"

sulked Cleo. "At any rate it is getting so dark I don't see how we will dare go back alone."

"You _are_ a bandit," laughed the stranger, "and I suppose----"

"That you must come," Grace finished happily. "Hurry, do please! The fire is going high, just see it! And we may miss the story."

"You stay here then," ordered Peg rather shyly, "while I get my cape from Aunt Carrie. s.h.a.g will be sure to call for me later."

Grace and Cleo danced a few steps while waiting, but in a very few moments Peg was back with her cape over her arm.

"I can't tell you how surprised I am," she admitted. "I so very seldom go calling."

"But you are a Scout and you wouldn't be unfriendly," almost charged Cleo.

"Maybe that's it," returned Peg; and arm in arm the trio stumbled back to the campfire, for it was quite impossible to walk without stumbling when r.e.t.a.r.ded by darkness from taking the jumps and jerks necessary to the ordeal.

When they reached Camp Comalong Mackey was just starting her story.

CHAPTER VIII

GLOW OF THE CAMPFIRE'S GLEAM

"And so the mystery of the 'Pocket In Black Rock' was finally cleared up," ended the story teller, as the big smoldering log fell into the blaze and sent up a "fire-works" of spluttering embers.

The Bobbies hugged the line of waists that sat squat in front of the campfire. Peg had been accorded a seat of honor directly in front of the biggest blaze, and it was not possible to escape her sighs and gasps of rapt attention, as the thrills of the story were unwound, and she jumped up now and smiled so frankly into the face of the director that no shadow of doubt remained as to this strange girl's sincerity.

"I have never had such a lovely time!" she declared with something of the social habit, "and I'm ever--so thankful to you and the girls."

The Bobbies were all delighted. Somehow this little woods-girl was so picturesque and fitted in the scene so perfectly now, when the blaze lit up her entire form, as she stood outlined against the night--it was hard to imagine she was in any way queer!

But the next moment she had flung her cape over her shoulders, thrust her fingers into her mouth to make shriller the whistle she emitted, and when s.h.a.g leaped "into the ring" she said good-night, repeated it to each section of the group, and then was off with her dog, before the others could offer "to go with her over the hill" or even to ask her to come again.

Her abrupt departure left a sort of "hole in the group." While she was there the others felt a fascination, that usually accorded to mystery, and perhaps she as much as Miss Mackin's thrilling story had furnished the evening's interest. But during all the time she exchanged no word even of comment, and some of the girls suspected that the "kidnapping"

perpetrated by Grace and Cleo had been more real than imagined.

"What joy!" enthused Margaret, looking up to see if she could find the stars blinking after having her eyes glare-shot by the fire. "To think we are going to sleep out here in the woods!"

"And we must make our inspection now," announced the careful director.

"Corene, you are leader; get the lantern, please."