The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong Part 12

A look akin to disgust crossed the face of Corene. How she longed to "speak the truth for once," but politeness forbade the experiment.

"You can't wear the uniform unless you are a Scout, and you can't be a Scout unless you qualify," she snapped.

"And what do you do to qualify?"

"Fuss and Buzz" had both seated themselves without invitation, and now their line of questions indicated rather a stay.

Corene sank back and sighed. She picked up her book and toyed with it significantly. But no one replied. There was danger of a general laugh breaking out if someone didn't say something quickly, so Louise, just coming back from the water pail, offered an excuse.

"All right Louie?" asked Grace. She had never called Louise Louie before.

"Oh, yes, I just choked," replied Louise, "and went for a drink."

"A drink!" repeated the Buzzer. "Oh, could we have a lovely, cool drink? We are so warm from walking."

What could the Bobbies do?

"Certainly," said Julia. "I'll fetch it."

"I'll help you," offered Cleo, glad to escape for a moment.

A brand new tin pie pan with two gla.s.ses of spring water was fetched.

There was no doily, either paper or otherwise, although the usual tray was so covered.

The strangers drank heartily, however, and it seemed now they surely must go. But they didn't.

"And you couldn't take us for just a teeny-weeny while?" cooed Fuss.

"Oh, if you only could, we would be so good! We would do all the work--do you have to do all the work?" came another silly question.

"We don't _have_ to but we _choose_ to," snapped Corene again. Her companions seemed to have no pity, for rarely did one of them offer to help her out. Why didn't Mackey come and rescue them? Each was wondering.

"Do you know that queer girl on the hilltop?" asked Fussy, unexpectedly.

"Who do you mean?" Grace challenged.

"'Fly-away Peg,' they call her. She's so queer, and so--so sort of heathenish," said Buzzy.

"We are acquainted with Peggie Ramsdell," replied Grace, glad that she remembered the name, "but we don't consider her queer."

"You don't, really! Then you don't know her. She is very queer, and if I were you--so young and trusting--I'd keep away from her," offered the second intruder.

"Why should we do that?" Corene shot the question defiantly.

"Well," a t.i.tter, "she won't get you any place, that's all," went on the informer. "No one will take you up if you tag around with her."

"We don't want to be taken up," flung back Corene. "And I'm afraid you will have to excuse us. It is almost time for cla.s.s."

"Cla.s.s! And do you go to school here, too?"

No one answered, but all had risen. They would take Corene's cue and go in the tent; if only those rude girls would take themselves off.

"Oh, could we have just one peek in your tent? We are dying to!" came the daring question which was put by both, one tagging the end on the other's introduction.

This brought out Corene's "fighting fury," as the girls were accustomed to characterize her aggressiveness, and now she faced the strangers squarely.

"Aren't you the two young ladies who tried to run us out of the lake this morning?" she demanded. Her face took on a tone of red she tried hard to keep down.

"Oh, did you mind?" simpered one. "Why, we were only fooling. You were having such a lovely time we thought it would be fun to--to chase you."

"You did it to show off and it wasn't funny a bit," declared Corene, her companions applauding with glances. "We don't feel like being friendly but we have tried to be polite," pursued Corene, "but now I guess we had better----"

"Close the interview," mocked Buzz. "Of course we'll go. We never intended to stay. We were only trying to have some fun with you," and her voice fairly hissed her rudeness. "Such babes in the woods! And no mammas! Better call nursie to shoo horrid, big things away. Come along, Toots. They don't want and evidently won't take any advice. But if they tag after Fly-away Peg maybe they'll be sorry they didn't listen."

Then they went, their glaring satin skirts--one was gold and the other mahogany--showing through the heavy brush as they wound in and out the path, their twin-made sweaters of bright pink being last to fade from view, over the little rustic bridge that spanned the creek.

The Scouts stood, too surprised to give expression to their feelings.

"Of all the cheek----" began Grace.

"Why didn't you hit them, Corey? I saw you stoop for a stick," said Cleo.

"I felt like doing something desperate," replied Corene. "I never in all my life saw such nerve."

"Do you think they were really fooling about wanting to come to camp?"

queried Julia.

"They would be glad enough to come indeed if they saw any chance,"

declared Margaret, promptly.

"Can you imagine Buzz and Fuss in our uniforms?" Grace went into perfect kinks at the idea.

"They would love them," drawled Julia, imitating the tone of voice used by the strangers.

"And wouldn't they look cute in the kilties?" mocked Madaline.

"With the green silk stockings and all!" howled Cleo.

Only the approach of Miss Mackin saved the Bobbies from wilder expression of joy--joy that the callers had gone, and joy for the trail of humor they left behind.

Her arms filled with iron weed and late daisies, Mackey looked very pretty as she came along through the soft green setting, so different from the last figures that travelled the same path.

The girls ran to meet her and eagerly told the exciting story.

"You see, I shouldn't leave you very long," commented the director when the account was finished. "You are so attractive, even the frivolous stop to admire. And I have a lovely surprise for you."

They took the flowers from her and "sat her down," as if she were not really a girl but a queen among them.