The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong Part 15

"Hurrah for the home folks," led Corene.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" boomed the l.u.s.ty cheer, until the hills echoed and the lake repeated the hail.

Then the picnic and shower were over, and the Bobbies were so excited they hardly knew whether to show Izzy the spring or Helen the woodpile.

The colors were lowered by Louise and Julia, and then clouds gathering beyond the rim of trees glowered ominously, and that reminded them that they must hurry to gather more wood before the rain would come.

CHAPTER XII

A RECORD BREAKER

"More showers than those of cakes and cookies," said Miss Mackin from the depths of her pine needle pillow. "Just hear that!"

Thunder rolled and the rain was finding its way through the trees.

"Whew!" Louise almost whistled. "Just hear the wild roar!"

Like a concrete body the "roar" rolled down the mountain, and with a terrific rip and tear it hit the tent.

"Oh, mercy!" cried Cleo.

"Hold on to your bunks!" cautioned Grace.

This they actually did, for the wind had struck with such cyclonic force it seemed the canvas would be torn from its moorings.

"We have good shelter here," Miss Mackin a.s.sured the anxious ones.

"There is no need for alarm."

If they agreed with her no one said so, for the tent flapped and flapped and tried its best to follow the dare of that wind, until it seemed surely something must give way.

The night light had been brought inside, as Mackey secretly expected a big storm, and now just the faintest glimmer shown from its peg where it hung by the front door.

To accommodate the company, three cots had been run together and the beds arranged crosswise, blankets and cushions covered the rims, so that it was considered possible, if not probable, that four girls could thus sleep on the three beds. Over in a corner Helen and Madaline shared quarters with Margaret, so that any sort of sleep for that night was rather uncertain even before the storm broke loose, and tried to break everything else loose with it.

Another blast and again Isabel called:

"Hold fast!"

Then there was a slam of something!

"What was that?" asked Miss Mackin quickly.

Heads were under blankets now and gave no answer.

"Did anyone fall out of bed?" she asked, a trifle anxiously.

"We're all right," came a m.u.f.fled reply from the "buckboard" party on the crosswise bed.

There was another queer slamming sound!

This brought the director to her feet, and having already pulled on her slippers she quickly proceeded to take inventory and count heads.

With the lantern in hand she made sure each bed was where it might be expected to be, although she did have to pull down blankets to inspect, but when she got over in the corner to Helen's quarters----

"Where's Madaline?" she asked.

Helen ventured to poke her head from its hiding place and then felt around beside her.

"She isn't--here!" came the surprising reply.

"Where is she? Could she have fallen out?" Miss Mackin gathered the blanket ends to look carefully under the cots, but no Madaline was discovered.

"Oh!" shrieked a chorus, as a terrific gust of wind somehow succeeded in blowing out their only light!

Such confusion as followed!

The girls screamed and howled. Corene begged them to keep quiet, and after a moment or two that seemed like an hour, the wind was again roaring in solo, while the girls at last listened to the entreaties of their director.

"Please be quiet," she begged. "I turned the lantern suddenly and with the wind it blew out. There, it is lighted again," and the welcome glow returned. "But where is Madaline?"

Another and more careful survey of the entire tent was made, and could the girls have seen Miss Mackin's face now, they might have guessed how intense was her alarm, for really, the little fat Madaline was nowhere to be found!

Realizing this everyone jumped up and quickly slipped into emergency covering.

"Could she have blown out the door?" asked Cleo.

Miss Mackin had herself wondered at that far-fetched contingency, and she attempted to thrust the lantern between the curtains, but a sheet of rain drove her back into the tent.

"Where can the child be?" she murmured.

"She simply must have blown away!" wailed Corene. "Girls, come along!

We must get her. She might blow into the lake!"

Storm and danger were forgotten now, for anxiety was too real to admit of anything merely probable.

Without being directed to do so each little Scout was getting into some clothing, with the khaki storm coats on top and the chin strapped hats crushed firmly on the tousled heads.

"Look under every bed again," ordered Miss Mackin. It seemed impossible the child could actually have left the tent.

"Not here!" came the melancholy report, as bed clothing and pillows were tossed aside.

There was a moment of such suspense as might have frozen that storm and thus subdued its fury.

"We will have to go out and look for her," said Miss Mackin. "b.u.t.ton your coats tight and don't leave each other. Each two take a lantern"

(these had been quickly lighted and taken from their emergency line), "we must surely find her very near. She can't really have blown away."