OFF FOR CAMP
"But Cologne won't wait another day. I have got to be off to camp,"
Dorothy insisted.
"Isn't our camp good enough?" asked Joe. "We have not seen you for so
long--and now off you go again."
"Yes, and I thought she was going to cook for us. I guess I don't want
to camp with the fellows cooking," murmured the disappointed Roger.
"I am sure I would love to stay at the Cedars longer," their sister
assured them. "But you know I must keep my engagements, and I am to
live in a real camp this summer."
"And Tavia is going, too," Roger went on. "If she was around here
there might be some fun."
"Perhaps you both can come to Maine for a stay. Then you would see the
great big moose you hear so much about. If they are not to be found
alive I am sure we could manage to see some dead," said Dorothy. "Now
be good boys, and I'll see if I can arrange that."
She was saying good-bye to her brothers, and a half hour later she had
taken her chair in the train bound through New England _en route_ for
Maine. The few days spent at home had been so delightful--even her
Wild-West adventure had ended up happily, for Royal Drake, the
erstwhile bandit, did all he could to make up for his "crimes," and
even went so far as to take Dorothy to a big tree, in the hollow of
which he had hidden considerable loot, during his try at the "wild and
wooly." This loot Roy took back to his own home, which had been the
first scene of his juvenile depredations. He declared he did get out
of a window with the stuff, and otherwise fulfilled the attempt in
true desperado fashion, but before Dorothy left him, she felt that he
had changed his mind as to the propriety of this line of "fun."
"I hope I meet Tavia on time," Dorothy was thinking, as she neared the
station where her companion was expected to board the train. "If she
keeps up her reputation, though, I won't. Something is sure to happen
when Tavia goes traveling."
Summer folks were taking themselves and their luggage into the crowded
cars. It did seem that the privilege of carrying freight personally
was being abused, for old and young were simply bending down under
the weight of the stuff for which they struggled to find room in the
passenger coaches.
"That would simply spoil my vacation," Dorothy reflected. "It seems to
me each season evolves some new sort of hamper to be hampered with."
"Doro!"
It was Tavia!
"Oh, hello--Tavia. I was so afraid----"
"You don't look it. I fancied I saw you sizing up that piece of
architecture at the door. Gothic; isn't it?" and Tavia fell into the
chair Dorothy had emptied for her. The "piece of architecture" took
the sofa at the end of the car, and she appeared to need every bit of
it for her hat, and other pieces of luggage.
"Funny how the porters always like that sort of thing," remarked
Dorothy. "I don't believe they ever get a cent for it, either."
"But look at the glory," said Tavia. "Every eye in the car is on that
sofa. My gaze is simply crowded out. Let's want something. Oh, yes. I
have lost my--'Porter!'" called Tavia sweetly, at the same time
touching the button at the window. The man in the brass-buttoned
uniform turned promptly. "I have lost my hand bag," said Tavia. "I
surely had it when I entered."
Persons in several seats around disturbed themselves. Dorothy's face
flushed. How absurd Tavia was to make that confusion, just for fun.
Every time Tavia stooped to look under the seat, or about it, she
would pinch Dorothy, which act did not add to the latter's comfort.
"Oh, I have it," exclaimed the wily one. "Thank you so much," and she
smiled clear up and down the aisle. "I was sure I had it," and taking
her seat, she managed, in the most conspicuously discreet way, to slip
into the porter's palm something shiny.
"There," she added, when he was gone, "wasn't that neat, Doro? He is
ours now for the rest of the trip, and the lady on the sofa is _nil_."
Dorothy knew it was worse than useless to protest, but this was not
the sort of thing she considered fun.
"Did you have a pleasant time at Dalton?" she asked, hoping to get
Tavia's attention. "I was so sorry I could not go up for a day."
"You might be glad," replied Tavia. "Of all the stupid times--I would
have run away but for Johnnie. He took me fishing, and I--wore
overalls! Oh, only out in the woods, of course, but it was sport, and
I caught fish! It's skirts that hoodoo the catch. I have come to that
conclusion."
"In what woods did you wear--overalls?" and Dorothy looked almost
frightened. Might Tavia have the garb with her?
"Oh, away out Mushroom way. And I stretched out just like any
respectable boy, and cast the line! Dear me, Doro! I would just loved
to have smoked! That would have made it--perfect!"
"There isn't a shock left in me," Dorothy assured her, "so don't try
so hard Tavia. I am simply immune. You must have looked
just--sweet--in overalls. I hope they were dark blue."
"_Are_," corrected Tavia, "_are_ dark blue," and she wheeled around
out toward the aisle just as a young chap in white flannels passed
along. He looked down at her in that pardonable way common even in the
best style of traveling. Dorothy breathed more easily when he passed
out to the next coach.
"Wasn't he dear?" commented Tavia. "Doro, I just know we are going to
have a perfectly bang-up time, this summer."
"Take care you come out of it without too much 'banging' up,"
cautioned Dorothy. "This summer business is getting exciting."
"Wonder if we will see the man of the horse? He who made such
beautiful bows, and acted so--actly. Wasn't he lovely? My, I have
dreamed of him, Doro!"
"Foolish," replied the other. "Nat said he fancied that chap would
make trouble."
The thought that Cologne might have whispered to Dorothy something
about Tavia getting a letter from this man just flashed across her
mind. Tavia was always getting into some foolish scrape, and kept
Dorothy busy getting her out, and it just occurred to Dorothy that it
might not be a bad idea to let Tavia try getting herself out, should
she repeat her usual indiscretions of risking too much for the sake of
some trifling whim.
"Bangor! Bangor!" called the porter, and our friends gathered
themselves up to make the change for Lake Monadic.
"I must get a shoe shine," said Tavia, as they stepped on the platform
of the big depot. "Just wait here. I won't be three minutes."
"We only have five," Dorothy told her, "and if you are late--I must go
on. Cologne is going to meet us away out from camp."
"Oh I'll be back," promised Tavia, and then she was lost in the
throng.