THE ROUND-UP--CONCLUSION
"It's up to Tavia!"
"I have told you every word I am going to tell," she declared.
"Oh, no you haven't," objected Nat. "I want to know about that stagey
fellow. I don't quite fancy his interference."
"He didn't interfere," declared Tavia, "and I am not going over that
thing again."
"Oh, no, he didn't interfere," repeated Ned. "He merely had it all his
own way. Now, if I had long hair----"
"Ned," interrupted Dorothy, "please don't. You must remember that the
poor fellow was not responsible."
"Lucky dog," murmured Ned, giving Cologne one of his favorite looks
(Ned had a fancy for Cologne).
"Then I think that Dorothy ought to tell her part," insisted Jack. "We
have heard rumors of terrible things!"
"Mere rumors," said Dorothy with a laugh, "Why shouldn't I be entitled
to my own experience? Haven't I paid it all back to you?"
"Nope. Not for the shoe that caught in the trap," said Ned
facetiously.
"Nor for visiting absolute strangers like those Hobbses," added
Cologne, "and they are completely out of our set."
"Well, I don't mind," agreed Jack. "We have found Molly."
"Jackie, you do know a good thing when you see it," complimented Ned.
Molly sat out on the low camp stool very close to Jack, and it was
plain there was no objection on the part of either as to this
particular closeness.
"Ralph says nothing----" began Tavia.
"But saws wood," added Ned, with a wink, for Ralph seemed to have
appropriated Dorothy.
Altogether they were a happy set of campers. It was only ten days
since the close of that distressing search, that had taken up so many
of their camping days, but there was still left plenty of time for the
best of outings, which their keenness after their troubles made the
more merry.
Camp Dorothy was the name of the new tent that Mrs. Harriwell had sent
up immediately after her daughter's installation with the campers.
With the express came two maids, one for work, and the other to look
after Molly. Mrs. Harriwell had to be content with stopping at a
nearby hotel, but every day she came over to the camp, and really was
almost like a young girl herself, so great was her joy in the sudden
restoration of her daughter's health. It developed that the sick
girl's case had been one of pure melancholia, following a shock of
grief, and that her association with Dorothy and her friends was the
one thing she most needed. The second shock, in falling, had restored
her reason.
But Tavia could not forget that her fault had caused great trouble to
Dorothy, and try as the latter did, she could not get Tavia to resume
her usual good spirits.
"But it takes Nat," whispered Cologne, as he and Tavia sauntered off
to catch imaginary trout. "Needn't worry about Tavia's nerves."
"I move," said Ralph, "that the--heroine--ahem, be excused from duty
for the period of two weeks. Every time I ask Dorothy to go for a
sail, she has to wash dishes."
Dorothy blushed prettily. "I must do my share of the housekeeping,"
she insisted. "Besides--it's fun."
Ralph was not to be put off this time, however, and he declared
that if Dorothy did not go for a sail with him that very
afternoon--he--would--drown--himself.
"Oh, such luck!" shouted Ned. "Too many fellows around here----"
Major Dale stood watching, but hardly listening.
"What's the answer, Uncle?" asked Ned, seeing that the major had
something to say.
"I have just been wondering," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "what
would have happened if Dorothy had not gone up that tree. And you
boys----"
"That's all," interrupted Nat, who had returned to the group. "You are
excused."
"I have been wondering," put in Mrs. Harriwell, who, with Mrs. Markin,
was enjoying the afternoon on the porch within hearing distance, "what
would have happened if Dorothy had not been mistaken for Molly. It was
a lucky mistake."
But Dorothy insisted she had done nothing extraordinary. Yet she could
not help but wonder what would happen next. And what did happen will
be told in another book, to be called, "Dorothy Dale's School Rivals,"
in which we shall learn the particulars of some stirring doings at
Glenwood Academy.
"All the same," declared Tavia, a little sheepishly, "I don't believe
it pays to try to keep Dorothy out when there's a question of----"
"Common sense," finished Cologne. "There's the cowbell. And it's
Tavia's turn to cook supper!"
Tavia sprang up and darted down the path. Nat followed.
"She hasn't learned to work yet," commented Cologne. She never knew a
thing about how Tavia darned the station master's socks.
Camp Dorothy had been closed tight all day. As tea-time struck, the
maid threw up the big flap. "Surprise! Surprise!" she called, and such
a feast as was spread! The very best that could be obtained for miles
about Everglade.