A SHARP ATTACK
“Natalie Fuller! Don’t you dare say such things!”
“The idea of any one being at our camp!”
“I sha’n’t sleep a wink to-night!”
“I don’t believe you left the olives and other things out at all—you’ve
made a mistake.”
Thus did the chums of breath-of-the-pine-tree try to refute her
statement.
“Are you sure, Natalie?” asked Mrs. Bonnell.
“Positive,” was her answer.
“She wouldn’t be likely to forget if Jack asked her to do anything,”
declared Marie with a laugh.
“I thought it was Blake,” said Mabel.
“Stop it!” demanded Natalie with a stamp of her small foot, encased in a
boating shoe, while the red surged up under her olive coat of tan. “Some
one _has_ been here!” she added.
“Yes, and a can of peaches is gone!” declared Mrs. Bonnell, looking
along an improvised shelf, where some canned goods had been set. “I
remember noticing that there was one on the very end of the row,” she
continued, “and now it is missing. Some one has been taking liberties
with our camp.”
“Tramps,” suggested Mabel.
“Gypsies,” declared Natalie. “Oh, dear! I hope they won’t come around
after dark.”
“How can you suggest such things?” demanded Mrs. Bonnell. “Stop!”
“We must tell the boys,” remarked Marie, and a little later, the meal
being finished a flag was run up on a pole near the lake shore. It was
easily observable from the point where the boys camped, and was an
adopted signal requesting the presence of the three chums at Crystal
Springs.
“Well, what is it this time?” asked Jack as he and his companions
arrived a little later. “Has old Jackson been trying to arrest you again
for scaring some one’s cows?”
“Nonsense,” declared his sister. “This is more serious. Boys, we’ve
been——”
“Nothing is more serious than scaring cows,” insisted Jack. “If you make
them run they’ll give milk instead of butter.”
“Then I should think it would save the farmers the bother of churning,”
was Mabel’s opinion, at which they all laughed.
“What is up?” asked Blake, seeing that the girls looked worried.
“Some one has been taking our things,” said Mrs. Bonnell. “A bottle of
olives, some sardines——”
“The ones you asked me for, Jack,” put in Natalie.
“Look here!” cried Marie, as she detected a grin on the faces of Blake
and Phil, “you boys have been taking stuff; haven’t you? Own up now, if
you have. We’ll forgive you, for we don’t want to have to worry; and,
really, it’s enough to make any one nervous.”
“Not guilty,” answered Phil.
“We have committed many sins,” replied Blake, with mock-heroics, “but
far be it from us to rob the helpless. So, Master Jack, you have been
soliciting alms in the shape of sardines; hast thou?”
“Yes, for you duffers don’t like ’em, and wouldn’t buy any. I offered to
pay Nat for a can, only——”
“Oh, you’re welcome to them, I’m sure,” said Mrs. Bonnell. “We were only
thinking that perhaps you came over here while we were away and——”
“No, we didn’t,” said Blake, and he spoke so seriously that there was
nothing for it but to believe him. “Just what happened?”
“You tell him, Nat,” urged the other Camp Fire Girls and Natalie did.
“Doesn’t it look as though some one was here?” she finished, twisting
the silver ring on her finger—the ring with the symbol of the seven
fagots.
“It certainly does,” agreed Blake. “We’ll take a look around,” and he
started down to the shore of the lake.
“What good will that do?” asked Phil. “Do you think you can spot their
feetsteps?”
“I might,” answered Blake coolly. “All the girls wear rubber-soled
shoes, as we do, and if some stranger came to camp he might have on
other kind of coverings. They would show in the soft ground. You take a
look back where the road comes in,” he advised.
“There might be something in that,” admitted Jack. “Come on, Phil,” and
the three were soon scanning the ground about the camp while the girls,
rather disturbed by the information that had come to them, finished
clearing away the lunch dishes.
“It won’t be safe to go away after this,” said Mabel.
“Not unless we lock up our best things,” added Alice.
“You can’t lock a tent,” declared Marie.
“No, but we can our trunks. Oh, the boys have found something!” she
suddenly cried, as excited voices came from some little distance away
from the tents where the three chums had gone.
“Don’t you hit that!” Jack could be heard to yell.
“No, leave it alone!” insisted Blake.
There was the crash of a stone through the treetops.
“Oh, they’re having a fight!” screamed Mabel. “Some one has attacked
them!”
“Your ammonia gun—quick!” begged Natalie. “Oh, Mrs. Bonnell!”
The Guardian made a rush for the sleeping tent. There came a chorus of
yells from the boys and then a series of crashing sounds that told of
hasty flight through underbrush.
“Not that way! Not that way!” yelled Blake. “Do you want to lead ’em to
the girls!”
“I don’t care where I lead ’em, as long as they let me alone!” answered
Phil. “Wow! One got me that time!”
“Hurry! Hurry with that ammonia pistol!” besought Natalie, looking to
where the boys were running about, wildly waving their hands over their
heads.
“What did you want to hit it for?” shouted Jack. “I told you what it
was!”
“But I didn’t think it was,” answered Phil, as he dodged here and there.
“What is the matter? Oh, what is the matter?” screamed Mabel. “Are they
after you?”
“They sure are,” declared her brother. “We’ve stirred up a hornets’
nest! Get in the tent and stay there until they calm down. Wow!” he
yelled. “One bit me then!”
The boys were wildly rushing about, while there was a curious humming
sound in the air. The girls gave one look, saw a number of insects
flying everywhere, and then hurried into the main tent, pulling the
flaps after them.
“Get in the water!” yelled a new voice. “Run for the lake and duck!
That’s the only way to get rid of ’em!”