"Aren't you ready, Ruthie?" cried Helen from the back seat of the car.
"Do hurry up, Ruth—the horses don't want to stand," laughed Tom, who was slim and black haired and black eyed, like his twin. Indeed, the two were so much alike that, dressed in each other's clothing, it is doubtful if they could have been suspected in such disguise.
"But my bag isn't packed yet," cried Ruth. "I didn't know you'd be here so soon."
"Take your toothbrush and powder puff—that's all you girls really need," declared the irrepressible Tom.
"I like that! And on a two days' trip into the hills," said his sister, beating him soundly with an energetic fist.
"Give him one or two good ones for me, Helen," said Ruth, and ran in to finish her preparations for the journey she was to take with her friends.
"Pshaw!" grumbled the impatient Tom, "going to Uncle Ike's isn't like going to a fancy hotel. And we'll stop over to-night with Fred Larkin's folks—the girls there would lend you and Ruth all you need."
"Hold on!" exclaimed his sister. "Just what have you in your bag? I know it's heavy. You have all you want——"
"Sure. Pair of socks, two collars, fishing tackle, some books I borrowed of Fred last year, my bicycle wrench—you never know when you are going to need it,—a string of wampum I promised to take to Nealy Larkin—she's a Campfire girl, you know—and an Indian tomahawk for Fred——"
"But, clothes! clothes!" gasped Helen. "Where are your shirts?"