Ruth guessed what must be the trouble then, and she forced Jennie’s hands out of the neck of her waist and ran her hand down the plump girl’s back. Between them they killed the ant, for Ruth finally recovered a part of the unfortunate creature.
“But just think,” consoled Helen, “how much more awful it would have been if you had swallowed him, Heavy, instead of his wriggling down your spinal column.”
“Oh, don’t! I can feel him wriggling now,” sighed Jennie.
“That can be nothing more than his ghost,” said Tom soberly, “for Ruth retrieved at least half of the ant’s bodily presence.”
“You’ll give us all the fidgets if you keep on wriggling, Jennie,” declared Aunt Kate.
“Well, I don’t want to sit on the grass in a woodsy place again while we are on this journey,” sighed Jennie. “Ugh! I always did hate creepy things.”
“Including spiders, snakes, beetles and babies, I suppose?” laughed Helen. “Come on now. Let us clear up the wreck. Where do we camp to-night, Tommy?”
“No more camping, I pray!” squealed Jennie. “I am no Gypsy.”
“The hotel at Hampton is recommended as the real thing. They have a horse show every year at Hampton, you know. It is in the midst of a summer colony of wealthy people. It is the real thing,” Tom repeated.
They made a pleasant and long run that afternoon and arrived at the Hampton hotel in good season to dress for dinner. Jennie and her aunt met some people they knew, and naturally Jennie’s fiancé and her friends were warmly welcomed by the gay little colony.