“Goody! We’ll bring the other girls up here some day when the mill is not running and climb to the top of the mill for the view,” declared Frank.
Bess and Mina, with some advice from Mrs. Havel, made a very good breakfast. Although neither was very domestic in her tastes, the two young cooks were on their mettle, and did the best they could. If the hot biscuits were not quite so flaky as their mothers’ own cooks made them at home, and some of the poached eggs broke in the poacher, and the broiled bacon got afire several time and “fussed them all up,” as Mina said, the general opinion of the occupants of Green Knoll Camp was that “there was no kick coming”–of course, expressed thus by the slangy Frank Cameron.
Grace would dawdle over the dishwashing, and Percy was a good second. Therefore, those two still had work on their hands when Bess sighted a motor boat coming swiftly toward their camp from the direction of Gannet Island.
“Now somebody’s going to butt in and bother us,” declared Bess. “It can’t be the Busters, I s’pose?”
“That’s exactly who it is!” cried Wyn, delightedly. “That’s the Happy Day. Dave said if his cousin, Frank Dumont, could come up here, he would bring his father’s motor boat. And he must have come yesterday when we were busy and did not see him.”
“Hurrah!” cried Frank. “A motor boat beats a canoe all to pieces.”
“The Busters are aboard, all right,” sighed Bess, after another look. “Now we’ll have a noisy time.”
“Now there’ll be something doing!” quoth Frank. “That’s the trouble with a crowd of girls. After they have played ‘Ring Around the Rosy’ and ‘London Bridge is Falling Down’ they don’t know another living thing to do except to sit down and look prim and be prosy. But with boys it’s different. There’s something doing all the time.”
“You should have been a boy, Frank,” declared Bess, with some disgust.
“If I was one, I’d be hanging around your house all the time, Bessie mine,” laughed the other, hugging the boy-hater.