It was then that Marjorie told her story, omitting, however, the fact that she had noticed a resemblance to the red car.
“What kind of people could they be to want to steal food?” asked Florence. “Why food in particular?”
“That is just what puzzles me,” answered Mrs. Remington. “They must be campers, like ourselves.”
“I have an idea!” cried Alice. “Suppose we steal some from the next machine that comes along! If we only weren’t Girl Scouts—”
“Come, let’s stop this talking and do something!” said Florence, who was beginning to feel the pangs of hunger. “Shall we try to catch the car? Would you know it again, Marj?”
“Hardly. It was too dark. I merely saw that it was a low, small car without a top, and that it carried no lights. I’m afraid we can’t hope to catch it.” She cast a significant glance at Ethel.
“Well, there’s not much harm done,” declared Mrs. Remington cheerfully, as she began to make preparations for departure. “We have plenty of money left, and we can afford to lose a little time. So let’s hurry and be on our way again. At least we can have a drink of water for breakfast.”
“If only we could catch the thieves!” sighed Alice, as she walked back to the grove.
“Maybe we will yet!” Marjorie muttered under her breath to Ethel.