As soon as they had concluded their meal of bacon and bread, they started back for camp. This time there was no dread of getting lost, no fear of a storm. They reached the camp in good time, and were greeted with joyous war whoops and numerous pistol shots; even the cook was waiting to see with his own eyes that the girls were safe.
Early in the afternoon the whole party started out again. Riding steadily upward to the top of the mountain, they found the scenery even more wonderful than Mr. Hilton had depicted. Making their camp, they stayed there over night, and early the next morning started on the return trip to the ranch. This time the journey was less eventful; nothing occurred to prevent them from reaching home on scheduled time.
The five scouts who had taken the trip were now thoroughly accustomed to living out of doors, and would have been sorry indeed to return to civilization, had it not been for the prospect of seeing the other scouts. It seemed much longer than three days to Marjorie since she had said goodbye to Lily; she longed for the time when they were to see each other again.
And then, there was the mail. It had been almost a week since she had been away; surely there must be some letters for her. The last one she had received before her departure was from her brother Jack, telling her about having seen John Hadley with another girl at Cape May. Perhaps now she would get a letter from John, telling her about his new friend.
She found Lily and Doris and Mae sitting on the porch, watching for their return. In their hands they held the girls’ mail, so that they might have it the minute they arrived.
Marjorie saw in a flash that among her letters there was one from John Hadley. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes lighted up with anticipation; it had been so long since she had heard from him.
But when she read the letter—a cool, impersonal sort of thing that seemed as if it had been written with an effort, she was conscious of a feeling of disappointment. Reluctantly she opened her other letters.
“What’s John doing with himself?” asked Lily, who could not help noticing and recognizing the handwriting on the envelope.
“Working hard, going to Cape May every week-end with his mother. He gets his vacation the last two weeks in August.” Marjorie answered mechanically, without raising her eyes from the letter she was reading.
“And that will be the end of ours, too!” sighed Lily. “It doesn’t seem possible that it will soon be the first of August does it?”