"Mr. Smarty!" cried Clara Marshall.
All eight of the girls were now in the burned clearing, surrounding the two boys laughingly, while Greg and Dan now ran up.
Out of the woods near the road came Dr. and Mrs. Bentley.
"Prescott," called the doctor, "we forgot to write and secure your permission for this latest vagary of mine."
"I don't know what the vagary is, sir, but the permission is assured in advance," laughed Dick. "What are you going to do, anyway, sir?"
"I'm afraid the idea will bore you," laughed Dr. Bentley, "but back in the road are the same two automobiles, also two two-horse wagons, loaded to the gunwales, so to speak. We've brought two small, portable houses, a couple of tents, a lot of bedding and supplies, and other things needed, and we're going to try to pitch a camp not too far from yours. Does the information convey any jar to your spine?"
"Not a jar," answered Dick promptly, standing with his hat off in the presence of Mrs. Bentley and the eight girls. "The only thing I notice in the way of sensation over the news is a great thrill of delight."
"It's a pity that Dave and some of the other boys couldn't find their tongues and make as good use of them as Dick has just done," pouted Belle Meade.
"Dick Prescott is our captain, always," replied Darry, with a comical sigh, "and his sway extends even to the point of his bartering away our liberties."
"Let us go on, farther into the woods," urged Belle, turning to
Dr. Bentley.