“Your ammonia gun—quick!” begged Natalie. “Oh, Mrs. Bonnell!”
The Guardian made a rush for the sleeping tent. There came a chorus of yells from the boys and then a series of crashing sounds that told of hasty flight through underbrush.
“Not that way! Not that way!” yelled Blake. “Do you want to lead ’em to the girls!”
“I don’t care where I lead ’em, as long as they let me alone!” answered Phil. “Wow! One got me that time!”
“Hurry! Hurry with that ammonia pistol!” besought Natalie, looking to where the boys were running about, wildly waving their hands over their heads.
“What did you want to hit it for?” shouted Jack. “I told you what it was!”
“But I didn’t think it was,” answered Phil, as he dodged here and there.
“What is the matter? Oh, what is the matter?” screamed Mabel. “Are they after you?”
“They sure are,” declared her brother. “We’ve stirred up a hornets’ nest! Get in the tent and stay there until they calm down. Wow!” he yelled. “One bit me then!”
The boys were wildly rushing about, while there was a curious humming sound in the air. The girls gave one look, saw a number of insects flying everywhere, and then hurried into the main tent, pulling the flaps after them.