“Well, it’s something on that order, anyhow,” went on Natalie. “These are our head-bands. Mine is almost finished,” and she showed her pretty conventionalized design of a dark-green pine tree on a turquoise-blue background.
“Are you going to weave some of those to-day?” asked Phil. “That’s the way with girls. They go off in the woods for a day’s outing, and trot along a book, or some of that filmy lace stuff, and that’s how they enjoy themselves.”
“Well, it’s just as much fun for us, as it is for you boys to lie around doing nothing, or cutting fish poles or—or—whatever you do,” said Alice, rather at a loss for comparisons.
“But where are you bound for?” persisted Blake.
“Oh, off for a day in the woods,” said Mrs. Bonnell, noncommittally.
“Aren’t we coming?” inquired Phil.
“Not this time, little boy. Run along and finish doing your breakfast dishes,” mocked Marie. “We’re going out riding with some better-looking chaps than you.”
“Meaning those fellows from We-Too camp?” demanded Jack.
“They happen to be going to take us,” said Natalie. “And we’ll be sure of getting there and getting back.”
“Meaning a knock at our faithful old gasoline craft,” put in Blake. “All right, young ladies, if you do get stuck you needn’t signal us for a tow. You can walk home. Come on, fellows, we’re insulted,” and he stalked back into the tent.