“Oh, we’ll be all right as soon as we get up the tent,” declared Alice. “I never knew a tent could tangle so. I don’t see where the boys are. They ought to be here to help us.”
“I believe we did mention something about being independent, and wanting to do things without their help, just to show them that we could,” murmured Natalie softly.
“I wonder, oh, I wonder if that be sarcasm?” whispered Marie, and they all joined in the laugh that followed.
Old Hanson looked up with a grin on his weather-wrinkled face.
“That laughter sounds good,” he muttered. “Everybody feels happier when they come to Green Lake.”
He seemed himself again, a simple countryman, though the others noticed that he glanced at Natalie furtively from time to time, as he straightened out the tangle of the tent ropes.
“I’m sure we’ll all feel better when we get our shelter up, and have a camp fire built,” said Alice.
“Oh, girls, but it’s going to be lovely here when we do get straightened out!” declared Mabel, as she gazed up into the tangle of green in the trees overhead.
“Wo-he-lo—Dogwood Camp Fire!” echoed Natalie, with a trill to her deep, rich contralto voice.
“Is that your college yell?” asked Old Hanson.