“You’ll have to get in training for tramps if you are going to be a Camp Fire Girl,” Anne taunted gaily.
Laura’s eyes brightened as she entered the big dining-room with its canvas sides rolled high.
“Just in time,” Anne said, as she pulled out a chair for Laura and slipped into the next one herself.
The meal was cheerful, almost hilarious. “Mrs. Royall believes in laughter. She never checks the girls unless it’s really necessary,” Anne explained under cover of the merry chatter. “She——”
But Laura interrupted her. “O Anne, that must be Olga—the dark still girl, at the end of the next table, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and Myra Karr is next to her. All at that table belong to the Busy Corner Camp Fire.”
After breakfast Laura again paddled off to the yacht with Anne. It did not require much coaxing to secure her father’s permission for her to spend a month at the camp with Anne Wentworth and Mrs. Royall. He kept the girls on the yacht for luncheon, and after that they went back to camp, a couple of sailors following in another boat with Laura’s luggage.
“How still it is—I don’t hear a sound,” Laura said wonderingly, as she and her friend approached the camp through the pines.
Anne listened, looking a little perplexed, as they came out into the camp and found it quite deserted—not a girl anywhere in sight.
“I’ll go and find out where everybody is,” she said. “I see some one moving in the kitchen. The cook must be there.”