"I—I'm sorry you did it, Dolly," said Eleanor, almost hysterically. She was trying to suppress the laughter that she was shaking with, but it was hard work. "Still, I don't believe I'll scold you very much. Now you've got even with them for all the things they've done—more than even, if the screams I heard mean anything. We didn't know what was up."
"Not exactly what was up," said Margery, who had overheard part of the conversation, "but we knew who was up as soon as we found you were gone, Dolly."
Margery looked at Miss Eleanor, then she choked, and left the porch hurriedly. And the next moment roars of laughter came from the other girls, as Margery told them the story.
"But I'm glad you've told me all about it, Dolly," said Eleanor. "I don't mind saying that I think you had a good deal of excuse—but do try to let things work out by themselves after this. The chances are you've only made them hate us more than ever, and they will feel that it's a point of honor now to get even with us for this. All the girls will have to suffer for what you did."
Even as she spoke, Bessie saw two or three figures approaching from the direction of the other camp, and a shrill voice was raised.
"There she is, Miss Brown. She's the one who's supposed to look after them."
Gladys Cooper was the speaker, but as soon as she saw Eleanor look around she dropped back, leaving a woman whose manner was timid and nervous, and whose voice showed that she had little spirit, to advance alone.
"Miss Mercer?" she said, inquiringly, to Eleanor. "I am Miss Brown, and I have been left in charge of Miss Halsted's Camp this summer while she is away. She is ill. I am one of the teachers in her school—"
"Sit down, Miss Brown," said Eleanor, kindly. One look at poor Miss Brown explained the conduct of the girls in her care. She was one of those timid, nervous women who can never be expected to control anyone, much less a group of healthy, mischievous girls in need of a strong, restraining hand.
"I'm—really very sorry—I don't like—but I feel it is my duty—to speak to you, Miss Mercer," stammered Miss Brown. "The fact is—the young ladies seem to think it was one of your Camp Fire Girls who let loose a—number of mice in our boathouse this evening."