“That is what I call great,” cried Harriet, rising dripping to the bank after Miss Elting had called to the two girls to come out of the water. “I could almost eat another meal after that bath.”
“Tho could I,” piped Tommy, thrusting her head out from the tent flap.
The two girls and the guardian ran laughing to the tent, where, greatly refreshed by their cold plunge, they changed their wet bathing suits for dry clothing.
Now fresh fuel was piled on the camp fire. The flames blazed high and the smoke curled skyward in the still, clear evening air. Harriet and Hazel were capering about the fire, holding an impromptu war dance. Tommy was standing near one corner of the tent watching the performance, when, thinking she had heard a sound behind her, she turned apprehensively.
For one horrified moment Tommy Thompson gazed, then with a yell of terror sprang for the tent.
“Thave me! Oh, thave me!” she screamed.
“What is it?” cried Harriet and Miss Elting, rushing toward her. Then they, too, halted, gazing into the deepening shadows that enveloped the rear of the tent. Margery had caught sight of the object that had sent Tommy into an agony of terror. Margery had thrown herself headlong into the tent screaming wildly. Hazel, Miss Elting and Harriet stood their ground.
CHAPTER VI—THE CALL OF THE DANCING BEAR
“A bear! A bear! Thave me!” came Tommy’s wailing voice from the interior of the tent.
“Be quiet!” commanded Miss Elting.