Miss Elting with her loaded revolver, Jane with her club, Harriet armed this time with a stout stick, sauntered forth to meet the newcomer. Jane had run to the dark side of the tent, thrusting her club across the corner ready to use it at the first indication of trouble. To her disgust, the farmer from whom she had obtained permission to make camp, now appeared on the scene.
“It’s all right, girls. This is the gentleman who let us make camp here,” called Jane.
“I just came over to tell you to take care of your fire. If it runs it’ll burn off the meadow, it being all fresh seeding there. I wouldn’t want to lose it,” hailed their visitor.
“Thank you for calling our attention to it. We are always careful of fire,” Miss Elting made reply.
“What was it I fell over when I came in here?” he asked, glancing about him. “You certainly look mighty comfortable here.”
The girls looked at each other and giggled.
“It was a little contrivance of one of our young women, so that we might be warned of the approach of strangers,” the guardian informed him. “You see, it warned us that some one was coming.”
“I guess you can take care of yourselves, all right. Is there anything you want? If there is, come over to the house. My wife is curious to see this outfit. Maybe she will come over in the morning.”
“Thank you very kindly for your interest,” answered the guardian. “We shall be breaking camp early in the morning.”
The farmer left. Harriet nodded to her companions.