It was ten o’clock when the Tramp Club said good night and set out for their own camp.
“Now, children, go to bed at once,” directed the guardian. “We have had excitement enough for one day at least.”
The girls agreed with her, and half an hour later the camp had settled down for the night.
CHAPTER XI—A CONTEST OF ENDURANCE
“Forty-nine blue bottleth were hanging on the wall,” muttered Tommy in her sleep, as Miss Elting and Harriet stepped into their tent at eight o’clock the next morning, after having finished their inspection of the camp. The rest of the Meadow-Brook Girls were still sleeping soundly.
“Poor Tommy,” smiled the guardian.
“What is Tommy muttering about forty-nine blue bottles?” questioned Harriet.
The guardian laughed merrily.
“I had the girls say that doggerel about the forty-nine blue bottles while we were stuck fast in the mud. You see, I wished to keep their minds from their troubles. We repeated the song until we were so hoarse we could scarcely speak.”
“I noticed that when I returned, but thought you had all caught cold. So it was forty-nine blue bottles that made you so hoarse,” laughed Harriet. “I think you deserve the real credit of the rescue. Had you not done what you did to keep up the spirits of the girls there might have been a different ending,” declared Harriet Burrell with emphasis. She kissed the guardian impulsively, than stepping softly, to avoid waking her sleeping companions, she made her way outside the tent. Shading her eyes and gazing about she finally discovered a brown-clad figure sitting on a fence. He evidently was observing the camp, for, when he caught sight of Harriet, he waved his hand.