"You mean an epileptic fit. But you shouldn't joke about a serious matter like that," rebuked Miss Elting.
"I wathn't joking. He did. It wath Buthter who laughed. I didn't. But Buthter ith fat, you know. Fat folkth alwayth laugh when they thhouldn't. They thhake all over when they laugh. I'm glad I'm not fat like Buthter."
Margery's face was flushed and indignant. Her companions were laughing merrily at her expense. Harriet had gotten up and was removing her wet clothing. Miss Elting lifted Tommy, who also had sat down, and gave her a gentle push toward the dressing room.
"Take off your wet clothes and get on your kimono. Girls, you may as well prepare for bed, too. I don't believe we shall be troubled by pirates again this night," said the guardian, with a merry twinkle in her eyes. "You will not want to get up in the morning when you are called. I fear we are losing too much sleep these nights."
While they were preparing for bed Miss Elting took a final look at the camp of the Tramp Club. There was activity there, but not nearly so much of it as the last time she had examined the camp through her glasses. The guardian smiled grimly at thought of the surprise they had given those fun-loving boys. They had thought to make good their boast to get the better of the Meadow-Brook Girls, but had met an ignominious defeat.
"I should not be surprised to see that camp deserted to-morrow morning," mused Miss Elting. "I hope not. They are nice boys."
"Are they coming out again?" asked a voice at the guardian's side.
"No, Harriet. I think not. I am just taking a final look their way before retiring. Did we leave the pails and pans upstairs?"
"Yes. Shall I bring them down?"
"Oh, no. It is not necessary. Morning will be time enough. Now go to bed. We shall not be disturbed again to-night. Good night, girls. Sweet dreams."