"All right. I promise."
"Tho do I."
Peace had been declared, greatly to the relief of the rest of the party, who did not know to what lengths Tommy Thompson might go to pay the score she thought she had against the guide who had grinned at her on seeing her in an unpleasant predicament that afternoon.
The meal finished, Janus went away to secure fresh fuel for the fire, the girls in the meantime setting the camp to rights, which meant spreading the blankets for the night and clearing away the dishes.
"There is one advantage about this kind of living," observed Hazel; "we do not have any glassware to polish."
"Nor silver," added Margery.
Janus returned with an armful of wood. The fire was built up, flaring into the air just as Tommy uttered a scream. The scream was followed by a distant clatter.
The girls jumped. For a second they thought Grace had fallen over, but great was their relief to see her standing a few feet from the edge of the precipice trying to peer over.
"What is it, dear?" called the guardian.
"Oh, I lotht the frying pan," wailed Tommy.