“Don’t get in the way of the men,” advised Billy Burgess. “They have a big morning’s work ahead of them, and any one who gets in their way is likely to be run over and perhaps hurt.”
“I gueth they better not run over me,” warned Tommy. “I’d jutht like to thee them try to run over Tommy Thompthon.”
The camp already looked very much as though a tornado had passed over it. The belongings of the Meadow-Brook Girls lay strewn about the camp, the tent was flat on the ground, the fire had been kicked aside and the cooking utensils dragged out to cool off preparatory to packing them. Miss Elting gazed at the bold lads smilingly. Harriet had sat down and was laughing heartily. Margery was too angry to speak for a time, after having been assisted from the collapsed tent by Davy Dockrill.
“Would it be proper to ask where we are going?” questioned Harriet, after she had succeeded in controlling her merriment.
“You are going to a new camp, Miss Burrell, and you’re going to get the surprise of your young life,” answered Captain George.
“I am beginning to think that surprise is a joke, Captain.”
“You’ll find it isn’t. Oh, you girls will be beside yourselves with joy and sheer delight when you hear about it,” chuckled Sam.
“Provided we are not old ladies by that time and unable to walk without crutches on account of our rheumatic joints,” retorted Harriet mischievously.
“I think you should tell us before we shift our camp,” suggested Miss Elting almost severely.
“You are not moving your camp, we’re moving it for you, begging your pardon for contradicting you,” answered George, touching his hat to the guardian. “I’ll tell you before we go.”