“That’s a sign of my displeasure. Want any further signs? There are plenty of them left over yonder in the spring, if the ladies will kindly lend us the water pail.”
“No, no more signs,” replied Dill, backing away, laughing. “I would much prefer that you remain quiet. Be as silent as a clam, if you like. I’ll not criticise you.”
“I thought you wouldn’t like the sign language after you’d felt it,” snarled Sam.
“When did you say the tournament is to be held?” questioned Harriet mysteriously.
“Five weeks from to-day,” answered George Baker. “Why?” He was eyeing her almost suspiciously.
“We have been wanting something to do, something to occupy our time and keep us out of mischief, ever since we came up here to camp. I have been thinking it over, thinking of your thoughtfulness and kindness, and for your sakes, boys, I for one propose that we girls set to work and learn the game. We surely ought to be able to accomplish something in five weeks. Don’t you believe we can?”
“You—you—you mean that you will play in the tournament?”
Harriet nodded.
“Yeow!” howled Captain George Baker, at which his companions came running toward him. “They’re going to play, they’re going to play!” he shouted. “Hi-diddie-um-dum, hi-diddie-um-dum!” he sang, dancing about as though he had taken sudden leave of his senses.
“What do you say, girls?” questioned Harriet, glancing about at her companions.