The new guide wrinkled his forehead in thought.
“How does the Mammoth Springs in the morning strike you folks, then the geysers, and so on through?”
Tom Gray said that was in accordance with the plans already in mind.
“Got permits for the Park?” asked the guide.
“Not yet,” replied Hippy.
“Then you got to go to the office in the mornin’ and git them. You all have to register, you know.”
They did not know of this regulation for campers, though supposing that some sort of requirements were demanded of outfits such as theirs.
The party now sat down by the fire to discuss the Park and the features that they wished to see. Badger sat hunched down before the blaze, furtively studying his new charges. This, of course, he had a right to do, and perhaps it was proper that he should. He, in turn, was closely observed by the Overlanders themselves. Badger was a slight, wiry fellow, keen-eyed and observant, as the Overlanders soon discovered, and somehow the girls of the party were not thoroughly at their ease under his observation. They were therefore somewhat relieved when Hippy took the guide out to show him their equipment and give Badger a line on their way of doing things. The guide quickly discovered that the Overland Riders were fully as well-informed on camp life in the woods or mountains as he himself was. Still, there were some features about these seasoned young people that he had yet to learn.
The party chatted until late in the evening, then turned in with the moon shining down on their little tents, happy to be once more close to nature, and anticipating a peaceful night’s sleep in the open. A rude awakening awaited them, however, and, as usual, Stacy Brown was to be the moving cause of the disturbance.