“Hm—m—m—m!” mused the World-war veteran.
The rest of the night was passed by the campers with some discomfort, but without further disturbance, the tops of the mountains being hidden from sight by the cloud fog until the morning sun cleared away the mists, when a glorious day was in prospect.
“No cliff-dwelling explorations to-day, girls!” cried Elfreda next morning. “We shall have to do our family washing and ironing this morning.”
“If we do I know of one who will have to stay in bed during the process,” piped Emma. “I haven’t been able to find my everyday skirt, and I suppose that too has been blown off into the canyon, perhaps to keep my black silk company.”
Soon after breakfast, Colonel and Mrs. Cartwright came over, they having been much concerned for their friends upon learning that a severe mountain storm had swept the valley in the night. The colonel urged all hands to have dinner with him at the Lodge, but the girls declined, saying that they had work for every minute of the day, so their guests left after obtaining a promise from Grace that she and her friends would attend the dance at the Lodge that evening.
“I have an idea, and to-morrow I shall try to put it to the test,” murmured Grace, using her glasses in a long, searching study of the mountains to the rear of the camp.
It was a hard day’s work that the Overland girls did, but when night came they were ready for the entertainment at the Lodge, and were as well groomed as though they had but just come from their own dressing rooms at home.
“I do not know how you do it. It is wonderful,” exclaimed Miss Cartwright in greeting to the Overlanders upon their arrival at the Lodge.
The dance lasted until half after eleven o’clock, and the girls declared that they had not had such a delightful evening since their last hop at Overton College.
“Come out and get shotted with us,” urged Emma Dean as they were about to take their departure for the camp.