CHAPTER IX
TRAMPS
Of course the other girls laughed at Amy, as they usually did at her “imaginings.”
“Maybe it was a squirrel——” began Mollie.
“Planning to attack us from the rear,” finished Betty.
“Or perhaps it was only a cricket chirping in the tree,” drawled Grace, biting into her third sandwich with relish.
“Chumps, all of you,” said Amy, in mild disgust, while the girls giggled enjoyably. “You can make fun all you like, but I know I heard somebody.”
“Well, suppose you did?” asked Betty, easily. “Maybe some summer picnickers like ourselves, seeking a cozy spot wherein to dine.”
“Maybe,” said Amy, doubtfully, sticking to her point with unusual stubbornness. “But picnickers wouldn’t go sneaking around, spying on us, would they?”
“Oh, Amy dear, desist,” begged Grace, lazily. “We came here for lunch, not melodrama.”
“Well, have it your own way,” retorted Amy, feeling a bit abused by the general lack of belief. “But don’t be surprised if, when we get back to the water, we find the Gem gone.”