Betty sat up, startled. The next moment she was briskly gathering together the remains of the lunch.
“What’s the great hurry?” protested Grace. “Here, come back with that sandwich, Betty Nelson. It’s only half eaten.”
“Your hard luck, old dear,” said Betty, unfeelingly, adding, as she scrambled to her feet and brushed away the remaining crumbs: “I don’t know whether Amy was dreaming or not, but I’ve got a hankering to get back to the Gem, all the same.”
Mollie got to her feet, eyeing the Little Captain curiously.
“Amy got you scared?” she queried.
“Not scared—just curious,” retorted Betty, as she led the way back toward the spot where they had left the motor boat.
Amy and Mollie followed close behind her, leaving Grace to arrange her hair with the aid of a tiny mirror she always managed to have somewhere about her person.
So it came to pass that, a few seconds later, she was startled by the sound of voices lifted angrily. She scrambled to her feet, thrust the mirror hastily into the pocket of her jacket, and made after the girls.
“PLEASE GET OUT OF OUR BOAT,” SAID BETTY.
The Outdoor Girls Around the Campfire. Page 71