“Lovely,” said Mollie, adding with a chuckle: “Now Grace can take her comfort.”
“Funny Will didn’t say anything to me about buying air mattresses,” said Grace, resentfully. Worshiping her brother as she did, Grace had always been a little jealous of his affection for quiet Amy. “He might have told me,” she added.
“They’ll be just the thing, anyway,” said Betty, enthusiastically. “I’ve heard those air mattresses are as soft as down.”
“Anything would be better than what we had last night,” agreed Mollie. “But go on, Betty. You and Amy, say, go back to Deepdale for a tent; and then what do Grace and I do?”
“Nothing, I guess,” dimpled Betty, “except see that the lake doesn’t run away while we’re gone. We may be away over night,” she added, more soberly. “If we can’t get in touch with the boys right away, we might be too late to make camp again before dark. You wouldn’t be scared?” she asked.
“Scared!” Mollie hooted the idea scornfully. “What’s there to be scared of? You go ahead, Betty. You needn’t worry about us.”
“Better leave us that fake gun of yours,” Grace suggested as, a little while later, Betty and Amy started off toward the Gem. “We might need it.”
Betty laughed and, taking the weapon from her pocket where it had reposed all night, flung it toward Grace.
“Here’s good luck to you,” she cried. “And I hope you won’t need it.”
“Ditto,” cried Grace, as she pocketed the realistic looking toy.