"Come away," said Allen. "You can't blame them for doing just what we have done for the last two years," he added, dryly.
"Here we are, almost ashore," cried Amy, a little later. "Have you got the list of the things we need, Allen? Let's see—butter and sugar and baking powder and eggs and—oh, we mustn't forget the meat."
"Chocolates," murmured Grace.
"Don't worry so soon, Amy," laughed Will. "There will be plenty of time for that when we get back to the island and find that we have forgotten half the things."
"Well, if we think of them now," said usually quiet Amy, "there won't be any excuse for our forgetting them later."
"Well, but perhaps we shall need an excuse," reasoned Will. "You would never make a good diplomat, Amy."
Betty put her arm protectingly around the younger girl. "There is no reason why you should want to be that, is there?" she questioned. "Amy thinks that as long as she feeds you boys well there is no need of——"
"Oh, Betty, do stop," begged Amy, her face flushing scarlet. "It isn't fair."
"I know it," said Betty soothingly, while the boys looked on, curious to know the meaning of this mystery. "I won't do it again, dear, I promise."
"I wish you would tell us——" Allen began, but once more Mollie interrupted.