“We’ve got hammer and nails and that’s heaps more than scouts generally have to start with,” said Mr. Doane.
“It seems to me that this is pretty much a boys’ party,” remarked Gloria. She had sprinkled the flowers with lake water, and refused to let Neddie feed the goat any more of their sweet-flag root. After all, it did seem that boys knew best how to have a good time in the woods.
“Why, Gloria!—” her father exclaimed under his breath. “Haven’t you been having a good time?”
“Oh, of course, daddy, but the boys have climbed trees—”
“I thought I saw you up a tree—”
“Oh, that! That was only a little birch, and Mildred wanted a big branch to chew on,” replied Gloria. She was sunburned from the water’s sun and her hair was flying wildly about her head. Her red sweater “had whiskers on it,” as some one had remarked, for briars and brambles can pull a sweater pretty well apart. Still, she must have enjoyed herself, although there was that far-away look in her dark eyes, and often when the others were too busy to notice, she would gaze steadily at her father and seem to study anew his loved personality.
Now the girls took exception to her complaint of the afternoon’s pleasure, and each tried to outdo the other in declaring they had had simply a wonderful time.
Getting the raft made and putting the surprised goat upon it caused considerable excitement. But it was finally accomplished, and when the last knot was tied as gently as Tom could tie it, and the little animal lay helpless, her full faun-colored length upon the rough woods’ timber, Gloria said it reminded her of the Bible pictures of Abraham’s sacrifice.
“All aboard!” called out Mr. Doane. “I’ve promised to get you youngsters home before supper time, and just look at that sun!”
“Couldn’t I get a couple more white stones?” begged Neddie.