“What ever can she be doing away up there?” repeated Isabel.
“Exploring, perhaps,” guessed Julia, “but she has to leave her horse so far away. See, there he is.”
“And look,” again indicated Louise, “there is her aunt over under that tree, reading. She hasn’t seen us yet.”
“Perhaps we can get them to join our picnic,” exclaimed Grace. She was unusually anxious to speak with Peg.
[CHAPTER XVII—THE GRANITE STAR CLUE]
Sightseeing was forgotten now and general interest centered on Peg and her Aunt Carrie. This lady, as usual, was delighted to meet the Scouts, and talked freely to Miss Mackin of her hope that Peggie should “mingle more” with the campers. Peg, herself, had come down from the rock and out of the ravine, disheveled, untidy and plainly tired.
“You simply must join our picnic,” gushed Louise. “It seems like the best of luck that we should have come up here.”
Peg smiled and frowned alternately. She noticed her aunt was already under the influence of a sandwich. It was a good fat one, with green lettuce fringe and it came from Cleo’s kit.
“I’ll be back in a moment. I must attend to Whirlwind,” said Peg. The girls saw now she had pockets in that big leather apron, and they bulged out—perhaps with some mountain souvenirs.
Grace attempted to follow Peg, going toward the horse under a big tamarack tree, but the girl was evidently unconscious of this attention, and as she hurried off, Grace, after a few steps of uncertainty, turned back and flopped down on the edge of the circle of picnic makers.