“Welcome!” she called out. “We have all been wondering why no Girl Scouts came up to our hills, and now our wonder is answered. Here you are!”
“Yes,” admitted Corene, trying to straighten out a very badly wrinkled blouse. “We are just a junior troop, we organized ourselves, you know,” she finished frankly.
“How could you do that?” questioned the young lady, seating herself on the biggest and flattest camp-stump. It was regarded as a regular seat, of course.
“Oh, we are all Scouts at home, you know, and we understand all the—qualifications,” Corene hesitated at this word, fearful of an accusing glance from someone who might call it a bit big for a junior to use.
“But have you no leader? No director nor counsellor?” queried the stranger.
“I have just come from a big camp,” said the little Corene, a bit uncertainly.
A rather critical look was swept over the Bobbie at that statement.
“Yet you are too young to be a leader,” pressed the tall girl.
“I’m fifteen, but we hadn’t quite finished all our plans yet,” admitted the spokesman.
“We have grown up sisters,” tossed in Grace.