It was not yet dark and the two Bobbies started off on a merry chase, as usual. Near the cabin they met Shag, the big collie, and he made friends promptly, perhaps because they wore the same sort of brownish outfit his own mistress was usually dressed in.
“Shall we go right up and knock?” deliberated Cleo. Now that they faced the cabin they faced also its restrictions.
“No,” reflected Grace. “We had better call.”
Suiting the words to action she cupped her hands and “Whoo-hooed” once or twice; then waited.
No answer.
“Call, use her name,” suggested Cleo, leaving the duty to Grace.
“Peg! Peg-gee!” called Grace. “Hey—oh! Peg!” she trilled in a curly sort of call.
Shag seemed restless now and his manner was less confident. He didn’t wag so enthusiastically, but instead sniffed with suspicion.
Finally the cabin door opened and Peg appeared. She hurried down and met the girls where they waited.
“We came to bring you over to our first campfire,” Grace almost spluttered. She was excited and in a hurry to return to camp before the night should overtake them.