Crowds of curious gathered early, and in general terms business was suspended in favor of sight-seeing. But it was among the campers that the greatest damage had been done, and Camp Norm was not alone in blowing away in the tempest.
Those who sought shelter in Camp Comalong were up and out early, and the Bobbies were not long in following.
“Poor old Norm,” sighed Bubbles. “We will now be sure to fall to sub-norm, for never again can we claim to be normal.”
A camp untented after a downpour of rain is about as forlorn a sight as can be imagined, and it was such a spectacle as this that confronted the Norms on the bleakish early morning.
Wet! Wetter! Wettest!
The trees still rained; the grass emitted a hissing moisture, the air was as wet as if the rain had anchored in it, and never was there a more unhappy looking crowd than the unroofed campers of Lake Hocomo.
“Weren’t we lucky?” said Julia. “Just see how everyone has had something damaged and we never lost a thing but a couple of tree boxes.”
“And the curtains off the sideboard,” added Grace. “But they were going anyhow, I caught my heel in one yesterday.”
Everyone helped everyone get things back where they belonged, and by noon the Norm girls had succeeded in reclaiming the truant canvas and stretching it again over their summer belongings. Many things were irreparably damaged, for even good, strong boxes could not stand the elements when they “elemented” at last night’s pace.
But the excitement added zest to their spirit, and hither and thither went the Bobbies like a little band of rescuers, carrying and toting for the victims quite like the workers in more seriously stricken zones.