“She must have been queer herself,” retorted Alma. “I had those wild ideas, too, until I joined the Scouts. That’s the reason Mother had me join. She said I was too much alone——”
It was difficult to talk while hurrying over newly-cut stumps with which the field was so thickly strewn. The surveyor’s men had hewn many a fine young birch and numbers of ambitious young maples there, for this was one of the forests lately cleared.
“Here come the girls,” exclaimed Nora, as they looked down the road. “Alma, promise not to say a single word——”
“Why, Nora Blair! As if I would divulge a secret——”
“Excuse me, Alma. I did not mean just that. But when one does not realize the importance——”
“I do realize it. But it’s all right, Nora. I know just how you feel,” conceded Alma, amiably. “There. I have to go with Pell to get some grasses from the Ledge. I’m sorry I can’t walk home with you. You don’t mind——”
“Not in the least, Alma. I was just jumpy while we talked—that way. Besides, I always have Cap. Good bye. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Won’t you wait for the girls?”
“I’m afraid if I do I’ll stay talking. Hello,” she called out as Pell and Thistle came up. “Alma and I have had such a lovely time out in the oak woods I am late for my—chores,” she finished, laughing.
“What do you chore, Nora?” asked Pell. Her face was beaming with the health of camp life and her voice vibrated youth and happiness.