“Couldn’t we call?” suggested Wyn. “Mrs. Manton is always lovely to us, and if she has such a little cherub on her hands we ought to help her care for him.”
“Cherub, Wynnie! Why, we would have to get a cage for anything like that in this camp. He would be eaten by bugs, moths and beetles.” A dash at a flying thing confirmed this opinion from Treble.
“Now, if you all have finished your skylarking I would like to study,” announced Alma. “I have to learn all that new class lesson, and I hope to get out of the Tenderfoot tribe before next week. No fun swimming in a barrel.” She referred to the water restrictions of “Tenderfoots.”
“Hush girls! Alma is thinking,” joked Pell. “Please don’t interrupt the spell——”
Poor Alma could stand the teasing no longer. She picked up her manual and headed for the tent occupied by those very studious Scouts who chose the company of the leader to that of the distracting girls.
“Chickadees never scratch,” fired Betta as Alma stepped over protruding feet and reached the tent flap. “Now Chick-a-dee, Peep! Peep! Pretty for the ladies——”
But the girl with the manual was gone.
“What do you make of it?” asked Pell, when the titters subsided.
“She saw something different, that’s sure,” replied Treble.
“She told me all about it,” put in Thistle proudly. “And it was really a wonderful child all done up in black velvets and ribbons,” she declared.