“We won’t do even that if we have to chop cord wood to pay our way,” laughed Mrs. Vernon.
“Are there big trees on the mountain, Verny?” asked Betty.
“We girls thought it a great forest in those days. To us it seemed as if the trees were giants—but we had not seen the Redwoods of California then,” Mrs. Vernon chuckled as she spoke.
“What do you call it now?” asked Joan.
“This ridge has no individual name that I know of, but the range is an extension of those known by the name of Blue Mountains. The place I have in mind is one of the prettiest spots on this particular spur of hills. You will find forest trees, streams, pools for bathing, softest moss for carpets, flowers for study, wild woodland paths for hikes—in fact everything to rejoice a nature-lover’s heart.”
“Dear me, can’t you speed up a little?” asked Julie.
“No, don’t, Verny—we’ll land in jail if you go faster!” exclaimed Ruth.
“Let’s call this spur ‘Verny’s Mountain,’ shall we, girls?” suggested Betty.
“Yes, let’s!” abetted Joan.
The automobile rolled smoothly and swiftly along, and after the first excitement had abated somewhat, the girls begged their Captain to tell them how she had found the place and what they did at camp when she was a girl.