“Hurrah! Now, all ready for three cheers for Mrs. Bentley!” shouted Julie, jumping upon the camp-stool and waving her hat.
Instantly the girls began a loud hurrah, but the folding chair suddenly shut up, with Julie frantically trying to balance herself. Before a second hurrah could have been given, Julie was sprawling across the camp table right on top of the hats, pans and what-not that had been accumulated to take to camp. Such a clatter of tins and wild screams of laughter that filled that tent!
Finally Julie emerged from the wreckage and stood up, tentatively feeling of her bones and head and body. “Am I all in one piece, girls?” she asked, trying to appear anxious.
“You are, but my hat isn’t!” retorted Joan, holding up a crushed straw sailor with the brim severed from the crown.
“I’ll have to work and buy you another,” said Julie.
“Please don’t! I despise sailors and had to wear this one because mother said I would need no new summer hat if I was in camp,” hastily explained Joan.
“Come, girls, we must indite that letter to Ruth’s mother now. Sit down quietly and suggest something fine,” interpolated Mrs. Vernon.
So the letter was composed and given to Ruth to deliver, then the last plans for leaving home were perfected, and the Patrol separated for the day.
Saturday found the girls again at Vernon’s place, eager to hear what day they were to start for camp. Everything that they had on their lists had been provided, and now the only thing to do was to say good-by and leave. This the girls felt could not be accomplished any too soon for their peace and comfort.
“Why, Verny, if we don’t get away in a day or so, those seven girls who are possessed to join us will steal us and hold us as hostages until you agree to take them in our Troop,” said Julie.