“Right—oh, little one!” he cried. “Shall we all go down to-night?”
The hotel was about a mile from the Mountain View property, and was quite a well-known hostelry, though the season was not yet in full swing.
“Some other night,” suggested Cora. “We haven’t really gotten settled yet, and we don’t know what time Mrs. Floyd will come back. Besides, do they let any others than guests and their friends dance?”
“Oh, I guess so,” said Walter. “We’ll find out. But if you don’t want to go to-night we’ll wait.”
This was agreed to, and the rest of the day was spent on the part of the girls in getting their rooms in order, putting away their dresses and arranging for supper, for they were going to do much of their own work in camp, Mrs. Floyd being more of a chaperon and general manager than housekeeper or cook.
The boys said they would shift for themselves.
“Aren’t you going to get your suppers?” asked Cora of her brother, as she saw him and his two chums going down the road about five o’clock in the afternoon.
“Later,” he answered. “We’re going for the mail now. It gets in about this time, and Walter is expecting a letter.”
“No more than you are!” was the quick retort.
“Bring us all one!” called Bess. “Does the mail really come up here?”