With summer had come the release from her promise.
These days of camping in the woods with the other Girl Scouts recalled the enchanting months outdoors she had spent with her father. Every green tree outlined against the summer sky, their canoes on the lake before the camping grounds, the Girl Scouts at work or at play, all were pictures Tory longed to transfer to line and color.
Until to-day the business of getting settled at their summer camp had left scant opportunity for artistic effort outside the camping arrangements.
Tory picked up the pile of sketches on the ground beside her. She studied each one carefully and then tossed it into the fire.
Her present work was valueless; she had become so hopelessly out of practice.
Finally her eyes rested on a single sheet of drawing paper. On the instant her expression altered. This sketch was not without worth. She had drawn it with pastels and in the light from the camp fire. The lines were crude and the colors too vivid, but it showed the figure of a girl lying on the ground, her eyelids closed, her figure expressing a curious quiet.
The lower part of the body was covered.
At present Tory Drew was without the khaki coat which she had worn earlier in the day. Beside the figure the smoke and flame of the camp fire formed light and shadow.
Tory sighed.
“At least this will serve for our camp log! The other girls can see how Kara looked during this interminable night. She will be able to write the account of her fall. I remember that I was diligently at work upon an impossible drawing of a line of hills when I heard the noise of a landslide. There was a sound of earth and rocks being torn from their foundation and tumbling and sliding down an embankment. I scarcely looked up. Kara had disappeared for a walk, so there was no one to whom I might mention the fact. Certainly I had no thought of associating the noise with her.”