When they were around the bend, safely out of sight of the camp, Winnie stopped rowing.
“I had an idea, too!” she said. “Reach under the seat, Louise.”
Louise pulled out, first, the luncheon she herself had poked under a little while before; next, a good-sized bundle that appeared to be clothes.
“What’s this for?” she asked.
“For us,” said Winona.
Louise opened it, and eyed its contents puzzledly. There were a dressing-sack made of bandanna handkerchiefs, partly ripped up, two old skirts, an old shawl and a checked gingham apron.
“They’re to dress up in,” explained Winona. “We’ll be poor little emigrant girls that want to sella da nice-a goods, lady! The women who go around selling things out of suitcases always have a foreign look. So I fished these out of the box of stuff we had for theatricals. I knew just where it was, because we got some things out of it for ‘Everygirl’ last week.”
“Oh, gorgeous!” cried Louise, finishing the ripping-up of the dressing-sack into its original red handkerchiefs. She dug through the pile again and picked out the shortest skirt, for she hadn’t her full growth yet. “Who gets the little checked shawl?” she asked.
“You do, if you want it,” answered Winona. “I’ll take the apron.”
They both turned in the collars of their middy blouses, and rolled the cuffs under. Skirts over them, a bandanna apiece round their necks, and the checked shawl over Louise’s head and a handkerchief on Winona’s—and they were very convincing emigrants.