“When he draws pictures an’ sells ’em he is. When he don’t he don’t. Gimme some cake?”
Sandy was evidently quite calm about her way of living.
“She mayn’t need adopting, but she certainly needs reforming,” said Louise vigorously.
They were paddling past the Scouts’ camp by now. Louise was quite willing to go past softly, but Sandy yelled, for she saw Billy.
“Hello, girls!” he called. “Back already? Got all the papers signed?”
“No, I haven’t,” said Louise. “And, Billy, if you ask me any more questions, I’ll jump over and drown!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Camp Fire might all grin broadly whenever it spoke of Louise’s adoption—even more broadly than it had at Winona’s cat-collection: but the adoptee herself was quite serious about it. Adopted she was by the Camp Fire in general and Louise in particular, and adopted she meant to stay. She went home once in awhile—there was nobody to worry about her, it seemed, when she stayed away—but as a rule she considered herself a Camp Fire Girl. She was too young to be a Blue Bird, but that didn’t make any difference. Finally she was given the official position of third sub-mascot, ranking after Puppums and Hike the Camp Cat. Unofficially, she got better training than she appeared to have had for some time, for she knew that to stay in Camp she had to obey rules. Vicky never did come over. Once in awhile they would return Sandy to her home, just for politeness, but it didn’t seem to be specially required of them.
“We ought to have a grand entertainment,” declared Marie one day, “and invite all the summer people who bought our things.”
“Yes,” Louise approved, “and then, perhaps, if we made them happy, they’d buy some more.”