“I wonder!” said Louise, pulling a thick red pig-tail around in order to nibble its end thoughtfully. She had a habit of gnawing at her hair when she thought hard. “What about Cribb’s Creek?”
“That’s too near,” Winnie opposed.
“Well, where did the Boy Scouts go last year?”
“Up on Wampoag River, a little way below Wampoag,” said Winona. “They said it was a cinch, because they could sell all the fish they caught to the Wampoag hotel-keepers, and get things they needed, and yet it was just as wild as it could be if you went a little way along the river.”
Wampoag was a summer resort not far from them.
“Well, how far’s that?” asked Louise.
“About ten miles to the boys’ camp,” answered Winona. “But there would be plenty of good camping-ground nearer home, and quite close to that little village—what’s its name?”
“Green’s Corners,” supplied Louise.
“I wonder who Green was, and if he really did have corners,” Winona thoughtfully remarked.
Louise giggled. “He was a square man, I suppose,” she said, and Winnie gave her a shove. “Oh, don’t!” she said. “That’s an awful pun.”