She ran off to get her First Aid kit out of her knapsack, and, coming back, presently had Florence bandaged up scientifically, and much impressed with the importance of what she had done.
“Will I have to be carried on a stretcher?” the little girl wanted to know.
“Not a bit of it,” said Mrs. Bryan briskly. “You will have to walk on your own two feet, like any other naughty little girl.”
“Oh, was I naughty?” said Florence cheerfully. “I forgot that!”
“Yes,” answered Mrs. Bryan, “you were very naughty. I think we shall have to confine you to camp for two days, when we get there.”
“All right,” said Florence complacently, “but now please can’t I be carried on a stretcher? I should think I might!”
“All right, let’s,” said Louise, who had come up along with the rest of the girls, in Mrs. Bryan’s wake. “Only remember, Florence Merriam, once you get up on that stretcher you have to stay there.”
“Of course!” said Florence indignantly.
By this time all the girls were clustered about the interesting invalid, and the stretcher idea struck them all as a very fine one. It would help them to put the Wood Craft they had been learning into practice. Winona picked up her gory penknife, and began to wash it in the brook before she started to cut wood with it.
“Oh,” said Florence plaintively, “I thought you’d always keep it that way, to remember me by!”