Swinging her feet to the canvas floor, she pulled away the curtain to peer at her father’s cot. It was empty.
“Guess I’ve overslept,” she thought. “Hope Dad’s started breakfast.”
Penny dressed quickly, cringing as she pulled on damp shirt and shorts. Dew lay heavy upon the tent and the grass outside was saturated. She walked gingerly as she picked her way toward the parked car.
Mr. Parker had set up a portable table nearby and was tinkering with the gasoline stove. He was unshaven and looked very much out of sorts.
“Hi, Dad!” Penny greeted him with as much cheer as she could muster. “What are we having for breakfast?”
“Nothing, so far as I can see! This stove is on strike again. I’ve tried for half an hour to get it started.”
Penny climbed into the car to use the mirror. The sight of her face horrified her. One cheek was blotched with ugly red mosquito bites, there were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair hung in strings.
“If anyone ever gets me on another camping trip I’ll be surprised!” Mr. Parker exclaimed. He slammed the stove down on the table. “I’m through monkeying with this contrary beast!”
“Oh, Dad, such a temper,” Penny chided, giggling despite her own discouragement.
“Suppose you suggest how we’re to eat.”