"What?" said Roy.
"They say the first thing that comes into their heads."
"Impulsive, you mean," laughed Roy.
"Well, they're all right on good turns," said Tom.
"They don't have any good turns in the Camp Fire Girls," said Pee-wee.
"A girl might do a good turn and you'd never know anything about it," said Tom, significantly.
"Cracky," said Pee-wee, "she was tickled to get that bird back."
In a little while they were tramping along the main street of Nyack, heading for the lordly Hudson. It was almost twilight, the shops were shutting their doors, and as they came around the hill which brought them face to face with the river, the first crimson glow of sunset fell upon the rippling current. Across the wide expanse, which seemed the wider for the little winding stream they had so lately followed, the hills were already turning from green to gray and tiny lights were visible upon the rugged heights. A great white steamer with its light already burning was plowing majestically upstream and the little open craft at the shore rocked in the diminishing ripples which it sent across the water, as though bowing in humble obeisance to it.
"Gee, it's lonely, isn't it!" said Pee-wee.
"Not getting homesick, are you, kiddo?"