The next moment she had shot across the campus, for she had spied a white paper fastened to one of the larger tents, directly under the glare of the lantern above the door.
“Hurrah! we’re in luck,” she cried, wildly jubilant, pointing to the white paper as Nathalie reached her side. “Read that!” The girl stepped closer and slowly deciphered from the big black letters in charcoal print:
| “Have gone to the Scout Council at the rooms of the Wolf Patrol at Boonton. “G. A. Homer, Scoutmaster.” |
“But that does not help us any!” Nathalie said when she finished reading the notice, her face losing its eagerness as she faced her companion.
“Indeed it does, goosie,” replied Lillie stoutly, “for the doctor has a wireless. So have the scouts at Boonton, for I heard one of the boys tell of a message one of them had picked up the other night, the night we had that awful thunder storm, don’t you remember? So don’t say we’re not lucky, Nathalie Page, after finding that note. I’ll warrant you, though, that some of the scouts did go on a tramp, and that the doctor left that word in case they returned before he did. But let’s look for that wireless!”
Surmising that the tent with the note pinned on the flap must be Dr. Homer’s, the girls hastened in, and by the light from the lantern which Nathalie had taken from the pole by standing on a couple of soap-boxes she had found, it was soon discovered on a roughly-hewn table in a corner of the tent.
This time the wireless key did its work; there was a sharp crack, the amateur wireless operator had clicked off the R. Z., the camp’s private call, and then with palpitating heart and expectant eyes sat waiting to see if it had been picked up. Suddenly her face broke into a smile, for as she “listened in,” she caught the wireless O. K. G. (go ahead). She went ahead, and in a few moments had made the operator at the Patrol rooms understand that Dr. Homer was wanted. There was a moment’s delay, and then the doctor himself was sending a message through the air. It took but a short space of time for Nathalie to click off why he was wanted, and how the girls had come to wire him from the scout camp.
“Now let’s make tracks for home,” said Lillie as Nathalie hung up the lantern on the pole again. “I am afraid it may rain, for I thought I heard thunder.” But she must have been mistaken, for not a cloud disturbed the soft silver haze that guided them across the Lake to Camp Laff-a-Lot.
“Dear me,” ejaculated Nathalie an hour later as she and Helen were undressing for bed, “what a lot of things have happened in the two weeks we have been at camp! But how glad I am that Dr. Homer got here in time, and that the baby is all right.”
“Well, it ought to be, with two doctors on the job,” retorted Helen with her usual bluntness. “Isn’t that old Dr. McGill jolly?”