CHAPTER XVI
THE SIMPLEST SOLUTION OF AN ANCIENT PROBLEM
In the silence befitting such an extraordinary occasion the company formed a circle about the camp-fire.
Presently Professor Rawson looked sharply at the damp dragon. "Child!" she exclaimed, "you ought to take that off this instant!"
"But—but I haven't very much on," protested Molly Sandys with a shiver. "I'm only dressed as a—a page."
"It can't be helped," retorted the professor with decision; "that dragon is nothing but soaking pulp except where the tail is on fire!"
Ellis hastily set his foot on the sparks, just as Molly Sandys jumped. There was a tearing, ripping sound, a stifled scream, and three-quarters of a page in blue satin and lisle thread, wearing the head and shoulders of a dragon, shrank down behind Professor Rawson's poncho-draped figure.
"Here's my poncho," cried Ellis, hastily; "I am awfully sorry I ripped your gown—I mean your pasteboard tail—but you switched it into the fire and it was burning."
"Have you something for me?" inquired Miss Gay, coloring, but calm; "I'm not very comfortable, either."