"Leave her at home, then; girls are no good anyway," said Tom, rudely; then remembering himself, he added, "I beg your pardon, Miss Cassie, I didn't mean exactly that, but you know girls always give out on an expedition of this sort."
"Just you try me," said Cassie, not in the least put out, for she was accustomed to boys.
"Well," said Tom, reluctantly, "I suppose we must. But you will be fagged out in less than no time, and then you'll want one of us to go home with you."
"If I do I'll promise not to go again all summer. What are you looking for, Stanton?"
"My axe, to blaze the trees; you don't want to be lost, do you?"
"No, of course I don't. Then you will take me? Good. I'll go after the basket, and my pressing-book for ferns. Shall I get anything to read?"
"No. Who wants to read in the woods? There's always lots to do."
Cassie thought differently, and slipped a little thin volume beside the bread and cake and fruit which the housekeeper gave her.
The boys meanwhile had whittled three fresh sticks, and attached their knives and drinking cups. Their object was to explore a certain fastness of the woods which had no road through it, and to reach a mountain-top, the crags of which had seemed to look with scorn upon them all summer.
Tom was very much vexed that Cassie had heard their desire and shared it, and he was not disposed to be at all gallant. Stanton, being fond of his sister, was more concerned lest she should be, as he phrased it, "fagged out." So for a while their walk was a silent one.