“Now who’s bringing war into the party, I’d like to know?” asked Will, helping himself to his ninth biscuit.

“Goodness, that’s just the usual thing,” Betty explained, looking prettier, so Allen thought, than ever before with the background of lacy green to set off her bright coloring.  “If they don’t behave like that we know they’re sick or something.  Do have another biscuit, Roy.  Goodness,” and she stared round-eyed down into the empty space where the biscuits had been, “they’re every one gone!  Who did eat them all?”

“Well, you needn’t look at me,” said Frank in an aggrieved tone.  “Will’s the fellow you’ve got to watch.”

Will was about to utter some scathing retort when Grace, who had gotten up to shake the crumbs from her dress and had walked down toward the road, suddenly called to them.  It was such an excited, urgent call that they left everything and came running.

“What—­” began Betty.

“It was the motorcyclist!” cried Grace, her face flaming.  “I couldn’t have been mistaken, because I caught a good view of his face.”

“But what was he doing back here?” demanded Amy, while the rest stared at Grace excitedly.  “That’s only a rutty old wagon road, and—­”

“Well, he was bumping and bouncing like everything, and when he caught sight of me he sent his machine ahead so fast I thought surely he’d have a smash-up.”

“Wish he had,” said gentle Amy, and at the unusually vindictive expression on her face the others had to laugh.

“Well, there’s nothing more we can do now,” said Frank practically.  “Let’s go back and finish our lunch.  Probably,” he added, as they thoughtfully retraced their steps, “he took the wagon road for fear of running into one of you girls.”

“Big coward!” cried Betty, with clenched hands.  “I wish I had been with you, Grace, we might have stopped him.”

The boys shouted.

“Such a chance!” crowed Roy, but Betty turned on them with flashing eyes.

“Well, we might at least have tried,” she cried hotly.  “That is more than you boys would have done.  You don’t seem to be even interested,” she continued indignantly.  “If I were a man in uniform I’d show that coward that he can’t knock old helpless women down and then run away.  I’d show him that in insulting an old woman he was insulting the whole United States army—­”

“Hurrah!” cried Will irrepressibly, jumping to his feet.  “Now you’re talking, Betty.  How about it, fellows?  Shall we do as she says?”

“You bet we will!” they cried, and at the ring in their voices, even Betty’s ardent little heart was satisfied.

CHAPTER VII

A LARK IN THE OPEN

“Well, where do we go from here, boys?” asked Allen, lazily stretching out on the grass with a convenient, raised bank of moss for a pillow, while the girls repacked the depleted hampers.  “It’s such a wonderful day, and camp was never like this.”