“There is the camp, girls,” cried the latter some thirty minutes later as a second glow off to the left attracted her attention.  “I am right, am I not, Jasper?”

Jasper grunted an affirmative, then led the way to Mrs. Livingston’s tent, at Miss Elting’s direction.  It was the only tent with a light to be seen.  The other tents were lost in the shadows of the forest, and the girls who were occupying them were lost in dreamland.

“Keep very quiet so you will not awaken any one,” cautioned the guardian as they approached the Chief Guardian’s tent, rapping gently on the tent pole.  The flap was drawn quickly back.  Mrs. Livingston welcomed the wanderers warmly.

The camp life of the Meadow-Brook Girls had really begun.  Its activities and excitement were to begin within a few hours from the time of their arrival.

CHAPTER VI

TAKING THEIR FIRST DEGREE

“But my dears,” cried Mrs. Livingston, a sweet-faced, motherly woman.  “What could have occurred?”

It was not strange that she should express amazement, for the condition of the clothes of the Meadow-Brook Girls would have attracted attention anywhere.  She stood back surveying them anxiously.  All were more or less disheveled.  Tommy’s blonde hair had fallen about her shoulders in tangled locks; Margery had burst most of the buttons off her blouse when she fell over Jasper; Harriet’s blue gingham frock had been sadly demolished on her journey at the end of the rein behind the frightened horse; Hazel found difficulty in keeping her hair out of her face; besides which, both she and Miss Elting looked tired and worn.

“We had an accident,” explained Miss Elting.  “But we overcame all difficulties finally.”

“I’m the only one that wath overcome,” lisped Grace.  “It wathn’t the difficultieth, it wath mythelf.  And, Mithith Livingthton, Harriet pulled out some of Jathperth whithkerth.  Wathn’t that funny?”

“You had better leave the explanation to me,” suggested Miss Elting, who then went on to explain what had occurred on their journey to the Pocono Woods, Mrs. Livingston listening with wide open eyes.

“Oh, I am so sorry, my dears,” comforted the elderly woman after having heard the story of their experiences.  “But you surely did show pluck.  That is proper.  A Camp Girl must be resourceful and brave under all circumstances.”

“Yeth ma’am.  Pleathe tell that to Buthter.  She ith a ’fraid cat.”

“My dear Miss Thompson, that is not the way a Camp Girl should speak of any of her companions.  However, I will forgive you this time.  Are you hungry?  You must be after that long walk.”

“We had a light luncheon on the way out,” answered Miss Elting.

“All of you come with me to the cook tent at once.  But I warn, you it will be a luncheon of such as we can put our hands on.  I do not wish to wake the workers at this hour.”