“She never will,” muttered Harriet.

The guardian and Harriet strolled slowly back toward the camp.  On the way there just at the edge of the camp they passed Patricia Scott.  The latter gave Harriet a contemptuous glance, then coolly ignored her nod which was more friendly than Patricia could have hoped for.  Miss Elting saw the hostile glance and the ignoring of Harriet’s nod.

“If that young woman were in my division I certainly should call her to account for that.  Doesn’t she like you?” questioned Miss Elting bending a keen look on her companion.

“She doesn’t seem to like me very well,” answered Harriet, then changing the subject she began discussing a tall tree that stood just in front of the tent occupied by the Chief Guardian.  It was one of those spindling pines that seem to pierce the sky.  Harriet asked the guardian if there were not great danger of its being struck by lightning.

Before Miss Elting could answer, the honk honk, honk of a motor car was heard nearing the camp.

Among the tall spruce trees they made out an automobile, that had left the log road and was being recklessly driven through the forest toward the camp.  It did not seem possible that the driver of the car could pursue such a perilous course without wrecking the automobile which was going far more rapidly than safety warranted.  There would be a brief hesitation as the front tires came in contact with a log, then the car would go over it with a bump and a bounce, and a triumphant honk, honk!

“Who can it be, Harriet?” cried Margery, who with Hazel had strolled out to meet Harriet and her guardian friend.

Just then the car lurched into the camp.  The driver put on more speed, the car circled about the camp a couple of times, then came to a halt in front of the row of tents.  There were a man and a young woman in the car.  The young woman jumped out and seeing Grace Thompson stared at her for a moment then throwing up her hands, uttered an Indian war whoop that brought out from their tents all those who had not been aroused by the honk of the motor car.

“It’s Crazy Jane,” cried Harriet.  “Look!  She has found Tommy.”

Jane had lifted little Tommy off her feet and was kissing her delightedly while Tommy lisped “Thave me, oh, thave me!” causing the other girls near at hand to laugh amusedly at the funny scene.

At that moment Crazy Jane catching sight of Harriet and her companions, bounded toward them.  Jane was bare-headed.  Her blonde hair was flying about her face and neck; her dress unprotected by a dust coat was covered with the gray dust of the highways, over which she had driven, and her whole appearance was disheveled and travel-stained.

Jane fairly flung herself into the arms of Harriet Burrell, giving her a hearty hug, then treating Margery, Hazel and Miss Elting to the same sort of greeting.

“Dad’s over there.  Come on and shake hands with him.  He’s going back shortly.  You can help me unload the car.  Oh, we’re going to have a great time, aren’t we darlin’s!”