“Good idea,” agreed Ned.  “Just run over, and do the asking.  I saw Tom cross the lawn a short time ago.  He is sure to stick close to Roland.”

One hour later the Fire Bird was “on the wing,” and in the car were the boys from The Cedars and their guests, two young men just home from college for the holidays.

“Whew!” whistled the handsome Roland as soon as the party got away from The Cedars.  “What a stunner your blonde cousin is, Ned!  Seems to me you might have prepared a fellow.  I almost had a spell when she came to greet me.”

Now, Ned White never relished hearing other fellows admire Dorothy.  It was a strange fact that while he knew Dorothy to be pretty he was never prepared to hear others say so.  Nat picked up the end of Roland’s remark.  He knew Ned would not say anything very agreeable to it.

“But what do you think of the other?” asked Nat.  “Now, I prefer the burnished type.”

“A tomboy, isn’t she?” ventured Tom, referring to Tavia.

“Oh, just a good fellow,” answered Nat.  “Always ready for a lark, if that’s what you mean.”

“Jolly!  I thought so,” responded Tom.  “Well, I do like a girl with some go in her, if she doesn’t happen to put all the go in my direction.”

“In other words,” assumed Nat, “you like the tomboy type—­in the abstract.”

“Guess that’s it,” answered Tom.  “But certainly those two girls are equal to putting you through a lively holiday.  Wish we had a pair like them down to The Elms for this spell.  Gee—­I just dread this Christmas stuff.  Aunts and uncles have my bedroom lined with ‘secret packages’ already.  I went on the ‘collar button crawl’ this morning, and nearly fainted when I saw the stuff under my bed.  Aunt Molly runs some kind of a charity jinks, you know, and she has picked out my room as the safest place to hide her trash.”

“Oh, yes,” remarked Ned, “I heard Dorothy say something about it yesterday.  Seems to me she said she was going to help.”

“Oh, then the stuff may remain under my bed,” quickly spoke Tom.  “If Miss Dorothy is interested—­so am I.”

“I had her first,” objected Roland, joking.  “I may buy a couple of rag dolls myself.  Does Miss Dorothy prefer the rag variety?”

Ned seemed all attention to the car.  Occasionally he turned to speak to Joe and Roger, but otherwise he took little part in his friends’ badinage.

“Where are you bound for?” asked Tom as Ned guided the Fire Bird into a narrow lane.

“We’ll try old Hemlock Grove first.  There should be plenty of green stuff there,” replied Ned.

“Yes, and if I mistake not,” added Nat, “there is in those woods a cabin—­old Hume’s place.  We may be able to lay out there for dinner.”

“Goody!” exclaimed Roger, whose eyes had been continually on the big basket of stuff which Norah, the good-natured cook at The Cedars, had put up for the boys.

“Right,” concluded Ned; “there’s a chimney and all.  Just the place for a layout.  Let me see, where did that shanty used to stand?”