“May I try the car, Dad?” questioned Jane.

“Yes.  But look sharp that you don’t wreck the thing.  I have no fancy to walk all the way back to Portsmouth this evening,” he chuckled.

“Come along, Meadow-Brooks.  I can’t take any more this trip, but if Dad’s buggy goes all right, I’ll take the rest of you out on the instalment plan.”

“I don’t want to go,” decided Tommy.  “I want to thtay here and retht.  I never get any retht at all.”

The others were eager to go.  Jane already was cranking up the car.  Her companions, with the exception of Grace Thompson, piled in, and a few moments later the car rolled from the camp, headed for the highway some little distance from the camp.  There was no road leading to the camp, but the way was reasonably smooth, provided one dodged the trees, both standing and fallen.

In the meantime the other girls went about their duties and recreations.  Mr. McCarthy and Mrs. Livingston again sat down and continued their conversation.  Tommy, now being without a guardian, Miss Elting having gone with Jane and her party, started down toward the beach, her eyes very bright, her movements quick and alert.  Some of the girls whom she met asked where she was going.  Tommy replied that she might go fishing, but that she couldn’t say for sure until she found out whether she could catch anything.  The little girl kept edging farther and farther away from her companions, until finally, finding herself beyond sight of them, began running with all her might.  They saw no more of Tommy Thompson for several hours.

While all this was going on, Jane McCarthy was racing her father’s car up and down the road at an ever-increasing rate of speed.  Those in the camp could hear the purr of the motors, and now and then a flash of red showed between the trees as the car sped past the camp.

“Must be doing close to fifty miles an hour,” observed Mr. McCarthy, grinning.

“Aren’t you afraid she will kill herself, or some one else?” questioned the guardian anxiously.

“She never has.  I don’t reckon it would bother any of the Meadow-Brook Girls to go into the ditch.  They are pretty well used to getting into mix-ups.”

“They certainly have every reason to be used to it,” nodded Mrs. Livingston reflectively.  “But, were they my daughters, I must confess I should not know an easy moment.  I do not, as it is, when they are out of my sight.  That was the reason I hesitated to accede to your request.  However, they will have nothing to do with the operation of it.  All they will have to do will be to sit still and enjoy themselves.  Then, again, it is the one thing needful to make a summer at the sea shore thoroughly enjoyable.  I know that all of my girls will take the keenest possible delight in it, and I thank you, on their behalf, for your thoughtfulness and kindness.  You have done a great deal for our camp, as well as for our organization, and I wish you would permit me to make it known to the general officers in—­”