“What will he say when he learns of the accident, Jane?” questioned Harriet.

“Say?  He will say it served the old car right for being such a fool.  My dad has common sense.  He will have another car up here for us just as soon as he can get one here.  By the way, Miss Elting, how much farther do we have to go?”

“I don’t know, Jane.  I hope it isn’t much farther.  How far do you think we traveled after meeting the man?”

“Five miles, I should say.”

“And he told us that the third turn-off would lead us to Lonesome Cove, did he not?”

“He did, but he made a mistake.  This is Wet Cove.”

“And a lonesome one, too, even if it isn’t the Lonesome one,” chuckled Harriet.

“Then we cannot be so very far from our destination.  I am sure this isn’t the place.  We haven’t come far enough.  Why didn’t we think of that before we turned into this road?”

“If I knew where you wanted to go, I might be better able to answer that question,” reminded Jane.  But the guardian was not to be caught in Crazy Jane’s trap, though it was too dark to reveal the quizzical smile that wrinkled Miss Elting’s face.

“I am not sure that I know myself, Jane,” was her reply.

“You fully expected to find some one here, did you not?” teased Harriet.  “I might say that you looked to find a number of persons here?”

“We won’t discuss that now.  Do you wish to spoil the little surprise that I have been planning for you?”

“If this is your surprise, I don’t think much of it,” declared Jane bluntly.

“Nor can I blame you,” agreed Miss Elting.  “But this is not the surprise.”

“Maybe if we wait we will fall into thome more pondth,” suggested Grace.  “Ith your thurprithe ath wet at thith one wath?”

“I admit your right to tease me, Tommy,” laughed the guardian.

“Come on, everybody!” urged Harriet.  “We must walk briskly and keep it up.  That will be the only way to keep us from catching cold as a result of our wetting.”  Having paused for a moment to discuss their situation the girls began tramping once more.  As the hours dragged along all became weary and drowsy.  Their joints were growing stiff, too, which condition was not improved by the chill of the night air.  Most active of all the party was little Tommy Thompson, who skipped along, talking incessantly.  Margery was scarcely able to keep up with the party.  Twice she leaned against a tree, closing her eyes, only to fall to the ground in a heap.  Harriet, though nearly as tired and footsore as her companions, summoned all her will power and trudged bravely along.

Had the Meadow-Brook Girls not been so well seasoned to hardship, serious results might have followed their unexpected bath in the chill waters, followed by their exposure to the searching night wind.  But they were healthy, outdoor girls, as all our readers know.  The first volume of this series, “The Meadow-Brook girls under canvas,” told the story of their first vacation spent in the open, when, as members of Camp Wau-Wau in the Pocono Woods, they served their novitiate as Camp Girls, winning many honors and becoming firmly wedded to life in the woods.