Thus, all demands of honor having been complied with, the five proceeded to become friends.  The boys built the fire, and gallantly let Marjorie have the fun of putting the potatoes and apples in place.

The Craig boys had nice instincts, and while they were rather rough-and-tumble among themselves, they treated King more decorously, and seemed to consider Marjorie as a being of a higher order, made to receive not only respect, but reverent homage.

“You see, we never had a sister,” said Tom; “and we’re a little bit scared of girls.”

“Well, I have three,” said King, “so you see I haven’t such deep awe of them.  But Midget won’t hurt you, so don’t be too scared of her.”

Marjorie smiled in most friendly fashion, for she liked these boys, and especially Tom.

“How old are you?” she asked him, in her frank, pleasant way.

“I’m fourteen,” replied Tom, “and the other kids are twelve and ten.”

“King’s fourteen,—­’most fifteen,” said Midget; “and I’ll be thirteen in July.  So we’re all in the same years.  I wish our Kitty was here.  She’s nearly eleven, but she isn’t any bigger than Harry.”

Harry smiled shyly, and poked at the potatoes with a stick, not knowing quite what to say.

“You see,” King explained, “Midget is the best sort of a girl there is.  She’s girly, all right, and yet she’s as good as a boy at cutting up jinks or doing any old kind of stunts.”

The three Craigs looked at Marjorie in speechless admiration.

“I never knew that kind,” said Tom, thoughtfully.  “You see, we go to a boys’ school, and we haven’t any girl cousins, or anything; and the only girls I ever see are at dancing class, or in a summer hotel, and then they’re all frilled up, and sort of airy.”

“I love to play with boys,” said Marjorie, frankly, “and I guess we’ll have a lot of fun this summer.”

“I guess we will!  Are you going to stay all summer?”

“Yes, till September, when school begins.”

“So are we.  Isn’t it funny we live next door to each other?”

“Awful funny,” agreed Marjorie, pulling a very black potato out of the red-hot embers.  “This is done,” she went on, “and I’m going to eat it.”

“So say we all of us,” cried King.  “One done,—­all done!  Help yourselves, boys!”

So they all pulled out the black, sooty potatoes, with more delighted anticipations than would have been roused by the daintiest dish served at a table.

“Ow!” cried Marjorie, flinging down her potato, and sticking her finger in her mouth.  “Ow! that old thing popped open, and burned me awfully!”

“Too bad, Mops!” said King, with genuine sympathy, but the Craig boys were more solicitous.

“Oh, oh!  I’m so sorry,” cried Tom.  “Does it hurt terribly?”

“Yes, it does,” said Midget, who was not in the habit of complaining when she got hurt, but who was really suffering from the sudden burn.