Part 10 (2/2)

”There is not an extra blanket in camp,” said Mrs. Livingston, when the situation was explained to the Chief Guardian. ”I don't know what we shall do. I fear you girls will have to go into town and stay at a hotel.”

”Oh, no. We have slept out-of-doors under worse conditions,” declared Harriet. ”Please do not concern yourself over us. We shall get along very nicely. Do you happen to have an extra piece of canvas in camp?”

”There is a side wall that we use for covering our vegetables, such as potatoes. You may use that if you wish, but I warn you it is not very clean.”

”We will give it a good dusting. It will answer very nicely to lie on and we'll sleep close together to keep warm. I am not sure but I should prefer sleeping out in that way. The Indians many times slept in the open without covering. I don't see why we shouldn't do the same.”

”Are there any thnaketh here?” inquired Tommy anxiously.

”Oh, no,” the Chief Guardian replied smilingly.

”Any bugth?”

”Naturally, there are some insects; fleas, perhaps, but you don't mind those.”

”No. My father thayth I hop around like a thand flea at a clam bake mythelf, but if I wath fat I couldn't do that, could I?” asked Tommy with a sidelong glance at Buster.

Margery, who had been an interested listener to the conversation, now turned her back, elevating her nose disdainfully. She made no reply to Tommy's fling at her. Harriet already had gone to bring the canvas, which was to be their bed for the night. She determined on the morrow to make bough beds for herself and companions, provided any suitable boughs were to be had. The canvas was dragged to a level spot. Jane and Hazel sc.r.a.ped the ground clean and smooth while Harriet was beating the canvas to get the dust out of it. This done, the canvas was spread out on the ground and folded over twice, leaving sufficient of it to cover them after they had taken their positions for the night.

Tommy regarded the preparations with mild interest.

”Who ith going to thleep next to the wall?” she asked.

”We thought we should place you next to the fold,” replied Miss Elting. ”You can't kick the cover off there.”

”And where ith Buthter going to thleep?”

”In the middle.”

”That ith all right. I don't withh to be too clothe to her. We might thquabble all night.”

”Now, Tommy, you first,” nodded Harriet.

Tommy took her place on the canvas with great care, gathering her skirts about her, turning around and around as if in search of the softest possible place on which to lie.

”You are thure Buthter ithn't going to thleep near me?” persisted Miss Tommy.

”Yes, yes. Please get in,” urged Miss Elting.

”I jutht wanted to know, that ith all.” She lay down, then one by one her companions took their places on the canvas. Harriet was the last to turn in. Before doing so she drew the unoccupied half of the canvas over the girls, leaving Tommy at the fold, as had been promised. There were no pillows. It was a case of lying stretched out flat or using one's arm for a pillow. The latter plan was adopted by most of the girls, though Harriet lay flat on her back after tucking herself in, gazing up at the stars and listening to the surf beating on the sh.o.r.e as the tide came rolling in. Now and then a roller showed a white ridge at its top, the white plainly visible even in the darkness, for the moon had not yet risen.

The campfire burned low, the camp itself being as silent as if deserted. Now and then twitterings in the tree tops might have been heard; were heard, in fact, by Harriet Burrell, but not heeded, for her gaze was fixed, as it had been for some moments, on two tiny specks of light far out on the dark sea. One of the specks was green, the other red. They rose and fell in unison, now and then disappearing for a few seconds, then rising, high in the air, as it appeared. The two lights were the side lights of a boat, red on the port and green on the starboard, and above them was a single white light at the masthead.

”According to those lights the boat is heading directly toward the beach,” mused Harriet reflectively. ”I wonder if I ought to show a light? No. They know where they are going. Besides, they can see the light of the campfire. The wind is increasing, too.”

Harriet dozed. She awakened half an hour later and gazed sleepily out to sea. The same lights were there, though they now appeared to be much nearer. All of a sudden they blinked out and were seen no more.

The girl sat up, rubbing her eyes wonderingly.

”Could they have sunk? No, of course not. How silly of me! The boat has turned about, and the lights are not visible from behind.” But she did not lie down at once. Instead, she rested her chin in the palms of her hands and gazed dreamily out over the water. A fresh, salty breeze was now blowing in. She could hear the flap, flap of the canvas of the tents off in the camp, a thin veil of mist was obscuring the stars, the pound of the surf was growing louder and the swish of the water on the beach more surly.

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