CHAPTER IX—THE TRAMP CLUB TO THE RESCUE

“Be quick, Harriet,” urged the guardian. “This is serious. I can’t move an inch.”

“I’ll do the best I can. Oh, I wish I had some good sized limbs of trees to throw to you. Here’s one. Where are you, Miss Elting?”

“Here. It’s no use. I can’t pull myself out.”

Margery was screaming at the top of her voice. It seemed as though her cries must be heard throughout the woods. No amount of urging could induce her to be quiet.

“Let her yell. Let her make all the noithe she can. Maybe thomebody will hear her,” wailed Tommy.

This was good logic. Miss Elting told Buster to shout as loudly as she could. The other girls now added their voices to Buster’s frantic screams. Harriet was moving about as rapidly as she dared, but she was unable to find any limbs large enough to be of much use to Miss Elting, who was nearest to the trail over which they had come. Harriet tried another experiment. Breaking down a sapling that grew beside the path she thrust this toward the guardian.

“Take hold of it,” she commanded. “Have you got it, Miss Elting?”

“Yes.”

“Give way loosely when I pull. I may be able to pull you out. Don’t resist at all.”

“It’s no use, Harriet!” announced the guardian, after several minutes of the hardest sort of work on Harriet’s part. “I am getting deeper in the mud with every move I make. You will have to think of something else.”

“Girls, stop your screaming for a moment,” called Harriet. “Tell me how you are? Are you sinking deeper into the mud or are you remaining about the same?”

“Whenever I make the slightest movement I sink in deeper. I’m keeping as still as possible,” answered Hazel.

“I’m in almotht up to my waitht,” cried Tommy. “I’m going to be buried alive. Oh, thave me!”

“As long as you are able to scream like that you are all right,” comforted Harriet. “When you stop yelling I shall begin to believe you are in real trouble.”

Harriet now set to work cutting down small saplings with her hatchet. These she threw out into the space between Miss Elting and the three girls. They were close together, which somewhat simplified the work. The Meadow-Brook girl knew that it would take a quantity of the small trees and limbs to support her weight, but it was the only course she knew of to follow. Fortunately for Harriet she was an athletic girl, possessing great strength for one of her age and build. Better still, she possessed a courage and will all her own. Then, too, Harriet Burrell was one of those doggedly determined persons who never know when they are worsted. Her mind was working even more rapidly than were her hands. She had succeeded in piling up enough stuff to form a slight support for the arms of her companions. She now explained her plan to them.

“I don’t think I shall be able to get you out of the morass without taking a long chance of getting in myself,” she began.

“Oh-h-h-h!” cried the girls despairingly. They had relied implicitly on Harriet’s resourceful brain to find the means to release them from their dangerous predicament.

“Wait until I have finished. You know that I’m not afraid. You know better than to think so,” soothed Harriet. “Don’t you see, if I were to get caught in the mud, your last hope would be gone? We might all perish here before any one found us.”

“You are right as usual, Harriet,” said Miss Elting. She was apparently calm. If she were nervous no trace of it was discoverable in her voice. “What do you propose to do?”

“I am going to pile some more stuff on what I have already placed there. Each of you is to throw out her arms and if possible lock hands across the barrier. When one hand gets tired change to the other one. That will keep you from sinking down much deeper. The saplings should keep you up, though it will be a rather severe strain on your arm.”

“What will you do, Harriet?” asked Miss Elting.

“I am going for help.”

“Oh, don’t leave uth!” wailed Grace.

“Harriet is right,” agreed Hazel. “It is the only thing to do. But which way will you go?”

“I will go back the way we came. I believe that if I am careful I shall be able to reach solid ground without getting off the trail. A short distance from here the ground rises somewhat and is harder. Once I reach that I shall be safe.”

“But, Harriet, where will you go for help?”

“I saw the top of some farm buildings to the west of where we were just before we entered this horrid place. I think it will be best for me to hurry there. I ought to be back in a couple of hours at the outside.”

“Two hourth!” mourned Tommy.

“That will be better than staying there all night, won’t it?” demanded Harriet.

“I should say it will,” agreed Hazel.

“Then hurry, dear,” urged Miss Elting.

“Is any one of you in pain?” questioned Harriet.

“I think not,” replied Miss Elting. “The ground is too soft to hurt. That’s the worst of it. If the ground weren’t so soft and sticky we should be able to get out. Do you think you could build a fire before you go, Harriet?”

“I wouldn’t dare to do so. Suppose it should spread to the trees about you after I had gone? There are cedars and small pine trees in here. The foliage of these trees is like tinder.”

“You are right!” exclaimed the guardian. “To build a fire would be the height of folly. Hurry, please. We will be here when you come back,” she added with a forced laugh.

“Be brave, girls. Remember, we are Meadow-Brook Girls,” said Harriet, as with a shouted “good-bye” she started back along the trail on her mission. Both arms were outspread so that she might be warned by touch when getting too close to the sides of the trail.

“Girls,” began Miss Elting brightly, after Harriet had left them. “Harriet reminded us that we are Meadow-Brook Girls. Let’s show that we are by giving the Meadow-Brook yell. Now. One, two, three, go!”

    “Meadow-Brook.  Meadow-Brook.
    Rah,  rah,  rah!
    Meadow-Brook,  Meadow-Brook,
    Sis,  boom,  ah-h-h!”

The girls’ voices grew stronger after the second line. The voices of Miss Elting and Tommy Thompson rose above those of the other two. Some one laughed. It was Tommy. Her laugh was a trifle hysterical, but it was a laugh, and for the moment it relieved the strain somewhat. Miss Elting gave them no time to think about themselves.

“Girls. Forty-nine Blue Bottles now,” she cried, then began the chant herself, the others joining in promptly.

    “Forty-nine  blue  bottles  were  hanging  on  the  wall,
    Forty-nine  blue  bottles  were  hanging  on  the  wall.
    Take  one  of  the  bottles  down  and  there’ll  be  forty-eight
            blue  bottles  a  hanging  on  the  wall,  a  hanging  on  the
            wall.”

They continued to chant regardless of aching throats and hoarse voices, until every one of those offending blue bottles had been removed from the wall.

“Now the Meadow-Brook yell again. It will bring assistance to us if any one hears it,” reminded the guardian. They repeated the yell.

“Gracious!” cried Miss Elting.

“Oh, what is it now?” begged Margery, in a frightened voice.

“Why, some malicious person has put all those forty-nine blue bottles back on the wall again. What shall we do?”

“I gueth we’ll have to take them off,” lisped Tommy, amid laughter from her companions and the guardian as well.

“I can’t,” moaned Margery. She began to choke and cough. “I’ve swallowed a bug.”

“Oh, the poor bug. I’m tho thorry for him,” piped Tommy.

“Maybe we can catch him in one of those bottles,” suggested Miss Elting. “Come, girls, you aren’t going to desert me now, are you? Already! ‘Forty-nine blue bottles were hanging on the wall.’”

Once more the girls went over the familiar refrain, ending finally with the Meadow-Brook yell. Again and again did they take the bottles from the wall, but as often as they removed them invisible hands replaced every one of the forty-nine blue bottles in their accustomed position on the wall.

For the tenth time the forty-nine blue bottles had been taken down and hung up again. The voices of the girls were so hoarse that they could barely speak aloud, though they were laughing hysterically as they labored with the forty-ninth. They had almost forgotten that they were in danger, forgotten their aching bodies, forgotten that Harriet Burrell was speeding through the darkness in quest of assistance, when a distant but familiar cry reached their ears. It was the long drawn out “hoo-e-e-e-e” of the Meadow-Brook Girls.

Miss Elting heard it first. Her companions were laughing so immoderately that they failed to hear it the first time. The guardian’s voice failed her. A lump rose in her throat. The strain had been so great that several times she found herself on the point of giving way. Now the reaction had set in.

“Hoo-e-e-e-e!”

Tommy heard it, and uttered a scream. The call was repeated. This time all the girls heard it plainly.

“It’s Harriet, it’s Harriet!” cried Hazel.

“Yes. Rescue is at hand,” replied Miss Elting fervently.

A light twinkled far away through between the trees. It seemed to the anxious eyes of the guardian as though it were miles and miles distant. She raised her voice in a shout, but the voice was so weak that it carried but a short distance.

“Shout, girls!” she begged. “You may be able to make them hear. I can’t. My voice has completely left me. Tommy! You can always scream. Do so now.”

Tommy let loose a thrilling, penetrating yell. The rescue party heard it. They answered with return shouts in male voices.

“That sounds to me like boys’ voices,” cried Miss Elting huskily.

“Oh, thave me!” wailed Tommy. “My hair ith all tumbled down, my frock ith muddy from top to bottom and my fathe ith thmudged. I’m a thight, I know I am. I can’t retheive company to-day. Thend them away, pleathe.”

Some one came running toward them considerably in advance of the light.

“Girls! Girls!” shouted an anxious voice.

“Here!” cried the guardian.

“Thank goodness you’re alive,” answered Harriet Burrell. “I’ve been terribly anxious about you. Here—here’s a can of fresh water. I know your throats must be dry.”

Reaching forward, Harriet handed the can to the guardian. Miss Elting passed it on to Tommy. Each of the girls drank.

“Where are you, folks?” shouted a boyish voice.

“Here. Just ahead of you,” answered Harriet. She had sunk down on the trail, her strength gone. A moment later she was on her feet again, hurrying down the trail to guide the rescuers to the spot.

A tall young fellow clad in khaki, a campaign hat on his head, rushed up. Behind him came half a dozen other young men similarly clad. They were bearing fence rails on their shoulders, fairly staggering under the weight of their burdens.

“Oh, I’m so glad!” cried Miss Elting, now on the verge of tears after the strain. “Who are they, Harriet, my brave girl?”

“We’re the Tramp Club,” answered the first boy. “We’ll introduce ourselves after we get you girls out of the morass. You’re in a fine mess and you certainly do need help.”

CHAPTER X—IN THE HANDS OF THE RESCUERS

“I stand corrected,” laughed the young man. “Please grab the rope and pull on it. I don’t dare throw a rail out there for fear of hitting one of you. Being the farthest out, you will be able to pull the rail right up to you. Never mind if you do settle down an inch or two. I’ll have you out at any rate. Do you understand?”

“Yeth.”

“Then here goes.” The boy tossed a coil of rope so accurately that the coil dropped directly over Grace Thompson’s head. She uttered a little scream as the rope slipped over her head, then clawed frantically at it. “That’s right,” cried her rescuer. “Now pull.”

Tommy pulled desperately drawing the rail towards her, but sinking deeper and deeper into the mud until she was nearly up to her armpits. The little lisping girl took fresh alarm. She began to cry, “Thave me!”

“Don’t be frightened. Here’s another rail!” encouraged the youth. “We’ve got to build up a bridge. Those limbs and saplings you have out there will make an excellent foundation. Hurry them up here, Dill! The young ladies will grow impatient and refuse to wait for us longer.”

The girls declined to laugh at this pleasantry. They were in too much distress. Harriet stood holding a lantern above her head so that the boys might see to work to the best advantage. The rails were drawn out by Tommy in each instance, assisted by the girls between herself and the path. Then the leader set his boys at work felling the largest trees they could find along the trail. The lads went at their work with a will. As soon as the trees and brush were cut down they were carried over and dumped in on the rail and brush foundation, forming a rude bridge. The leader then advanced cautiously over it until he reached a point near to the guardian and the girls.

“Now we will see what we can do.”

A rope was passed about the waist of the guardian despite her protests that the others should be gotten out of the morass first. Three boys were put at the shore end of the rope with orders to pull when their leader gave the word. He, on his part, took firm hold of Miss Elting under the arms, then shouted “now!”

Those on shore began to pull. The leader, at the same time, began to lift with all his might, moving the guardian’s shoulders from left to right.

“Tell me if the rope hurts you,” gasped the muscular young fellow.

Miss Elting came up so suddenly that her rescuer fell over, narrowly escaping a plunge into the morass. The guardian was finally dragged to the path. The rescuers then turned their attention to the other girls. Their wooden raft was slowly sinking under the weight that had been put upon it, but fresh stuff was being constantly piled on it to keep it above the mud. One by one the Meadow-Brook Girls were hauled out.

Harriet had helped Miss Elting aside into the shadows, where she assisted the guardian in scraping the mud from her clothing. At first Miss Elting was barely able to stand. She found herself trembling from head to foot now that the strain, mental and physical, was removed.

“Here’s another one!” cried the cheery voice of the leader

“What wonderful boys!” breathed Miss Elting, starting to go to Tommy’s assistance.

“Please lie down on the ground and rest, Miss Elting. Don’t try to get up until we are ready to start. I can take care of the others as they are dragged out,” directed Harriet.

She assisted Tommy to a place beside Miss Elting, the latter insisting upon trying to help the unfortunate and humiliated Tommy in her distressing condition.

“I withh I had thome clotheth fit to be theen,” complained the little girl. “Thith dreth ith a thight.”

“Be thankful that you are alive,” answered Harriet sharply.

“We should have perished, had it not been for you,” answered the guardian.

“Considering that I was the only one who didn’t get into the mud, I simply had to be the one to go for help. I don’t deserve any credit,” flung back Harriet, hurrying over to assist the suffering Buster. After Buster, came Hazel, the last to be rescued.

“Have we got them all?” questioned the young man.

“Yes, thank goodness,” answered Harriet.

“We are under great obligations to you, young gentlemen. We are in no condition to properly express our appreciation this evening. I hope we may have an opportunity to do so in the morning,” said Miss Elting.

“We are very glad to have been able to help you. We needed a little exercise,” laughed the young man. “Yes, we shall see you again, but we haven’t finished our work yet. What do you say? Shall we fix up some litters and carry the young ladies out?”

“I don’t know. We shall see in a few moments. Give them a chance to rest. They are completely exhausted.”

“Certainly. We fellows are going on ahead to examine this path. We'll return presently.”

The boys trudged off down the trail.

“We shan’t go far,” called back the leader, then strode off after his companions. Harriet and Miss Elting made the girls as comfortable and presentable as possible, though it was apparent that both girls and clothes needed a thorough scrubbing.

“I don’t know how we are going to reach camp,” pondered the guardian, while waiting for Grace, Margery and Hazel to rest.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” exclaimed Harriet; “Jane met these boys this afternoon. Two of them are acquaintances of hers. They are high school boys from the town of Proctor. Like ourselves they are out on a long tramp, and they are camped right near where we are to camp for the night. They assisted Jane to put up the camp and get everything in order. Then, when night came, Jane began to grow worried. She declared that something had happened to us. One of the boys wanted to know which way we were to come and Jane told them.”

“‘Then they have gotten into the swamp and they’re in trouble,’ declared one of the boys. It seems that these boys passed through here yesterday, and two of them got into the morass in broad daylight. No wonder we floundered into it trying to get through there in the dark. Of course Jane was wild with anxiety. She said they must help her find us. This they were willing and glad to do. They decided to come to this end of the swamp and begin their search from the point where we were supposed to have entered.”

“Did you meet them?” interrupted Miss Elting.

“Yes. Jane rushed them, in her car, to the nearest point on the road, then ran across the field with them to the place where we took the swamp trail. I met them just as I came out into the field. Jane was wild with delight, then she cried when I told her where you were. She wanted to come here with me. I told her to hurry back to camp and prepare hot water, get everything ready, then come for us. She will be back long before we get out of the swamp I think. The boys told me all that I have told you, as we were hurrying in here. It is very fortunate for us that we met them,” declared Harriet in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I think you are a very brave and resourceful girl, Harriet. You will get some honor beads for this. Girls, shall we sing ‘Forty-nine Blue Bottles’ now?” questioned Miss Elting quizzically.

“No!” shouted Tommy, so loudly that the Tramp Club, who had gone a short distance down the trail, heard and thought that the girls were calling them back.

“Did you call us?” hailed the leader, running back toward the girls.

“No,” returned Miss Elting. “We are all right, thank you.”

The boys continued on down the trail. Half an hour later they returned to find the girls somewhat rested and ready to proceed on their journey.

“Do you think you feel strong enough to go on?” asked the leader of the Tramp Club solicitously.

“Yes,” replied Miss Elting. “We are anxious to meet Jane and get settled for the night. You have not told us yet to whom we are indebted for our rescue.”

“My name is George Baker. I’m the captain of the Tramp Club. They’re a fine lot of fellows, but full of mischief.”

“As I said before, we haven’t words with which to express our gratitude to you for what you have done for us,” said Miss Elting. “Ah! There are your friends. Won’t you introduce us to them? I’ll first introduce my Meadow-Brook Girls.” Miss Elting introduced the girls to the Tramp Club as a body, after which the captain did the same with his friends. The names of the members of the club as given by the captain in his introduction, were Dill Dodd, Fred Avery, Sam Crocker, Charles Mabie, Will Burgess and Davy Dockrill.

“Taken altogether, ladies,” remarked the captain, “we are a choice band of ruffians on the road, though sometimes gentlemen when we are at home.”

“I disagree with you,” laughed the guardian. “I shall never meet any finer gentlemen than I have met to-night.”

The captain doffed his hat. Tommy was regarding him out of the corners of her eyes. She seemed about to say something; then, apparently changing her mind, smiled impishly to herself and remained silent.

“I told your friend, Miss McCarthy, to set the boys at work getting things ready for the ladies when they reached camp,” said the captain. “My, but I got some thrills riding out here with Miss McCarthy. We must have driven out here at the rate of about a hundred miles an hour. I never before rode so fast in my life. Here, fellows, what’s the matter with you! This is no marathon. The young ladies can’t hit up that pace and keep on their feet. Slow down.”

“We can walk jutht ath fatht ath any boy in bootth,” retorted Tommy indignantly.

Captain Baker touched the rim of his hat.

“I’ll argue it out with you some other time, Miss Thompson,” he said.

“Oh!” moaned Margery, staggering a little.

The head tramp immediately sprang to Margery’s assistance. “Let me help you,” he insisted, taking Margery by the arm. Miss Elting stepped up on the other side of Margery, taking the latter’s free arm.

“Now, you will be all right, dear,” encouraged the guardian.

Harriet, in the meantime, was assisting Tommy along. The boys ahead began to sing. In this way the party followed the trail out to the field. The girls breathed sighs of relief as they emerged into the open.

Just then, out of the darkness, rushed a figure, throwing itself upon Tommy and Harriet.

“Oh, you dear girls!” cried Jane, flinging an arm about the neck of each. “I nearly cried my eyes out over you. But, when the boys started out to find you, I knew it would be all right. Everything is ready for you. Nice warm baths, and there will be a pot of hot coffee for you. I’ll whisk you to camp in short order.”

“Never mind the whisking,” spoke up the guardian. “Captain Baker has told us about your whisking him out here this evening.”

Jane threw back her head and laughed.

“How about going back? I’ll tell you what, boys. I’ll take the girls and one of you, then I’ll come back and get the rest.”

“No thank you, we will walk it,” answered the chief tramp promptly.

“Never,” insisted Jane. “You come with us, young man. I’ll be back here in half an hour for the rest of these brave boys.”

The captain declined to desert his men. Jane therefore urged him no further. The boys assisted in helping the Meadow-Brook Girls into the car, then Jane drove away at a rapid rate. She let the girls out at their camp, located in a very pretty and now moonlit valley.

“You’ll find everything ready. I’m going back for those unruly boys,” Jane announced, turning her car about and racing back over the road, her hair streaming over one shoulder, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of it all. The tramps had another lively ride to camp. Jane did not spare them. She took an almost savage delight in trying to frighten them, but did not succeed very well in this attempt. If they were afraid they failed to show it.

On reaching camp the tired wayfarers lost no time in making for their tent where hot water for their baths awaited them. By the time Jane returned with the members of the Tramp Club the Meadow-Brook Girls, clad in dry, fresh clothing, were ready to receive their guests. They presented a wholly different appearance, now, and the boys gazed at them admiringly.

“Jane, the boys must join us at supper,” declared Miss Elting.

George shook his head.

“There are too many of us. We’ll eat you out of house and home.”

“There’s lots more stuff to eat in the automobile,” declared Jane hospitably. “You wait till I unload the real supplies.”

She dragged out a hamper. It was filled with good things to eat, and what particularly pleased the boys, was the unexpected invitation to eat with their new found friends.

Though the girls were tired and exhausted from their trying experiences in the swamp, it proved a happy evening. It was decided to remain in camp all next day to rest. Strangely enough Captain Baker announced that they too had already concluded that they needed a rest. He said they would do some foraging next day, and bring the girls some good things to eat to pay them back for what they had eaten and for the exciting ride Jane had given them.

Miss Elting smiled knowingly. The tramps appeared to be gentlemanly boys, however “full of mischief” they might be.

It was ten o’clock when the Tramp Club said good night and set out for their own camp.

“Now, children, go to bed at once,” directed the guardian. “We have had excitement enough for one day at least.”

The girls agreed with her, and half an hour later the camp had settled down for the night.

CHAPTER XI—A CONTEST OF ENDURANCE

“I noticed that when I returned, but thought you had all caught cold. So it was forty-nine blue bottles that made you so hoarse,” laughed Harriet. “I think you deserve the real credit of the rescue. Had you not done what you did to keep up the spirits of the girls there might have been a different ending,” declared Harriet Burrell with emphasis. She kissed the guardian impulsively, than stepping softly, to avoid waking her sleeping companions, she made her way outside the tent. Shading her eyes and gazing about she finally discovered a brown-clad figure sitting on a fence. He evidently was observing the camp, for, when he caught sight of Harriet, he waved his hand.

“I’ll wager that’s Captain Baker,” smiled Harriet, waving back to him. “He is a peculiar young man. We are under great obligations to them all, but those boys think girls are of no account. We are going to clash with them. I know we are.”

Harriet poked the fire and built it up until a cloud of smoke was ascending skyward. It was not a skilfully made fire, but Harriet had a purpose in making a great smudge that morning. She wished to show the tramps that the girls had just gotten up and were not yet ready to receive company. She had construed Captain Baker’s action in watching the camp as being for the purpose of learning when the Meadow-Brook outfit was ready to see them. As the girl cast frequent glances across the fields she saw the other members of the Tramp Club scattered about not far from their own camp, though all of the boys kept a respectful distance from the camp occupied by the girls.

Breakfast was out of the way and the camp of the Meadow-Brook Girls put to rights by ten o’clock. The travelers felt somewhat lame and stiff after their experience in the swamp. Tommy walked with a distinct limp, which Harriet accused her of putting on for effect.

“I’m not pretending,” protested Tommy indignantly. “I gueth you would walk like I do if you had been fatht in the mud motht all night.”

Harriet laughed good-naturedly.

A halloo out back of the camp cut short any further argument. It was Captain Baker with his fellow “tramps.”

“Is it too early in the morning to make our party call?” shouted George.

“No. Come right along,” called Harriet cordially. “We got up rather late this morning. Didn’t I see you sitting on the fence off yonder?”

“Yes, I was watching for a woodchuck to come out. Fellows, you’ve all met Miss Burrell, I think. And Miss Thompson.”

“Yeth I met them in the thwamp,” lisped Tommy.

Miss Elting came out, her face wearing a radiant smile of welcome for the tramps. Their hats were off instantly. She insisted on shaking hands with each of the boys in turn.

“I suppose you have had your breakfast?” smiled the guardian.

“Breakfast!” exclaimed Davy Dockrill. “Yes. We men eat our breakfast at six o’clock. We aren’t like girls, who take their breakfast in place of luncheon.”

“And eat cookies between meals,” laughed Harriet. “How many miles do you walk a day?”

“Oh, a lot,” answered George airily.

“How many?” persisted Harriet.

“Well, maybe ten, fifteen, twenty miles, maybe more.”

“I’ll wager that you take a ride now and then,” interjected Tommy.

“We don’t. We walk, I tell you.”

“We aren’t like girls, who have to stop and rest every half mile or so,” declared Will Burgess.

“And get stuck in the mud,” laughed Fred Avery.

“That’ll be about all, boys,” reproved Captain Baker, frowning. “I told you these boys were full of mischief. But you mustn’t mind them,” he added apologetically.

“Oh, we don’t mind them at all,” smiled Harriet.

“When are you going to start out again?”

“Not until some time to-morrow morning,” answered Miss Elting. “We are all a little lame and tired to-day.”

The captain nodded gravely.

“Yes; girls can’t stand as much as boys when it comes to hard work like a week or so of walking,” he said with an air of conviction.

“Yeth they can,” resented Tommy. “Girlth can walk jutht ath far in a day ath boyth can.”

“You’ve got to show us before we can believe that,” declared Davy.

“Very well; we will show you,” answered Harriet quietly. “Name your conditions.”

“Do you mean it?” questioned George.

“Of course I mean it.”

“You’re plucky, all right,” he said regarding her admiringly. “But I don’t like to have a contest with girls.”

“Why not? Are you afraid of them?” demanded Margery.

The boy flushed.

“No, ma’am. It isn’t manly, that’s all.”

“You mean it wouldn’t be manly to be beaten by girls, eh?” suggested Harriet.

“Well, yes, I suppose that’s what I mean.”

“Oh, very well. If you wish to back out, why, of course——”

“Back out? I guess not!” exclaimed Sam. “We’ll walk your heads off, if you say the word.”

“Oh, mercy, no,” protested Harriet, laughingly. “I hope you will not do anything so terrible as that. You haven’t said what the conditions are to be. We must have some rules if we are to have a hiking contest. They have rules even in a walking contest, I understand.”

Captain Baker pondered a moment.

“I don’t know about rules. I think it will have to be a go-as-you-please contest.”

“We are willing to abide by whatever you say,” replied Harriet.

“Where do you go to-morrow? I mean where do you make your next camp?”

Harriet consulted their map.

“We are going to try to make Hunt’s Corners,” she said, scrutinizing the map.

“May I see that map?” asked Davy.

“I don’t think it would be quite fair,” answered Harriet brightly. “You see, our route is marked out on the map. Were I to show it to you, you would know which way we are going. That would give you an advantage. I will show the map to you some other time.”

“Of course it would be unfair. We don’t want to see the map, Davy,” rebuked George. “How far is it to Hunt’s Corners?”

“Ten or twelve miles.”

“Don’t let that trouble you, boys. I’ll be on hand with the car and I’ll pick up the stragglers,” interjected Jane, joining the group. She had been at work cleaning her car. Her face was smudged and her hands blackened. “If any of you get tired out I’ll promise to take care of you.”

“Thank you,” answered the captain, flushing. His companions laughed at him.

“But, Captain,” protested Harriet, “we haven’t decided on anything. Is this to be a race for one day, or for all the way home? You go right through Meadow-Brook, do you not?”

“Yes. Just as you say. I don’t think you can stand it to race all the way home.”

“Perhaps not,” answered Harriet dryly.

“No. The poor, delicate things,” mourned Jane. “Just think how you are going to walk them to death. You boys should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“I don’t care if the girls don’t,” laughed George. “Yes. We’ll walk you all the way in to Meadow-Brook. The party that gets in first must give the other side something. What’ll it be?” asked George.

“I’ll take marthhmallowth for mine,” piped Tommy.

“That’s it. A box of candy for each of you if you win. What do you say, fellows?” questioned George, appealing to his companions.

They nodded, smiling acquiescence.

“Suppose we give each of you a handkerchief if you win,” smiled Harriet.

“It’s a go,” declared Captain George.

“Then I propose this. Each party is to go as it chooses. The one that gets in first wins,” suggested Harriet.

“Are tricks barred?” demanded Sam.

“I don’t know what you mean by tricks. Strategy isn’t,” returned Harriet.

“Whew! That’s a big word,” exclaimed Dill.

“Neither party is to ride, you know,” spoke up George, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Certainly not,” answered Harriet. “We shouldn’t do such a dishonest thing.”

“I beg your pardon. Of course not. You girls have a car and, perhaps, you might think it amusing to work a trick on us.”

“Our Meadow-Brook Girls aren’t that kind, Mr. Baker,” interposed Miss Elting severely.

“Ride? You couldn’t drag them into the car,” declared Jane.

“By the way, young men, have you seen anything of two Italians and a bear?” asked Miss Elting.

“Yes. We met them two days ago,” answered the captain. “Why?”

“We had some difficulty with them; that’s all.”

“I wish we had known that.” The captain’s lips compressed, a frown appearing on his forehead. “What did they do?”

Miss Elting told the boys the whole story. How the boys did laugh when the guardian described how Jane had chased the Italians about the field with her car!

“We will keep out of the road when you are abroad, Miss McCarthy,” said George. “I don’t believe you are a safe person to be allowed on the highway.”

“You are right, she isn’t,” nodded Miss Elting. “Well, have you settled your plans for the contest?”

“All the plans we can make. We are to walk to Meadow-Brook. Neither party should actually walk more than ten hours a day——”

“My goodneth,” interrupted Tommy. “Ten hourth a day. Thave me!”

Captain Baker smiled a superior smile and nodded to his companions.

“Oh, no. We shouldn’t want to wear you out to that extent,” replied Harriet mildly.

“In the meantime we wish you to come to supper with us this evening,” invited Miss Elting. “We will show you that Meadow-Brook Girls can cook as well as walk. We shan’t promise you much of a variety, but there will be plenty to eat. That will give you new strength for the coming contest,” she added, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

The captain accepted the invitation for his friends. He offered to bring over some provisions and some milk. Jane replied that she had arranged for the milk, which she was to go after in her car. It was decided that the boys need bring nothing with them, there being enough in camp for all. The Tramp Club went away, to return at about half past five in the afternoon.

The young men had become very much interested in the Meadow-Brook Girls. As Captain Baker characterized them, “They aren’t the helpless, fainting kind. Those girls know how to take care of themselves. Now, what do you think of their fighting off two Italians and a bear? Fellows, we’ve got to hike some to beat them! They’ve got something in the back of their heads that we don’t know about.”

“Pshaw! We can walk them off the earth,” scoffed Sam.

CHAPTER XII—MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS UP A TREE

“It isn’t as yet. Perhaps it may be to-morrow night,” replied Harriet. But just how much of a joke it was to be, or on whom, Harriet Burrell at that moment did not know. She rather suspected it would be on the Tramp Club, but in this conjecture she was wrong.

“Oh, Harriet, why did you ever get us into this?” groaned Margery, after the departure of the boys. “Here am I half dead, with swollen feet and aching bones, and now I’ve got to enter a race of I don’t know how many miles against a lot of athletic boys.”

“As I said before, Margery, you may ride in the car if you prefer.”

“No; I’m going through with this hike if it kills me.”

“That’s the way to talk!” nodded Harriet briskly. “Faint heart never won strong race.”

“Have you any plans for fooling the boys, Harriet?” asked Jane.

Harriet shook her head, but, after a gesture of apology, drew Jane aside, whispering with her.

“Can you spare us a moment, Miss Elting?” asked Harriet. Soon the three were in earnest council.

“I agree,” called Tommy ironically. “What ith it? I’m thtrong for it!”

“It’s going to be hard work,” declared the guardian, “and it’ll be rough traveling during the last five miles, but we’ll be there by noon. We made no agreement with the boys to stop at any particular place?”

“No, Miss Elting,” Harriet answered.

“Then everybody to bed!” ordered the guardian tersely.

At three the next morning four sleepy girls were tumbled out of bed by a barely less drowsy chaperon. But swift, silent work had to be done. Harriet put wood on the still glowing coals of the fire, then prepared coffee and a light meal.

“Thtop it!” screamed Tommy, when energetic Jane “struck” the tent, bringing it down on a pair of heads, the other of which was Margery’s.

Jane McCarthy, heedless of their protests, hustled relentlessly. The girls and their guardian ate as best they could, under the circumstances. By the time the light breakfast had been eaten all the packing had been done, and everything was ready for moving, except the dishes and supplies. These were packed by Margery, Hazel and Tommy. At four o’clock all was in readiness for the start.

“We are going to travel eastward over the mountains, girls,” explained Harriet. “We shall have dense forests to go through and rugged paths to follow, but we shall save a number of miles and a great deal of time by going that way. We ought to reach Meadow-Brook some hours ahead of the boys if they take the road, as I heard Mr. Baker say they would. We shall touch the road occasionally, especially after we get over the mountains. And you, Jane, must leave a sign on the fence. We will do the same. Wherever we touch the highway we will make a sign, also putting down the time. Those boys don’t know anything about our secret signs, and they mustn’t.”

“Are we all ready?” asked the guardian.

“Yes.”

“You had better start your car quietly, Jane,” suggested Miss Elting.

Jane nodded. She understood. The camp of the Tramp Club was not so far away but that the boys could hear the motor plainly if they were awake, which the girls very much doubted, as the Tramps had confessed that they sat up late nights, telling stories, playing Indian war games and scouting in the woods.

“Shoulder packs!” commanded Harriet.

A few moments later the four girls with their guardian, after having put out the fire, started from the field. They were headed for the highway. Jane stood beside her car, waving to them until they were out of sight, then she calmly climbed into the vehicle and went to sleep. Crazy Jane had a plan of her own.

About five o’clock the camp of the Tramp Club began to show signs of life. The captain roused his companions. It had been his intention to get out earlier, but he had overslept, as had all of his men. Still, he did not consider that there was any necessity for great haste. Of course he had not the slightest idea that the Meadow-Brook Girls had broken camp at any such early hour.

The boys, while losing no time, made no effort at great haste. It was nearly six o’clock when they finished their breakfast and half an hour later, before they strapped on their packs and started down the road.

Dill Dodd chuckled triumphantly as he pointed to Jane McCarthy’s automobile standing right where it had been since the previous afternoon.

“All sleepy heads over there,” nodded Sam. “We could beat that outfit and sleep all the time.”

“Wait a minute,” answered George. “I don’t see the tent, do you, fellows?”

No one spoke for a moment. Then the leader announced that he was going down to the girls’ camp. He returned at a trot after having visited the deserted camp and peered into the automobile.

“Well, what is it?” questioned several boys.

“Fellows, we’re stung. They’ve gone!” declared George.

“But—but the automobile is there?”

“Yes, and that Miss McCarthy is curled up like a kitten on the back seat sleeping as sweetly as you please. There’s not another girl in camp.”

“Well, what do you know about that?” drawled Davy.

“How long have they been gone, do you think?” asked Will.

“From the feel of the ashes I should say several hours.” George did not know that they had smothered the fire with a damp blanket. “That was a fine trick to play on us the first day,” growled George. “That’s the girl of it.”

“Hold on, Cap. You know Miss Burrell, who seems to be the spokesman for the outfit, said strategy wasn’t barred. This isn’t a trick, it’s strategy. There’s a difference between tricking and strategy you know.”

“Boys, we’ve got to catch up with them,” declared the captain. “Are we going to let a lot of girls get the best of us?”

“No!” shouted the boys in chorus.

“Then hike! Don’t lose your wind at the start. Strike a steady clip, but after half an hour hit it up, and keep hitting it up till we catch up with them and take the lead once more. This is a fine mess, but we’ll soon be out of it with flying colors.”

The Tramp Club walked for two hours without finding any trace of the Meadow-Brook Girls. The boys were becoming worried. By this time they surely ought to have found the tracks of the girls in the road.

“You don’t think they have taken a short cut, do you?” asked Charlie.

Baker shook his head.

“They couldn’t get over those mountains. No; they have been following the side of the road, so we wouldn’t be able to pick up the trail. They’re sharp ones. They know something about trailing. That’s plain to be seen. Hark! what’s that?”

The honk, honk of an automobile horn was heard in the far distance to the rear of them. They listened a moment, then pressed on. It was not an unusual happening to be passed by a motor car. They soon realized, however, that this one was coming at a much higher rate of speed than the statute said was lawful.

A cloud of dust arose a full half mile to the rear of them. As it bore down on the boys the dust rose higher and higher.

“Hoo-e-e-e! Hoo-e-e-e!” yelled a shrill voice from the heart of the dust cloud.

“It’s that Miss McCarthy. They call her Crazy Jane,” shouted Dill. “Let’s hold her up.”

Bent on mischief, the boys formed a chain across the road with clasped hands. On came the car careening from side to side, its horn honking hoarsely like the warning of a sentinel crow, its driver uttering her shrill “hoo-e-e-e,” her hair standing out almost straight behind her in the breeze.

The boys stood firm; the car did not slacken its speed.

“Jump for your lives!” yelled the captain of the tramps. “She’s going to run us down!”

A great black object flitted past them just as their ranks opened. There was not even time to get out of the road. The most they could do was to make an opening large enough—and barely large enough at that—to permit the passage of the car, which went roaring past them. A long-drawn “hoo-e-e-e,” floated back to them, a choking cloud of dust and sand showered over them, sending the boys into severe coughing fits as they staggered off to the side of the highway and sat down on the dusty grass.

“Well, what do you think of that?” gasped Sam Crocker.

“I think it’s exceedingly lucky for us that we got out of the road when we did,” answered Captain George, shaking an angry fist in the direction of the disappearing cloud of dust. “Why, she would have run right over us.”

“She would,” agreed the boys in chorus.

“But also she wouldn’t. She knew we would get out of the way,” added Sam Crocker.

“Come on, fellows. This won’t do,” cried George. “We’ve got to make tracks now.” They scrambled to their feet and set out at a fast pace. In the meantime Jane McCarthy, chuckling over the scare she had given the Tramp Club, was racing along the highway in her mad drive to the eastward.

A few miles farther on she stopped the car and after taking a survey of the land, got out and made some chalk marks on a fence. Then she drove on more leisurely.

While all this was happening the Meadow-Brook Girls were traveling on, also at a fast pace. They had gotten over the rugged range of hills after having sustained some scratches on their hands and several rents in their frocks. They then came out into a corn field. A highway lay below them which they would have to cross. On the opposite side of the highway lay an apple orchard, the trees standing close together, their tops in most instances interlacing.

“I wonder if the boys have passed here?” questioned Hazel, shading her eyes and gazing up and down the road.

“No. They must still be a long way back,” answered Harriet.

The Meadow-Brook Girls started down the hill, climbing the fence into the road. There before them, plainly discernible, were the tracks of an automobile.

“Jane went past here not long ago,” decided Margery. “These are her car tracks, I am sure.”

“Yes, and there’s a chalk mark on the fence,” said Miss Elting, pointing down the road a few rods. They hurried over to examine the sign.

“A broken arrow,” exclaimed Harriet. “That means danger or ‘look out.’ Now, I wonder what we are to look out for? I don’t see anything alarming.”

“I think Jane means to inform us that the boys are not far from here and to look out for them,” suggested the guardian.

“Yes, that must be it. Half-past twelve, the signal says, she passed here. That is nearly an hour ago. Come, girls, let’s get over that fence in a hurry and be off. Once through the orchard, and they can’t see us,” urged Harriet Burrell.

“Wait; let’s be certain that we are right,” warned the guardian. She took a careful survey about them. Nothing of an alarming nature was to be seen. It was just an ordinary country scene, with the sun shining down overhead, the air warm and oppressive about them.

“Everything appears to be all right,” she decided finally. “Yes, go ahead, girls.” Miss Elting was the first to climb the roadside fence and drop down on the other side. She was quickly followed by the four girls of her party. “Keep on the alert, girls. If any of you catches sight of the boys drop down behind trees and don’t speak.” The guardian had entered into the spirit of the contest with an enthusiasm equal to that of the girls themselves. “I can’t believe that they have gotten ahead of us. It isn’t probable that that was what Jane meant when she marked the danger signal on the fence here.”

“Wait,” called Harriet. Springing back over the fence she wrote the letters “O. K.” underneath the broken arrow and the triangle. This was for the purpose of informing Jane that her message had been read and understood in case she were to return that way later on, as she was more than likely to do.

This done they started briskly in among the trees of the orchard. They had not gone far before Tommy, who was in the lead, uttered a shrill little scream of alarm. The girls had started to run toward her when they halted abruptly. Just ahead of them stood a great hulking bull with head lowered to the ground, his small eyes fixed menacingly on the girls. The bull uttered a deep, rumbling bellow.

“Thave me! Oh, thave me!” wailed Tommy.

“Run for your lives, girls,” shouted the guardian.

They turned and were about to flee for the road when they came to another abrupt stop. To the right and the left of them were two other bulls, each with lowered head, pawing the dirt with first one front foot then the other.

All at once the girls understood the meaning of Jane’s danger sign. She had seen the bulls in passing, and knowing that her companions would pass that way, had halted to leave a warning for them.

“Quick! Into the trees!” shouted Miss Elting. She grabbed the trembling Tommy and helped her up into a tree, Harriet in the meantime performing the same service for Margery and Hazel. Then the guardian and Harriet began scrambling up, but ere they had gotten off the ground the bulls charged them.

CHAPTER XIII—A SERIOUS PREDICAMENT

There followed a bellow and a rush from the third bull, which was some few yards distant from its fellows. The girls closed their eyes as the lowered head and wicked-looking horns seemed to come into contact with Harriet Burrell’s body. Miss Elting, strong-nerved as she was, could not repress a scream. Margery, utterly terror-stricken, lost her balance, and had it not been for Hazel, who threw an arm about her, Margery would have fallen from the tree and been at the mercy of the savage bulls.

In the meantime, having heard no scream from Harriet, the girls opened their eyes fearfully. They saw Harriet leaping for a higher limb of the tree. The head of the bull had crashed against the base of the tree where Harriet had been but a second before.

With remarkable presence of mind the girl, when she struck the ground, had rolled herself to one side, thus placing the tree between herself and her assailant. This gave her a few seconds respite. But in these few seconds Harriet gathered her faculties together. Springing to her feet she had flung herself straight up into the air, with arms thrown above her head to grasp the limb that her quick eyes had noted.

Most girls would have fainted, but Harriet Burrell did not. She was not of the fainting kind, as Captain Baker had so truly said a few hours before. A few awful seconds of suspense followed.

With feet curled under her, the girl’s hands reached and clasped the limb. Then she drew herself up to it; a feat requiring both muscle and practice. Once there she lay along the creaking limb of the apple tree just out of reach of the tossing horns, gazing down into the bloodshot eyes of the ferocious beast. The limb bent perilously. It threatened, at any second, to give way beneath her weight.

“Climb higher!” cried Miss Elting, “oh, climb higher!”

“I don’t dare move. The limb may break if I do,” answered Harriet in a wholly calm voice.

“Thave me, thave me!” wailed Tommy Thompson weakly.

“What shall we do? Please be careful, Harriet,” begged the guardian in an agonized voice.

“I intend to be careful. I haven’t any burning desire to fall on those sharp horns. I never saw such a fiendish expression in the eyes of an animal.”

The limb creaked warningly. Harriet instantly ceased speaking. Somehow, she thought, the muscular effort of speaking must be putting a little added weight on the limb.

The bull walked away a few paces. He stopped and began bellowing and pawing.

“See if you can’t call him away. I simply don’t dare to move as long as he is so near,” said Harriet.

“How shall I call him?” questioned the guardian.

“Flaunt something at him.”

“I haven’t anything to flaunt.”

“Wait till I take off my thkirt,” piped the little lisping girl.

“Be careful that you don’t fall,” warned Harriet.

Tommy quickly stripped off her skirt, then leaning over, swung it back and forth. Instantly there was a bellow and a charge from the enraged bull. The skirt was whisked from her hands on the sharp horns of the furious animal that had charged it.

“Thave me!” cried Tommy. “Oh, thave my thkirt!”

There was reason for alarm in Tommy’s case at that moment. The bull was tossing its head to release the skirt that had become impaled upon the sharp horns. Presently the skirt fell to the ground. The animal began stamping upon and prodding it. Tommy got into action at about the same time. Shrieking and protesting, she began pelting the animal with apples that she picked from the tree for the purpose. Some of the missiles reached their mark. Most of them did not.

“Oh, my thkirt, my thkirt!” wailed the little girl.

“Never mind, you have saved Harriet,” comforted Miss Elting.

Harriet, the instant the bull left her, started to wriggle backwards. The limb gave way with a crash, and Harriet plunged to the ground, but by skilfully twisting her body she avoided striking on her head. She was up like a flash and once more sprang for the tree. This time she did not trust to a treacherous limb, but scrambled hastily up the trunk and perched herself high and safe in the crotch of the tree a few seconds later.

“Gracious! That was a narrow escape,” gasped the guardian. “How do you feel?”

“I am all right.” Harriet smiled faintly. Her cheeks were pale and her eyes large and bright. There were no other indications that she was disturbed at her succession of narrow escapes from the bull. “Poor Tommy, you lost your skirt, didn’t you?”

“Ye—eth. Oh, what thhall I do?”

“I guess you will have to finish the day’s hike in your petticoat,” answered Miss Elting. “However, from present indications it will be dark by the time we get away from here. Besides your petticoat is black and will easily pass for an outside skirt.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” wailed the girl. “I won’t go on thith way.”

“Don’t worry, Tommy. You may have my skirt. I don’t mind going without it at all. I have a black underskirt, so the absence of my outside skirt will hardly be noticed,” answered Harriet.

“I won’t. The naughty old bull. I want my own thkirt.”

“You won’t need it,” said Margery, speaking for the first time since she had been overcome with terror.

“Don’t you think they will go away?” questioned Hazel anxiously.

“Not so long as we are up here,” replied Harriet. “I know their kind pretty well. I was chased by one at grandfather’s farm two years ago. There is only one way to save yourself from them when they are angry—that is to keep out of their way. I think——”

“Oh, look! Look, girls!” cried Hazel in a tone of suppressed eagerness.

“Oh, thave me! There they come,” moaned Tommy.

“It’s the Tramp Club as I live,” exclaimed Miss Elting. “Girls, we must call to them. It is a humiliating position for us, but we must get out of here. They can at least go for the farmer and ask him to drive the animals off.”

“Oh, Miss Elting, please don’t call to them,” begged Harriet.

The boys were swinging down the road at a rapid but steady pace. They were walking in step, each with a heavy pack on his back, hat brims tilted back, a manly looking lot of young men. As they reached a point opposite to the lower end of the orchard they began to sing, their voices raised in chorus:

    “Forty-nine  blue  bottles  are  hanging  on  the  wall,
    Forty-nine  blue  bottles  are  hanging  on  the  wall.
    Take  one  of  the  bottles  down  and  there’ll  be  forty-eight
            blue  bottles  a  hanging  on  the  wall,  a  hanging  on
            the  wall.
    Take  one  of  the  bottles  down  and  there’ll  be  forty-eight
            blue  bottles  a  hanging  on  the  wall,  a  hanging  on
            the  wall.”

“Oh, help!” moaned Margery Brown.

“Thave me!” wailed Tommy.

Harriet and Miss Elting burst out laughing, but not loudly enough for their laughter to reach the Tramp Club, the members of which organization were trudging along past the orchard, wholly unconscious of the nearness of their friends.