cried Ruth, throwing her arms about Miss Sallie. "I thought she wasn't her usual charming self. Of course the boys shan't go down the hill again to-night. I don't know where they will sleep, either; but Bab will bring her fertile brain to bear upon the situation."

"Why, Miss Stuart!" Ralph spoke in relieved tones. "Is this why you are not pleased to see us? We expect to go down the hill a little later. On our way up we stopped at a farm house, and the people promised to take us in for the night. We'll come back early in the morning, since Hugh and I must be off again by afternoon. Mrs. Post is waiting for us in Boston."

"Oh, must you go so soon, boys?" pleaded Ruth. "We are planning the jolliest lark. We are to have a c.o.o.n hunt up on the hill with some acquaintances we have just made in Lenox. They are to have supper with us, and are to bring up a guide and some c.o.o.n dogs for our hunt later on.

And you simply must stay at the cabin to-night. See, there is a lounge here in the living room, and we have plenty of quilts and steamer rugs.

One of you can have the couch and the other can sleep on the floor by the fire."

"May we, Miss Sallie?" Hugh queried.

"As you like, boys," declared Miss Stuart, now completely restored to good humor.

"Then let's stay by all means!" urged Ralph. "What should we expect to sleep on except the floor or the ground? This is the most effete camping party I ever saw," he declared, looking around their cosy little cabin.

"You have all the comforts of home, here!"

"Do you think you and Ralph can stay for our c.o.o.n hunt, Hugh?" asked Bab.

"Oh, for sure, Barbara," Hugh a.s.serted. "I will fix things up with the mater for a day; but we shall have to be off the next day without fail.

Now, I have an awful confession to make."

"What is it Hugh?" Ruth demanded.

"Ralph and I are starving!" he answered. "We were so bent on getting up to your hut before it was too late, we didn't have time to get any dinner. Could you, would you, just give us each a hunk of bread to stay our appet.i.tes?"

"You poor souls!" cried Ruth. "Come on out in the kitchen with me, Mollie. Let Bab and Grace do the entertaining. We'll fix you some eggs and bacon in no time, the best you ever tasted. Our cook has gone to bed."

"Let's have a feast for everybody," proposed Bab. "May we, Miss Sallie? I am dreadfully hungry again. I haven't had anything to eat for at least two hours and a half."

"Come, turn in then, everybody," Ruth called cheerily. "Here, Bab, you undertake the Welsh rarebit and get out the pickles and crackers. Mollie, get Hugh to help you open these cans of soup. Grace, you and Ralph, set the table and talk to Aunt Sallie, while I fry my precious bacon."

"I never heard of such an extraordinary combination of things to eat. You will ruin your digestions," was Miss Sallie's comment. But she ate just as much as anyone else.

At midnight the girls were at last in bed. Hugh and Ralph, both wrapped in blankets, were in blissful sleep before the camp fire. They had scorned to accept the offer of the couch, wishing to enjoy camp life to the fullest extent. So peace followed good cheer in the hut.

CHAPTER XI

THE c.o.o.n HUNT

"Ere in the northern gale The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The woods of autumn all around our vale Have put their glory on."

chanted Ralph bowing low to Barbara, as she joined him in the clearing in front of their house before breakfast next morning. "See, mademoiselle, what a fine poem I have thought out for you! Behold in me the poet of the Berkshires!"

Barbara laughed. "You are a second-hand poet, I am afraid, Ralph. I happen to know that those lines were written by William Cullen Bryant.

But come into breakfast and stop your poetizing. We have a busy day ahead of us."

Ralph and Barbara found Ruth with a big sheet of paper in her hand and her brow wrinkled into a serious frown.

"We must decide at once what to have to eat at our supper party to-night.

Naki is in a hurry to get off to the village, so as to be back in time to help with the preparations. Listen, chilluns, while I read you my menu,"

commanded Ruth solemnly. "I am going to have a regular, old-fashioned supper party with everything on the table at once. Naki and Ceally can't serve so many people in any other style. Besides, if we have to eat supper at eight and start off on our c.o.o.n hunt at nine, there won't be time for many courses. So here goes: Roast chicken, 'ole Virginy' ham, sent by Mr. Robert Stuart for just such a special occasion, roast pig and apple sauce, chestnuts, sweet potatoes, jellies, pies, doughnuts----"

"Cease, and give me breakfast ere I perish at the thought of overeating,"

remonstrated Hugh. While Miss Sallie protested, as she sat down to her breakfast, "My dear Ruth, are you planning to feed an army, or to entertain a few guests at supper?"

"What shall we do to help with the preparations, Miss Sallie?" queried Grace.

"Just keep out of the way as much as possible, child," Miss Stuart answered.

But this suggestion did not agree with Ruth's ideas. "At least, Aunt Sallie," she expostulated, "we may be allowed to decorate the hut as we like."

"Certainly, child. Spend the day bringing the woods into the house, and to-morrow in throwing the trash out again, if you like. Only don't interrupt Ceally and Naki."

At half-past seven everything was ready for supper. As for the c.o.o.n hunt, no one of "The Automobile Girls" had the faintest conception of what it would be like, and Miss Sallie was as ignorant as the rest of them.

"It is only an excuse for a midnight frolic among the young people," she thought, indulgently. "I presume no mischief will come of it."

A barking of dogs announced the approach of the guests. Four lean hounds, brown and yellow, baying and straining at their leashes, tore up the hill. Already the keen mountain air stirred them. Br'er Possum and Br'er c.o.o.n were even now placidly eating their suppers. The dogs longed to be at the night's business.

While the young people feasted inside the cabin, the men who were to conduct the hunt prepared the pine torches to light them on their way.

"You feel sure this is a proper expedition, Mr. Latham?" asked Aunt Sallie nervously. She was standing at the door, waiting to see the party start off. "Hugh," she called at the last minute, "promise me to look after Ruth and Grace. Don't get separated from them, or I shall never forgive you. Ralph, I trust you to take care of Mollie and Bab."

But Reginald Latham was standing near Miss Stuart and overheard her instructions to the two boys.

"Oh, I say, Miss Stuart," he quizzed in the affected fashion that so angered Mollie, "can't you trust me to look after Miss Thurston? I have a score to pay back to her for her rescue of me in my airship."

Mollie put her arm in Ralph's as they walked out the door together.

"Don't mind that Latham man," she whispered. "I can't see why Bab likes him. See, they are starting off together."

The great horn blew; the dogs barked violently.

Twenty people, each carrying a pine torch, lit up the shadows of the quiet woods.

"When I count three," said Mr. Latham to the keepers, "you can let the dogs go."

One! two! three! and the hounds were off, their noses pointed along the ground, their tails standing out straight behind them.

"Is c.o.o.n hunting a cruel sport, Ralph?" Mollie inquired. "If it is, I would rather stay home."

"I don't know; this is my first experience," Ralph replied. "But hurry along, little girl!"

"Hurrah! The dogs have a c.o.o.n on the run!" shouted some one in front. A poor old c.o.o.n had been driven from his comfortable hollow tree, and was running for his life over the hard ground, pursued by excited dogs. Close behind followed the hunters with their horns. And, tumbling over one another rushing pell-mell after them, came the crowd of heedless young people. The party separated. Two of the dogs tracked another c.o.o.n.

"I half hope Mr. c.o.o.n will win this race!" panted Barbara, close behind Reginald Latham. "Remember Uncle Remus says, 'Br'er c.o.o.n, he was wunner deze here natchul pacers.' Certainly he has me outcla.s.sed as a runner. Do wait for me, Mr. Latham!"

Reginald Latham had run ahead of the rest of the party, and was tearing down a steep hill with no light except from his pine torch. The moon had gone behind a cloud.