"So you could soar into the circ.u.mambient ether and leave all mundane things below?" queried Jess Morse, with a chuckle.

"No," said Bobby, in disgust. "So I wouldn't have a toothache. I was up with one of my old grinders half the night."

"Have it pulled," suggested Laura.

"Say!" cried Bobby. "That's the easiest thing in the world to say and the hardest to do. And you know it, Mother Wit! You can have an old toothache that will make you feel like committing suicide; and when you get to the dentist shop you wish you _had_ committed suicide before you got there," and jolly little Bobby began to grin again.

"Suicide is a serious matter," said Nellie, gravely.

"Surely, surely," the cut-up replied, dropping her voice to a gruesome pitch. "Listen!

"'Beside a sewer a man lay dead, A dagger in his side; The coroner's decision read: "He died of suicide."

'Now if this man at home in bed, Had in this manner died, Then could the coroner have said: "He died of homicide"?'

"Never joke about serious things, Nell."

"Hush, Bobby!" commanded Laura Belding. "Tell us, do, if your father has agreed to let us go camping on Acorn Island?"

"Of course," replied the younger girl. "And he says there is a cabin there that can be made tight for ten dollars. It's all right to camp under canvas; but if a big storm should come up he says we'd be glad of that cabin."

"Great!" announced Jess Morse.

"The cabin shall be your mother's particular shelter," said Laura.

"Eh, girls?"

"If she is kind enough to go with us," said Nellie, "she should have the very best of everything."

"She can have _my_ share of the wood ants and red spiders," chuckled Bobby. "But it's all right, girls. Father Tom says we can have the island to ourselves. And believe me: this bunch of girls of Central High will sure have a good time!"

Which was a prophecy likely to be fulfilled, if the past adventures of these same girls were any criterion of the future.

For more than a year now the girls of Central High, together with those of the other two high schools of Centerport and the high schools of Lumberport and Keyport--all five--had been deeply interested in the Girls' Branch League athletics. In following the various games and exercises approved by their instructor, Mrs. Case these six girls introduced above, had engaged in many and varied enterprises and adventures.

In "The Girls of Central High; Or, Rivals for All Honors," the first volume of this series, Laura Belding ("Mother Wit") was enabled to interest one of the wealthiest men of Centerport in girls' athletics so that he gave a large sum toward the preparation of a handsome athletic field and gymnasium for Central High.

The second volume is ent.i.tled: "The Girls of Central High on Lake Luna," and the third is "The Girls of Central High at Basket Ball"--the t.i.tles of which tell their own story.

"The Girls of Central High on the Stage," the fourth volume, tells of the writing and first production by her mates of Jess Morse's successful play, while the fifth of the series is ent.i.tled: "The Girls of Central High on Track and Field; Or, Champions of the School League."

Laura, Jess, Nellie, the Lockwood Twins and Bobby were girls of dissimilar characters (that is, if we count Dora and Dorothy as "one and indivisible" like the Union of the States). Laura's brother Chetwood, his chum, Lance Darby, Billy Long, and some of the other Central High boys were usually entangled in the girls'

adventures--sufficiently to give spice to the incidents.

So, all considered, it was only reasonable that the girls should have eagerly agreed upon the site of their summer camp--Acorn Island. They knew that the boys would probably have their own camp on one sh.o.r.e or the other of the lake, and within sight of the island.

Chet, who seldom failed to walk home with Jess and carry her books--unless the gymnasium called the girls after the school session--and Lance, who filled like office of faithful squire to Laura, joined the girl chums on this afternoon.

"Got it all planned, have you?" Chet said. "I hear Acorn Island is going to be overrun with a gang of female Indians right after graduation."

"We have got to go up there to keep watch of you boys," laughed his sister. "But it's nice of Bobby's father to let us camp there."

"Pull--sheer pull," grumbled Lance. "We fellows tried our best to get permission to camp on the Island."

"Well," said Jess, demurely. "You can come to the island visiting. It will be perfectly proper. My mother says she will go to chaperon us, now that she knows there is a cabin there."

"And Bobby's father is going to send a couple of men up from Lumberport to make the cabin tight and fix things up a little for us.

We'll pitch our tents on the knoll right by the cabin," Laura said, eagerly.

"Pretty spot," agreed Chet. "We'll probably have our camp in sight of it and the lake between the south sh.o.r.e and the island is only about two miles broad."

"Oh! we'll have a bully time," his chum agreed.

"Say!" Chet said, suddenly, addressing Lance Darby. "What was professor Dimp saying to you about camping? I heard a word or two.

Something about going to the island?"

"Why! I forgot to tell you about that," returned Lance, quickly, while the two girls cast enquiring glances at each other. "Old Dimple is certainly an odd stick."

"As odd as d.i.c.k's hat-band," agreed Chet.

"And no-end forgetful. He's been worse than ever lately. There certainly is something worrying him."

"You boys," laughed Jess.

"Something worse than boys," Lance returned. "It's a shame how forgetful he is. Say! did you hear what he did at Mr. Sharp's the other night?"

"No," said the others, in chorus.

Lance began to chuckle. Mr. Franklin Sharp was the princ.i.p.al of Central High, and was very much admired by all the pupils; while Professor Dimp, because of his harshness and his queer ways, was the b.u.t.t of more than a few jokes.

"It was night before last when it rained so hard," resumed Lance. "He was there going over Latin exercises or something, with the Doctor.

Mrs. Sharp asked him to stay all night, when it came on so hard to rain, and the old Prof thanked her and said he would.

"Mr. Sharp went into his office to do something or other and left Old Dimple in the library for a while. The family lost track of him then.

Right in the middle of the hardest downpour, about eleven o'clock, the front door bell rang, and Mr. Sharp went to the door.

"There was Old Dimple, under a dripping umbrella, his pants wet to the knees, and his pajamas and toothbrush under his arm----"

"Oh, Lance!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Laura. "That is too much to believe."

"Fact. He'd gone home for his nightclothes. I got it from our hired girl and she got it from Mrs. Sharp's maid. So, there you have it!"

"But you didn't tell us what the old Prof was saying to you about camping," reminded Chet, when the general laugh was over.

"Why! that's so. And it was odd, too, that he should take any interest in what we fellows were going to do this summer."

"What about it?" Jess asked.

"He wanted to know if we were going to pitch our camp, too, on Acorn Island? He seemed to know you girls were going there."