"We had better get down near the front," she said, "or we'll not be able to get ashore in half an hour. Did you ever see such a mob?"

"It is considerable of a crowd," Frank admitted. "I think Mollie's suggestion is a good one, fellows. Let's try to make an opening while we can."

The boys managed so well that when the little boat scraped against the wall, their party was almost the first to set foot upon the land.

"That was pretty good work," said Will, with an air of satisfaction as they made their way to the shore, followed by a stream of laughing humanity. "I hope the girls didn't mind getting their dresses mussed.

Say, fellows, if any one should ask me, I'd tell them it was one peach of a day!"

There being no disputing this fact, no one tried. The eight young people swung down the shaded street, feeling in tune with the whole world.

They succeeded in finding the general store.

"Now get out that list, Allen," said Betty, as they entered the wide doorway. "It would really be a shame to forget anything."

Allen began to search through his pockets, calmly at first, then in frantic haste. Seven pairs of eyes followed his panicky movements anxiously.

"You have never gone and forgotten it?" cried Mollie, in the awed tones of one announcing the end of the world. "Oh, Allen! you haven't?"

"Guess I have," he returned grimly, and, having searched through every pocket, began all over again. "It's strange--I could have sworn----"

"You're a nice one----" Grace began, but Roy interrupted her with a shout that made their nearest neighbors turn and look at them curiously.

"I have it!" he cried. "Don't you remember, Allen, that you gave it to me just before we left, while you ran back to get something for Betty?

Behold," and he dangled the precious list before their eyes.

"Oh," sighed Mollie in relief, "now if we girls had done anything like that----"

"Hands up, don't shoot!" cried Roy. "We admit everything."

CHAPTER XII

"WHERE THERE IS SMOKE----"

The Outdoor Girls must have a fire. That they had decided at the supper table. What was the use of having a big fire-place if they never used it? Betty's theory was, that it was wicked to let anything go to waste.

All this being true, it stood to reason that a fire they must have.

"I wonder if the boys wouldn't come in and help us build it," Grace suggested, seized with a brilliant idea. "There are already some logs in the fire-place, but I feel that I would like to have somebody else work for me to-night."

"Why, of course," said Mollie. "That's what we brought them with us for--to help out when they were needed."

"They would be flattered if they could hear you," said Amy.

"I don't see why they insist on staying out in the woods and cooking their own meals. Just think what fun we could have with them, if they were here now," put in Mollie once again.

"Yes, but then think of all the trouble they would be making us," said Betty. "Besides," she added, "your aunt didn't say anything about a troop of noisy boys, Mollie, when she lent us her bungalow for the summer."

"That's right, too," Mollie reluctantly conceded. "Just the same I hope they haven't forgotten they are due here at six-thirty to wipe the dishes. There is _such_ a pile of them!"

"Methinks," Grace announced solemnly, "that even at this moment I hear the sound of approaching footsteps."

"How can you hear footsteps on the grass?" Mollie demanded rudely. "You must have better ears than I have."

"Of course I have," Grace retorted calmly. "I knew that long ago."

Before Mollie could answer a head was poked in at the door and an accompanying voice asked cheerily: "May we come in? Are we on time?"

"You're as welcome as a day in June, Frank," called Betty, as she arose and started to take the dishes into the kitchen. "We want you to wipe these for us, and make a fire."

"Anything else?" Frank inquired mildly, while the rest of him followed his head into the room. "The fellows told me to come on ahead, and say to you ladies that they would be here as soon as they got through scouring their frying pan."

"Poor boys," said Amy impulsively. "Why don't they bring the things here?"

But Mollie's thoughts took another direction. "I hope they bring back the sapolio," she said practically. "It was the only cake we had."

Betty paused half way to the kitchen and balanced her pile of dishes on one hand. "Mollie," she cried in dismay, "they will never think of it!

Don't you think you had better go back and tell them, Frank?" she said.

"Sure!" he answered obligingly, while he sunk into an easy chair with a sigh of content. Evidently he was settled for the evening.

"Then why don't you go?" Mollie demanded impatiently. "If boys aren't the most aggravating things, when they want to be!" she added.

"There's plenty of time," Frank assured her calmly. "I left the fellows in the first throes of cleaning up--they won't be through for half an hour at least."

"Well, I don't care," said Betty, continuing her journeyings into the kitchen. "If we haven't anything to scour the pans with, then they'll not get scoured--that's all."

"That's the spirit I like to see," said Frank, and Betty could have thrown something at him, with the greatest of pleasure. "It's fine to see anybody resigned to the inevitable."

"Well, I know one thing," Mollie threatened, "if you don't go back in five minutes, I will," and for emphasis she banged the salt cellar forcibly upon the table.

"What's the matter with our going together?" Frank inquired, moving his head slightly to bring Mollie within his range of vision. "The distance won't seem half as far if I have such pleasant company," he added gallantly.

"Don't do it," Betty, coming in from the kitchen, advised. "Make him work a little."

"Oh, you're only jealous because I didn't ask you," Frank teased. "I always knew you thought a good deal of me, Betty."

She made a little face at him, but did not deign to reply. Indeed, why should she--the accusation was so plainly absurd?

Long before they had expected, voices were heard in the distance and the most unearthly noises broke the woodland stillness. There was a banging of wood upon tin and the clatter of utensils mingling with the outrageous uproar from three pairs of sound and healthy lungs. There were shouts and war cries and yells, combining in a weird clamor that could be heard for miles around--or so it seemed to the girls.

The girls looked at each other inquiringly--then made a concerted rush for the door.

"Oh, what a noise!" cried Betty. "It's just as well there isn't anybody else in this part of the wood."

A moment later the boys rushed upon them, vigorously pounding utensils, and shouting at the top of their voices. The girls gave way before them, and the roisterers tumbled in and took possession as though they were really the Redskins, whose cries they were successfully imitating. They raced about the house like madmen, while the girls watched their antics in a peculiar frame of mind. If the truth must be told, they were undecided whether to be displeased or amused. Amusement conquered in the end, however, for the boys were irresistibly funny, and the girls laughed till they ached and the tears rolled down their cheeks.