Nataly did not see in the least that Louise was laughing at her, but Helen did, and gave Louise a severe pinch. "Guying" was something that the camp spirit allowed only if the victim knew what was being done to her. But where Nataly was concerned it was hard to make Louise behave.

"Well, you know," said Nataly, "I am thinking of going home. It makes me nervous, the idea of Aunt Lydia being near enough to pounce down on me every minute. She is _so_ energetic. And my nerves are nearly all right now."

"Then you really think you will go back?" said Winona.

"I really do, as soon as the carnival is over," said Nataly.

"Well, as I said," said Winona hastily, for Louise looked as if she were going to suggest an earlier departure, "I'm going up to Wampoag this afternoon to buy things with the boys."

"I have a 'gagement to make baskets with Frances," said Florence, "so I can't go with you."

"I will if you want me," offered Louise. "I have various things I want to say to you alone."

"That sounds dark and dreadful!" said Helen good-naturedly. "I think we'd better not volunteer to go along, Marie!"

"We couldn't, anyway," Marie reminded her. "There's a lot to do on those war-bonnets yet."

So that afternoon Louise, Winona, Billy and Tom paddled up to the summer resort in quest of decorations.

"Have you any idea how you're going to trim the canoe?" asked Louise.

"I've thought it all out," said Winona. "I found the idea in an old book of ballads Marie brought along. It was called 'The Ship o' the Fiend.'"

"Pretty name!" said Louise. "Who's going to be the fiend? Please don't all speak at once!"

"I'll be the goat," said Billy. "Winnie told me a little about it. The ballad was about a girl who went off with an old fiance, and he turned out to be a real live demon."

"Yes," said Winona, "the tall topmast no taller was than he," it says.

"Well, I draw the line at stilts," said Billy sleepily. He was curled down in the bottom of the boat basking in the sunshine, for Louise had insisted on taking a paddle. "What do I have to do?"

"The first thing," said Winona, "is to wake up enough to sit up and be consulted. How much copper wire ..."

The rest was inaudible, for Billy moved closer to Winona, who talked to him mysteriously under her breath. The others could hear sc.r.a.ps like "j.a.panese auctioneer ..." "fifty yards ..." "red paper muslin," and such illuminating fragments.

"How much money have you got for me to spend, Tommy?" Winona broke off to inquire.

"Four whole dollars," he said, "earned by splitting wood for a farmer."

"I certainly am obliged," she said, "and I'll pay it back."

"You'll do no such thing!" he said. "I should hope I could give my own sister a lone four dollars once in awhile!"

"All right, you can," said Winona soothingly. She pulled out the paper the boys had secured and given her, and began to read it aloud.

"Cash prizes in the canoe cla.s.s, first, twenty-five dollars, second, ten dollars, three third prizes, five dollars each. Now you see, if I get a third prize I'll be a dollar in, and all the glory reflected on Camp Karonya besides!"

They took a street-car when they got to Wampoag, because the shopping district was a long ways off, and it was a hot day anyway. Tom and Louise watched the other two with curiosity, as they went from store to store, buying things that it seemed impossible could fit into each other; copper wire, red tinsel by the box, paper muslin in what seemed unlimited quant.i.ties, though it was really only a little over a dollar's worth. Then Winona went into one j.a.panese store alone, and came out with a bagful of paper lanterns and a k.n.o.bby bundle which she refused to undo or show. They hunted all over three streets for Greek fire, before it occurred to Billy to go back to the hardware store where they had bought their copper wire. He came out with three boxes of it, labelled "Blue,"

"Green" and "White," and seemed rather sad because they had no lavender or gray fire in stock.

"'They bought a pig and some ring-bo-ree, and no end of Stilton cheese!'" chanted Louise softly. "How on earth are you going to connect all that crazy stuff?"

"You'll know, all in good time, my dear," said Winona sedately. "We can go home now. The worst is over."

"We deserve a soda, at least, for all this," said Billy.

"Marble-dust," said Tom solemnly. "Some day, Bill, if you keep on drinking sodas, you'll turn into a statue, and your sorrowing relatives will have to put you up in the hall for an ornament."

"Glad I'm as lovely as all that comes to!" said Billy with a grin. "They couldn't do it to you, old fellow-you aren't pretty enough!"

"He is pretty, too," said Louise stoutly. "Somebody told me only yesterday that they thought Tom was so poetic-looking, and had a striking head."

Billy laughed out loud, and Tom wriggled.

"I take it all back, Louise," he said. "He _is_ beautiful."

Tom gave a sort of mournful growl.

"Oh, cut it out, Billy!" he said. "If you really want that soda, here's a drug-store."

"A striking head," mused his sister, c.o.c.king her own head on one side, to look at Tom from this new point of view. "I really think you have."

"If ever I meet the fellow who said that, he'll find out I have a striking fist," muttered Thomas darkly, walking into the drug-store ahead of the rest, and sitting down at a table in the back. "Four walnut sundaes, please. No, I don't want 'em all myself. The others are coming in the door now."

For the next few days Winona, at a point half-way between her camp and the Scout's camp, worked steadily over the paper lanterns she had bought. She covered them all with white paper, and cut out holes in the paper after the fashion of eyes, nose and mouth, until, if you were not too critical, they looked like big oval skulls. If you _were_ critical, they might remind you, it is true, of jack-o'-lanterns, but n.o.body was unkind enough to say so but Tom. There were forty of them altogether, and when they were all covered, and brought down to camp out of the danger of being rained on, and festooned about Winona's tent, the effect was truly awful. Tom, who had been watching his sister's performance with interest, came over one day with five little paper-mache lanterns which he presented to her, two in the shape of black cats, and three like owls.

"I don't know yet what you're going to do," he said, "but if Bill's going to wear horns and hoofs, and those things over the cot are meant for skulls, I should think these would come in handy."

"They're just exactly what I wanted!" said Winona with rapture, hanging them with the rest. "Now I've nothing to do but my dress."

She showed him several yards of black paper muslin and a sheet of gilt paper. "It doesn't look promising, I know," she said, "but it will be quite nice, I think, when it's done."

And it really was. Helen helped her to fit it, and they made it with the dull side out, close-fitting, and covered with the stars and crescents of the traditional witch-dress. She was done with it, even to the pointed hat and black half-mask, in very good time.

"Now," she said to the boys, standing over Billy's canoe where it had been pulled up in the gra.s.s, "now comes the tug of war. Tom, you said you would help me."

"I did," said he. "What shall I do?"

"Then please nail these poles to the end of the canoe. They're about six feet high, aren't they?"

"Yes. Do you want them sticking straight up into the air?"

"Straight up, please," she said.

"Billy's flying around in the town like a hen with its head cut off,"

said Tom as he proceeded to do what his sister asked, "trying to buy something he won't tell about. And I found Louise and Helen up at Camp Karonya, winding tinsel into b.a.l.l.s like fury. Strikes me you ought to share that five you won't get with the whole crowd of us."