CHAPTER VII

THE LOVING BANDIT

When the girls went down to the lake with Mackey that evening, they were, somehow, a source of curiosity to those friends not members of the charmed circle of Scouts. To be away from home, living in a tent out in the woods, while even the Boy Scouts had to go back to their family cottage at night, seemed highly exciting. But the Bobbies were now a unit, and under the capable direction of Miss Mackin they started immediately to do things as they are done by units, and not by individuals.

"We will go for a sail this evening," planned the director. "I see you have all passed in the swimming tests and therefore are permitted to go in canoes."

"Oh, yes," Corene replied; "swimming is our chiefest joy, and canoeing on this lake, what we have had of it, is simply ideal."

"I am sure folks will be curious about us for a while at least," continued Miss Mackin, "so I have asked Camp Norm to let us take the big canoe this evening, the one we teachers practice in, you know."

"The big green Pedagogue!" exclaimed Cleo. "Oh, how splendid! I have just longed for a ride in the war canoe," and she hurried to do her part in clearing away the supper things.

"Cleo," interfered Corene aside, so that Mackey would not overhear, "you know there is a real Scout way of doing dishes, and----"

"All right, Corey; but let's do them any way to-night, so that they get done," replied the little girl in the big gingham apron. "I just want to get down to the lake and out on the water before the sunset fades. Daddy and all the folks will be there----"

"Show-off!" taunted Madaline, the baby of the patrol. "Cleo thinks that canoe-riding is next best to horseback riding," and she made a juggler's pass to catch the plate that slipped through her dish-towel.

A half-hour later the Bobolink girls were down at the dock, the center of an admiring party which included some Camp Fire Girls, some girls from the Hikers Club, besides the usual scattering of summer girls, all piling on compliments for the day's achievement in the opening of Camp Comalong. Miss Mackin wore her regular uniform, which she had with her, fortunately, and all together the patrol made a very creditable showing, as they took their places in the war canoe.

After some instructions from Miss Mackin, who, among other things, insisted upon "good form rather than speed," they pulled out gracefully, the "Down Paddle" start having been executed by the eight doubles as precisely as if done by a simple stroke.

And wonder of wonders! There was a moving-picture man on shore, grinding his machine as if each grind depended on speed and not upon form, for only in a sudden burst of strong sunset light did the camera operator hope to get a picture of the Girl Scouts on Lake Hocomo.

"In the movies!" breathed Julia, dipping her paddle with such awe as might have been occasioned had some perfume stream sprung up through the many springs beneath the water's surface. It was sweet, indeed, to be pictured thus, and not a Bobbie among them but felt a little tinge of pride when the boys shouted after them:

"You'll be in the movies, girls!"

"Queer how much more important we are to-day than we were yesterday," remarked Cleo analytically.

"Because yesterday we were girls, while to-day we are Scouts," explained Mackey. "That's the value of team play, you know. Now we will paddle in to the Point, and see that we make a perfect landing. That's one thing we have to learn in good canoeing."

Dip after dip took them gracefully down the lake to where the Point landing jutted out among all sorts of craft, the motor-boating being easily as common at the lakeside as is the "motor-caring" at any inland parkside.

"I hope we don't jam them," whispered Grace to Cleo, who was her canoe partner.

"If we have to jam anyone, I hope it's that 'streak'--you know, Grace, that queer bug-boat those girls from the hotel always ride in."

"Why?" asked Grace, leaning closer.

"Because they're snippy and call us 'candy kids,'" replied Cleo. "It seems to me they look more like candy themselves, with their taffy hair and peppermint-striped bathing-suits."

Grace silently agreed, and soon all the paddlers bent their interest and energy on making a perfect landing.

At the director's signal they stopped paddling some little distance out, then steered past the flock of motor boats into the side of the dock, where as pretty a landing was made as the big Pedagogue ever had to her credit.

Miss Mackin and Corene sprang ashore first, and held the boat while the others quickly and alertly followed.

Again they were the center of an admiring throng, and again the Bobbies felt suffused with a pardonable pride. They were really the first group of Girl Scouts to be seen about the lake, and it was not surprising that they should attract some attention.

Some provisions for the next day were purchased, as the Point was the center of supplies for the colonists, then, after a half hour spent in recreation about the pier, the party embarked again and paddled back toward the camp landing.

The evening "had ripened" as Louise expressed it, and a calm mellowness seemed to settle over everything about the water and its shores.

"Let us try a song," suggested Miss Mackin. "Who can lead?"

"Weasy!" came the chorus; and presently the newest version of popular songs, adjusted to the Girl Scout needs, with clever words that just fitted the tunes, were "tried" and rather successfully executed. The clear, true voice of Weasy carried along the more uncertain tones of Grace and Cleo, like chips of sound on the crest of a song wave, and once started the "sing" went merrily on until the home dock was finally reached.

A sigh of satisfaction ended the chorus. The Pedagogue was docked and stored for the night, although the interested Benny and his clan crawled under the big canoe "just for sport," the Bobbies said good-night and turned back to the hills for their first night under the stars.

It was almost dark as they hurried along under the trees, and it was not by accident that each little girl clutched the arm of her companion. They needed the nearness on this first night, at any rate, and Cleo more than once cast a surreptitious glance back over the lake to Chipmunk cottage, where she knew, at that very moment, Daddy was looking campward and thinking of his little girl who had flown from the home nest for the first time.

But she trudged along eager for the big experience, even if conscious of its sentimental cost.

"One lantern will answer for us, I think," said the director. "Shall we have a campfire and story to-night?"

"Oh, yes, surely!" replied Corene, who managed to frame first the same answer the others attempted.

The two big logs, between which the fire was to be built, were already in place, and it was now time for Julia to shine in her especial department. She undertook to build the stone oven for the cooking purposes, so she also included the responsibility of making place and arrangements for the campfire.

Following the camp manual "no paper nor excelsior nor other artificial means" were to be employed in the fire making, but instead the "punk" wood, gouged from the heart of a dry log, was placed in the "V" of the two big green logs; then the tiny twigs and light material were first piled up so that the "light with one match only" was successfully accomplished, and a merry blaze burst out to greet Julia and cheer her companions, almost before the others realized the fire was really started.

Every member of the little patrol stood looking on--spellbound. What is more inspiring than a campfire in the clearance, with the tent "hard by" and the sheltering trees overlooking?

"Oh, if only we could get the girl Peg, you know, to come down and join us," sighed Grace.

"Let's try," suggested Cleo. "She seemed friendly and it won't do any harm to try. I'll go over the hill with you?"

"If Mackey will let us," followed Grace. The other girls were finding seats on the big logs arranged at a safe distance from the fire, and when the director heard the request of Grace and Cleo, she agreed they might go over the hill to the cabin, if they kept to the path in front of the other camps and came directly back.

It was not yet dark and the two Bobbies started off on a merry chase, as usual. Near the cabin they met Shag, the big collie, and he made friends promptly, perhaps because they wore the same sort of brownish outfit his own mistress was usually dressed in.

"Shall we go right up and knock?" deliberated Cleo. Now that they faced the cabin they faced also its restrictions.

"No," reflected Grace. "We had better call."

Suiting the words to action she cupped her hands and "Whoo-hooed" once or twice; then waited.

No answer.

"Call, use her name," suggested Cleo, leaving the duty to Grace.

"Peg! Peg-gee!" called Grace. "Hey--oh! Peg!" she trilled in a curly sort of call.

Shag seemed restless now and his manner was less confident. He didn't wag so enthusiastically, but instead sniffed with suspicion.

Finally the cabin door opened and Peg appeared. She hurried down and met the girls where they waited.

"We came to bring you over to our first campfire," Grace almost spluttered. She was excited and in a hurry to return to camp before the night should overtake them.

"Oh, I really couldn't go!" protested Peg, but her voice was toned with a hint of regret.

"You've just got to," said Cleo. "We are bandits and we're going to kidnap you!" and quite as if the play had not been all planned, each Scout slipped her arm into the arms of Peg and urged her forward.

A ripple of girlish laughter answered the challenge, but Shag didn't like it and he growled threateningly.

The girls stepped back for a moment, fearing the dog might attempt to interfere, when another figure appeared in the doorway. It was Aunt Carrie, and she very quickly and decidedly ordered Shag to "come here, sir," which he did, by that time realizing his very natural mistake.

"Really, girls," said Peg. "I do thank you for being so friendly, but I can't go."

"And this our first night on the grounds and you the original Scout!" sulked Cleo. "At any rate it is getting so dark I don't see how we will dare go back alone."

"You _are_ a bandit," laughed the stranger, "and I suppose----"

"That you must come," Grace finished happily. "Hurry, do please! The fire is going high, just see it! And we may miss the story."

"You stay here then," ordered Peg rather shyly, "while I get my cape from Aunt Carrie. Shag will be sure to call for me later."

Grace and Cleo danced a few steps while waiting, but in a very few moments Peg was back with her cape over her arm.

"I can't tell you how surprised I am," she admitted. "I so very seldom go calling."

"But you are a Scout and you wouldn't be unfriendly," almost charged Cleo.

"Maybe that's it," returned Peg; and arm in arm the trio stumbled back to the campfire, for it was quite impossible to walk without stumbling when retarded by darkness from taking the jumps and jerks necessary to the ordeal.

When they reached Camp Comalong Mackey was just starting her story.