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Dorothy Dale's Camping Days

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<hr /> <h2>CHAPTER VIToC</h2> <h3>OFF FOR CAMP</h3> "But Cologne won't wait another day. I have got to be off to camp," Dorothy insisted. "Isn't our camp good enough?" asked Joe. "We have not seen you for so long—and now off you go again." "Yes, and I thought she was going to cook for us. I guess I don't want to camp with the fellows cooking," murmured the disappointed Roger. "I am sure I would love to stay at the Cedars longer," their sister assured them. "But you know I must keep my engagements, and I am to live in a real camp this summer." "And Tavia is going, too," Roger went on. "If she was around here there might be some fun." "Perhaps you both can come to Maine for a stay. Then you would see the great big moose you hear so much about. If they are not to be found alive I am sure we could manage to see some dead," said Dorothy. "Now be good boys, and I'll see if I can arrange that." She was saying good-bye to her brothers, and a half hour later she had taken her chair in the train bound through New England en route for Maine. The few days spent at home had been so delightful—even her Wild-West adventure had ended up happily, for Royal Drake, the erstwhile bandit, did all he could to make up for his "crimes," and even went so far as to take Dorothy to a big tree, in the hollow of which he had hidden considerable loot, during his try at the "wild and wooly." This loot Roy took back to his own home, which had been the first scene of his juvenile depredations. He declared he did get out of a window with the stuff, and otherwise fulfilled the attempt in true desperado fashion, but before Dorothy left him, she felt that he had changed his mind as to the propriety of this line of "fun." "I hope I meet Tavia on time," Dorothy was thinking, as she neared the station where her companion was expected to board the train. "If she keeps up her reputation, though, I won't. Something is sure to happen when Tavia goes traveling." Summer folks were taking themselves and their luggage into the crowded cars. It did seem that the privilege of carrying freight personally was being abused, for old and young were simply bending down under the weight of the stuff for which they struggled to find room in the passenger coaches. "That would simply spoil my vacation," Dorothy reflected. "It seems to me each season evolves some new sort of hamper to be hampered with." "Doro!" It was Tavia! "Oh, hello—Tavia. I was so afraid——" "You don't look it. I fancied I saw you sizing up that piece of architecture at the door. Gothic; isn't it?" and Tavia fell into the chair Dorothy had emptied for her. The "piece of architecture" took the sofa at the end of the car, and she appeared to need every bit of it for her hat, and other pieces of luggage. "Funny how the porters always like that sort of thing," remarked Dorothy. "I don't believe they ever get a cent for it, either." "But look at the glory," said Tavia. "Every eye in the car is on that sofa. My gaze is simply crowded out. Let's want something. Oh, yes. I have lost my—'Porter!'" called Tavia sweetly, at the same time touching the button at the window. The man in the brass-buttoned uniform turned promptly. "I have lost my hand bag," said Tavia. "I surely had it when I entered." Persons in several seats around disturbed themselves. Dorothy's face flushed. How absurd Tavia was to make that confusion, just for fun. Every time Tavia stooped to look under the seat, or about it, she would pinch Dorothy, which act did not add to the latter's comfort. "Oh, I have it," exclaimed the wily one. "Thank you so much," and she smiled clear up and down the aisle. "I was sure I had it," and taking her seat, she managed, in the most conspicuously discreet way, to slip into the porter's palm something shiny. "There," she added, when he was gone, "wasn't that neat, Doro? He is ours now for the rest of the trip, and the lady on the sofa is nil." Dorothy knew it was worse than useless to protest, but this was not the sort of thing she considered fun. "Did you have a pleasant time at Dalton?" she asked, hoping to get Tavia's attention. "I was so sorry I could not go up for a day." "You might be glad," replied Tavia. "Of all the stupid times—I would have run away but for Johnnie. He took me fishing, and I—wore overalls! Oh, only out in the woods, of course, but it was sport, and I caught fish! It's skirts that hoodoo the catch. I have come to that conclusion." "In what woods did you wear—overalls?" and Dorothy looked almost frightened. Might Tavia have the garb with her? "Oh, away out Mushroom way. And I stretched out just like any respectable boy, and cast the line! Dear me, Doro! I would just loved to have smoked! That would have made it—perfect!" "There isn't a shock left in me," Dorothy assured her, "so don't try so hard Tavia. I am simply immune. You must have looked just—sweet—in overalls. I hope they were dark blue." "Are," corrected Tavia, "are dark blue," and she wheeled around out toward the aisle just as a young chap in white flannels passed along. He looked down at her in that pardonable way common even in the best style of traveling. Dorothy breathed more easily when he passed out to the next coach. "Wasn't he dear?" commented Tavia. "Doro, I just know we are going to have a perfectly bang-up time, this summer." "Take care you come out of it without too much 'banging' up," cautioned Dorothy. "This summer business is getting exciting." "Wonder if we will see the man of the horse? He who made such beautiful bows, and acted so—actly. Wasn't he lovely? My, I have dreamed of him, Doro!" "Foolish," replied the other. "Nat said he fancied that chap would make trouble." The thought that Cologne might have whispered to Dorothy something about Tavia getting a letter from this man just flashed across her mind. Tavia was always getting into some foolish scrape, and kept Dorothy busy getting her out, and it just occurred to Dorothy that it might not be a bad idea to let Tavia try getting herself out, should she repeat her usual indiscretions of risking too much for the sake of some trifling whim. "Bangor! Bangor!" called the porter, and our friends gathered themselves up to make the change for Lake Monadic. "I must get a shoe shine," said Tavia, as they stepped on the platform of the big depot. "Just wait here. I won't be three minutes." "We only have five," Dorothy told her, "and if you are late—I must go on. Cologne is going to meet us away out from camp." "Oh I'll be back," promised Tavia, and then she was lost in the throng. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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