“A letter for you, Marjorie,” said Mrs. Wilkinson, two days later. “I don’t recognize the handwriting.”

“It’s from Miss Phillips!” cried Marjorie, as she tore at the envelope. “Oh, I wish I had something to open it with!” She looked wildly for her scissors.

“Girls with bobbed hair certainly do miss their handiest tool, don’t they?” teased Jack. “Well, since you haven’t a hair-pin, I’ll lend you my knife. But I don’t see why you don’t carry your own scout knife!”

“Oh, Jack—in a dress like this?” She glanced in amusement at her dainty pongee Peter Pan, and laughed at the idea of carrying a heavy pen-knife in the pocket, which was really intended rather for decoration than for use.

In a second, however, the letter was opened, and Marjorie was reading it greedily. News from her captain was always more welcome to the girl than anything else, except the presence of the writer herself. “Let’s see it!” said Jack.

The boy, a scout himself, had once gone on a canoe trip, and had camped on a number of occasions, so he was deeply interested in anything that had to do with life in the open.

“Well, we are to wear our uniforms and sneakers, and to take along a sweater, a raincoat, a change of underclothing, three pairs of stockings, two woolen blankets, and our necessary toilet and personal articles; but not any superfluous things that would add to the weight or bulk of our luggage. And each girl is to take her personal scout equipment such as mess-kit, hand-axe, knife, compass, first-aid packet, canteen, field glasses——”

“What about the tents?” interrupted her brother. “What kind are you going to use?”

“I don’t know. Miss Phillips doesn’t say a word about them. Maybe I could take your shelter-half?”

“Sorry, but Mr. Remington is going to take us scouts on some sort of jaunt, so I’m afraid I’ll need it myself.”

“Well, since she didn’t mention it, I guess I won’t bother. Miss Phillips doesn’t forget things, so I suppose she is looking after them herself, and leaving the more personal things to us. She doesn’t say anything about food either, now that I think of it.”

“I’ll lend you my fly-rod,” offered the boy. “I guess I won’t need that.”

“What for?” “To beat carpets with, silly! What does one usually do with a fishing-rod?”

“But we don’t know anything about fishing, Jack.”

“You ought to know after all the pains I took last summer to try to teach you how to cast a fly.”

“That’s true enough,” admitted Marjorie. “I hadn’t thought of fishing.”

“What? Do you mean to tell me that you are going to be on the water for two weeks—fourteen whole days—and you don’t expect to do any fishing? Well, if that isn’t just like a girl!”

“But I’d be the only one among all those girls,” argued Marjorie. “I don’t think any of the rest of them would ever think of such a thing.”

“Well, what if you are? Just think how Ruth would strut around if she were the only one to think of it. Can’t you just see her?”

“You don’t seem to care so much about Ruth, do you, Jack?” said Marjorie, glancing up at her brother through her lashes.

Jack studied the figure in the carpet, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“N-no,” he replied, a bit awkwardly. “I used to think I did, but—I’ve been seeing things.”

Marjorie smiled.

“To come back to the subject again,” continued Jack, after a moment of silence, during which each had been occupied by the same thoughts, “think what fun it would be to catch a nice mess of fish for breakfast; and you could show all the other girls how. Honestly, Sis, you can handle a fly-rod pretty well—for a girl. However, you can suit yourself. To hear me talk, you might think I was trying to sell you something.”

“I believe I will take it,” said Marjorie. “Thank you for suggesting it.”

Jack grunted and strolled over to the window.

“Well, I’d better get to work,” remarked the girl, “or I won’t have my uniform finished in time.”

She folded the letter and turned her attention to the neglected sewing in her lap.

“Speaking of the—er—angels!” muttered Jack, in an undertone, “Look who’s here!”

“Jack, do be careful!” warned his mother, from the other side of the room.

It was Ruth Henry who appeared at the gate.

“Hello, everybody!” called the visitor, walking in unannounced, and making no attempt to give Mrs. Wilkinson a less familiar greeting. “Hear from Miss Phillips, Marj?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder if she said the same things in my letter she did in yours,” said Ruth. “Let’s read each other’s.”

“I’d rather not,” replied Marjorie, coolly. “I don’t care to have anyone read my personal letters—except mother!” “Excuse me for living!” Then, spitefully, “Of course, your mother reads John Hadley’s?”

“She may if she wishes,” declared Marjorie, giving her attention to her sewing.

“Marj, I want to ask a favor,” continued Ruth, in a different tone. “Will you lend me your canoe this afternoon?”

Marjorie frowned slightly; she had other plans.

“If you get back by half-past four,” she said. “Jack promised to give me a few pointers about paddling.”

Ruth drummed with her finger tops against the arms of her chair while she considered the proposition. In reality she had entertained no desire to keep the canoe for more than an hour, but when she perceived that by so doing she might retard Marjorie’s progress toward proficiency in the handling of it, she was overwhelmed by a desire to keep it all afternoon.

“I did want it till supper time. But it doesn’t matter, I guess.”

“Was it something special?”

“Rather! Mother wanted to send a basket of fruit to our washwoman’s little boy—he’s sick, you know—over near the dam. But perhaps I can walk.”

“Oh, no; you take it, Ruth. Unless you could get Harold’s car?”

“It’s being oiled this afternoon. But, really, I don’t think I’d better. It’s more important that you practice up for the races!”

“Don’t be foolish, Ruth!” put in Mrs. Wilkinson, who had been listening to the conversation. “Your errand is much more important. Anyway, Jack can probably take Marjorie tomorrow.”

“No I can’t either,” said the boy. “It’s base-ball practice.”

“Well, then some time before Monday. There’s lots of time yet.”

But when Sunday came, Marjorie realized that there had not been a single opportunity for her to carry out her plan. Three days of rain and more base-ball practices had entirely prevented its execution, and Monday morning found her no farther advanced than she had been the preceding week.

“Anyway,” she remarked to Ruth, as they started together on their journey toward the Silver Creek, “we’ve had so much rain these last few days that we oughtn’t to have any during the next two weeks. And that will be a blessing.”

When Ruth and Marjorie reached the boathouse in the woods where they had inspected the canoes the week before, they found the rest of the party had arrived before them. Each scout, including the captain, was dressed in the official uniform of the organization and the contrast of the khaki color against the green back-ground of the woods and the water made a very pleasing picture. The canoes were lined up at the same place on the shore, in readiness for them; but they were now upright and looked so inviting that the girls longed to get into them right away. Nearby on the ground was piled their miscellaneous equipment; and when the scouts saw what a quantity there was, they protested to their captain that, if they crowded so much stuff into the canoes, there would be no room for themselves.

“We can never get all that in!” cried Ethel. “It isn’t possible!”

“I thought we were to travel light,” remarked Ruth.

Miss Phillips exchanged amused glances with Michael, but she did not argue the point.

“Just wait till you watch Michael and me do the packing!” she said. “But remember, there are five canoes. Oh, that reminds me, you haven’t looked at the names on them yet!”

“That’s so!” cried Marjorie, running towards the canoes, and leaning down to examine them. “Did you get my letter in time?”

“Yes indeed! Now, each scout can find her own!”

“Here’s the Ariel!” cried Frieda, the first to discover hers. “I think that’s an awfully pretty name, Miss Phillips.”

“And here’s the Water-Witch!” announced Ruth. “You were satisfied with my choosing that name, weren’t you, Lil? I always admired witches; they seemed so clever, even if they were bad.”

“I’ve found the Sprite!” called Ethel. “Only, I wish it weren’t so close to the next canoe that I can hardly see the letters.”

“I can’t find the Firefly!” wailed Alice. “Are you sure you got that name on, Captain?”

“Well, that must be it, Alice,” said Marjorie; “for here’s the Will-o’-the-Wisp, and that’s the only one left.”

“True enough!” admitted the other. “And here’s the name as plain as anything. I couldn’t see it for looking at it.”

“Did any of you girls get a chance to practice what I told you last week?” asked Miss Phillips. “I suppose you did, Marjorie?”

“No, I didn’t!” The girl flushed slightly, and glanced questioningly at Ruth in the hopes that she might explain the reason. But Ruth said nothing; she had no intention of coming to Marjorie’s rescue. “It rained so much—and I had my uniform to finish, besides.”

“Marj doesn’t need practice!” said Ruth. “She’ll get the cup anyway, without trying.”

“Your uniform looks lovely!” said Miss Phillips. “In fact, they all do. I think you girls are all to be congratulated.”

All this time the captain had been distributing the folded tents, the cooking utensils, and the food supplies into five piles, so that the heterogeneous mass had already vanished to half its size.

“But all those things will never go in one canoe!” cried Alice. “Remember, we’ve got our raincoats and blankets, and the clothes we brought.”

“Now I believe I’m ready,” announced the captain, after a few minutes’ more work, and when the big pile had completely disappeared. “I am going to pack our canoe and let you all watch. Then you may all set to work at yours, and after they are finished, I will inspect them to make sure they are all right.”

Naturally a neat and orderly person, the captain, having made a little study of the methods of loading a canoe for an extended cruise, was able to pack her equipment as efficiently as any experienced canoeist. And in addition, she had selected a greater amount for her own canoe than for any of the girls’. She unfastened a bundle containing a number of water-proof bags and proceeded to pack in one of these a part of the perishable food from the supply of flour, sugar, tea, rice, oatmeal, salt, bacon and other things. Next, she stowed away her personal clothing into another sack.

“You can put at the bottom the things you are least likely to need; and the things you might want at any time you can put on the top, so that you won’t have to dump everything out to get at them,” she explained. “Now when you draw these strings and tie the top securely, your clothing will keep nice and dry, and even if you should upset, it will float after a fashion. Keep your sweater and raincoat out, so that you can put either on at any time—you can roll the sweater up inside the rain-coat to keep it dry, and put them under the seat or in the most convenient place. My blankets, bed-sack, tent, and mosquito netting will go in another sack. Of course, you’ll need to put the heaviest, bulkiest sacks in the middle of your canoe, where they will act as ballast; and see to it that the weight balances properly. See, my load is now too heavy on this side, and tips the canoe; but I’ll put this sack over there to even things up. There! That rides splendidly, doesn’t it? These cooking utensils we’ll put in wherever we can find a place. Now I’m about ready. It didn’t take long, did it? With a little practice, we’ll be able to pack up in no time. Suppose you all start and do yours.”

The girls had watched the process with increasing admiration, until everything, even including Frieda’s things, were compactly stowed away.

“Wonderful!” cried Marjorie.

“Pretty soft for Frieda!” muttered Ruth. “Now we’ve got to do it all for ourselves!”

They all set to work immediately, but the results were not so gratifying, or so quickly obtained. Alice and Florence even succeeded in getting their heaviest load in the bow, and as soon as Miss Phillips discovered this, they were obliged to take everything out and begin all over again.

Finally, all were ready, and one by one, the canoes were pushed off from the shore. Miss Phillips and Frieda, in the Ariel, took the lead.

At first most of the girls’ strokes were rather uneven, and now and then a splash of water would fall into a canoe. They were all very quiet, so absorbed were they in their new occupation and in the scenery on either side.

“Is it as pretty as this all the way down?” asked Marjorie.

“Even prettier, sometimes, I believe,” answered Miss Phillips.

“Oh, look at that big spider!” cried Lily. “Isn’t he horrid?”

“Only a water-bug, I guess,” said the captain, reassuringly. “And that reminds me, girls, I should like you to keep ‘observation notebooks’. Every plant, animal, insect, reptile, fish, flower—in fact, anything interesting in nature that you can identify, please put down. Then at the end of each day we shall see who has been the most observing.”

“Well, you can all put down that water-spider,” offered Lily, generously. “I’m glad to give him away.”

“Miss Phillips,” asked Marjorie, “are we to pass any merit badge tests, or do any special work in scouting, on this trip?” “Yes, it is my hope that every girl will pass the Sailor’s test before we reach Silvertown. Indeed, I have so arranged the schedule that we remain one morning at a certain camping spot in order to give the test. Because it would be more difficult to do it at Silvertown, among so many strangers.”

“And what does the test include?” asked Ruth, always interested in a new chance to win distinction for herself.

“Oh, it has to do with swimming, and landing a canoe, and tying knots, and—just lots of other things. You can study it up in your handbook, before we take the test.”

“I wish I were a first-class scout,” observed Alice. “Would there be any hope of my passing that test on the trip?”

“I hardly think so,” replied the captain. “But you can do that as soon as you get back to Miss Allen’s in the fall.”

As the heat increased towards the middle of the day, the girls paddled more slowly, often merely directing the course of their canoes, and allowing the current to do the rest. Miss Phillips did not urge them forward; she realized how weary they were by their eagerness to stop for lunch.

“Be sure to land carefully,” she told them. “We don’t want any upset cargoes.”

“Save the food at least!” laughed Florence. “I’m simply starved!” Their lunches for that day had been packed by their mothers and savored more of a picnic than of camping out. There was chicken salad, and dainty nut and cheese sandwiches, ice-tea in thermos bottles, and home-made layer cake.

“And isn’t it great to be on land again!” commented Ruth. “Why, my legs are stiff already!”

“Is our afternoon trip long?” asked Doris, in a tone that might signify her willingness to remain where she was.

“Oh, hours and hours!” joked Miss Phillips.

“No—it really isn’t. We must stop early so that we will have lots of time to put up our tents and cook supper before dark, since this is our first experience. Not more than an hour and a half, and then watch for a cedar grove. See who can find it!”

“The Will-o’-the-Wisp will discover it!” cried Marjorie. “Just watch us!”

So hungry had the girls been that there was almost no food to pack away; and soon they were on their way again, taking care, however, to exchange positions in the canoes. Ruth was glad of an easier pull, and though she would not admit that she was tired, when Marjorie announced that she thought she espied the grove they were looking for, it was a very welcome sound to Ruth’s ears.

In less than five minutes, the girls were paddling up to the shore, looking for a convenient place to land.