The following morning the campers were awakened by Wickee, who jumped about, barking at the birds that sat on the boughs of the trees near by. Doubtless, the denizens of the forest wondered what strange creatures were reclining on the spruce beds on the plateau.

As one girl after the other sat up and rubbed her eyes, she looked about in bewilderment at first, then smiled as the novelty of the night's experience appealed to her.

"My! I slept like a log!" ventured Elena.

"I never slept so fine in my life," added Jane.

"I'll never want to sleep in a city house again, after this summer," affirmed Zan, as she rolled out on the grass.

"All I can say is that I've no kick coming about these beds. I wish we could lug them back to the Bluff to use every night," came from Hilda.

"There goes some more slang! I haven't my pad here but I won't forget it," reminded the Tally Keeper.

"Oh, bother your pad on such a wonderful morning! Better look for breakfast instead of corrections over my slang!" retorted Hilda, a trifle peeved at being caught napping in her manner of speech.

"Come, girls—we have to have water from the spring," called Miss Miller at this juncture, from the small fire-place she had built.

At that, the girls jumped up and hurried to attend to their several duties; soon after, breakfast was ready.

The top of the mountain was so delightful that the Band delayed their return to Camp until nearly noon. Meantime, Nita grew nervous and wanted to start back before the others were inclined to go. Several times she asked Miss Miller the time, and was irritable and impatient. The Guide kept close watch of her peculiar actions and waited to see the outcome.

At last Cheokee was started on the homeward road and Nita calmed down. She was very quiet but when the girls took the road that led to the house instead of the one that passed Bill Sherwood's house, Nita objected.

"Well, then let me get out here and walk to the Bluff," she said, pettishly, when Zan reminded her that Cheokee had to be put up in his shed and some vegetables gathered for dinner.

Miss Miller did not want to compel the girl to do anything she really did not want to do, so she suggested that Nita get out at the Little Bridge and stop at Mrs. Sherwood's for the meat that Miss Miller had asked the farmer's wife to buy for them.

Nita eagerly consented to this, and jumped out, running down the road that went past Sherwood's.

The girls, puzzled, watched her for a moment or two, then Zan drove on to the barn.

Nita was nowhere in sight when the girls reached the Bluff although she had had quite half an hour in which to get the meat and carry it to camp.

"She must be down at the cottage being entertained by Mrs. Sherwood. Shall I run down and see if the meat is heavy?" said Zan to the Guide.

"We'll wait a few minutes longer, then you may start and offer your assistance in carrying the packages up," replied Miss Miller, wondering if it would be wise to have Zan go after Nita. Then, realising that her concern over the girl made her magnify everything, she decided to stop worrying about it.

Shortly after this, Mrs. Sherwood came up the slope puffing rapidly at the ascent. She had a large brown paper parcel that she deposited as soon as she reached the Bluff.

"That meat don't feel heavy when you hold it at the wagon, but it grows heavier every step you take comin' up the hill," declared she, sitting down on a stone and wiping her brow with a large handkerchief.

"Why didn't Nita carry it up—she offered to do so," asked Zan, impatient at the girl's avoidance of a task.

"That yaller-haired miss! Oh, she was too busy keepin' an eye on Jack Everton's horses to bother about the butcher. The young scape-grace had a tandem this mornin' an' the girl looked just a bit fearsome from the way she hung to the side of the seat."

"Why, Mrs. Sherwood, you don't mean——" Zan started to say, when the Guide, who was standing directly back of her, gave her a warning pinch.

"Yes, I mean that good-for-nothing! What his grandmother ever has him down here for I'm sure I don't know! She's a nice quiet sort of a lady, but that rascal! Well!" said Mrs. Sherwood, misunderstanding Zan's half-completed speech.

Their visitor turned to Miss Miller and continued, "If I had a girl to take care of I'm mighty sure I wouldn't let her go gallivantin' 'round the country with that young sport! But I s'pose you know best. Did her mother say anything in her letter about her?"

"Whose mother?" asked Miss Miller, amazed.

"Isn't that girl's name Brampton?" asked Mrs. Sherwood.

"Yes,—Anita Brampton. Why?"

"Then that letter yesterday mornin' what had Mrs. Brampton's name and address up in the left corner was her mother!" returned the visitor, with a look that said, "You can't fool me!"

"Oh, that letter Nita received was from her mother, Zan, not as you thought, from a post-office nearby!" exclaimed Miss Miller with relief.

"No, it wasn't! I read the post-mark as plain as day! And I know Mrs. Brampton's hand-writing well enough to recognise it! That writing was a school-boy's hand—most likely from this Jack!" retorted Zan.

"An' that letter was addressed to you, Miss Miller—not for the girl!" added Mrs. Sherwood.

"Why, I never got any letter, except from the doctor!"

"And I don't remember bringing one up, either, Mrs. Sherwood. Maybe you left it down in your house," added Zan.

"No, ma'am, I didn't 'cause I never took them in the house. When I went to the mail-box to get the mail I had Bill toot for you immejitly. And you come runnin'!"

Every one looked perplexed and Miss Miller added, "Zan, it may be possible that it was dropped when you took them from Mrs. Sherwood, or on your way up the slope. Run down and look carefully along the pathway."

"It hain't anywhere about where I gave them to Miss Zan, an' I should think some of you or me would have seen it if it had dropped along the way," explained Mrs. Sherwood.

"We've been up and down, you know, Miss Miller, and Nita has been over the ground yesterday noon, and nothing was found!"

Suddenly, the Guide remembered her suspicion of Nita and how she watched her take a letter down to post in the box. She remembered the girl's stooping and picking something up from the pathway, looking back to see if anybody saw the action.

"I think I can find it—we won't say anything more about it at present, but you're quite sure the letter was addressed to me, Mrs. Sherwood?" said Miss Miller, calmly.

"Sure I do! I looked over every one good, an' I says to Bill, Miss Miller's goin' to have plenty of letter writin' to do this summer if she answers all them things these mothers and fathers of the girls will be wantin' to know about their children! And Bill knows the doctor's writin' at a glance—he gets so many from him, and the other had the name, as I said afore!"

Mrs. Sherwood returned home shortly after her valuable information had been given, and the Guide continued a lesson on cookery just as if Nita were present and most obedient. But that didn't prevent the girls from thinking and wondering what would happen to Nita!

Immediately after dinner the Guide said, "Girls, I am going to the house alone, for I have an important matter to attend to; you can sew on your Woodcraft costumes during my absence."

Zan stood in deep thought for a moment after the Guide left them, then ran after her and called. Miss Miller turned about and waited for the girl to reach her.

"Miss Miller, our telephone number is 2345 Hudson Park, and Dad will be in his office from two to three."

The Guide could not control a flash of admiration at the rapidity with which Zan used her thought and common sense. She looked at her watch and remarked, "Thank you, Zan; I'll walk slowly and just about reach the house by two."

The cost of the long-distance telephone never entered the Guide's head, for it was well worth the money to have the doctor advise her in this most deplorable incident.

She was so relieved at the doctor's suggestions that she felt like singing on the way back to camp. She would have hesitated to keep Nita at camp on her own initiative but having Dr. Baker's permission to risk his girl's morals by association with the girl for the sake of winning her over eventually, was like a tonic.

"I don't know but that Nita's very behaviour will have a salutary effect on the other girls, for they will see how despicable a thing it is, and surely they will not care to emulate Nita's manners!" said the Guide to herself.

The girls left alone to work, sewed industriously for a short time, each avoiding the subject that was uppermost in their thoughts. Finally, Jane tried to change her thoughts from the disagreeable idea of Nita's escapade and shared the secret Elena and she cherished.

"Girls, you all wondered what came in that package from the city, didn't you? Well, it was a birthday present for Miss Miller!"

"Oh, Jane! When is her birthday?" cried Hilda.

"I forgot all about it—it is the last of this month, isn't it?" asked Zan, turning to Jane.

"Huh, huh! Now try and guess what Elena and I are making," smiled Jane, exultantly.

Many were the wild guesses made but not one came near the reality. So, Elena, taking pity, told the others.

Zan looked amazed at the lovely plan and immediately turned to Hilda and said, "We can't afford to let them get the best of us—now let's try and think of something novel, too!"

Many, many ideas were suggested only to be refused by one or the other. Suddenly, Hilda noticed the bead-trimming she was sewing on her costume. It gave her an inspiration.

"Zan, let's build her a bead-loom and after it is sand-papered smooth we will decorate it with pyrography work!"

"Great! But, Hilda, who's got any pyrography tools?" asked Zan.

"I have a complete set at home, Zan—let's write a note to mother and have them expressed down at once!" cried Elena.

So the letter was written and sent down to the box before the Guide returned. From that time on there seemed to be much pleasant secrecy among the girls but Miss Miller never dreamed it concerned her birthday, though convinced it boded no ill.

When the Guide joined the circle of busy workers on the Bluff, she said, "I never saw a place where there were so many bees! I have been watching a swarm over by the buckwheat field and an idea came to me. What do you say to our using some of the money in our treasury for bee-hives?"

"Bee-hives! Mercy me, Miss Miller, what for?" laughed Jane.

"We may just as well keep bees as any one else! And just think of all the fun we will have watching and caring for them. Wickee and Cheokee were valuable additions to our Band, but I believe bees will add just as much value."

"Well, if you say so, I'm perfectly willing to get stung!" laughed Zan, making a perfectly legitimate use of slang.

"Bees won't sting if you don't annoy them! We won't tease them, and after we have some swarms in our hives the bees will get to know each one of us by sound and smell," explained the Guide.

"Why, I never knew a bee recognised any one!" cried Elena.

"Indeed they do! Some bees are so intelligent that their owners wait for them to advise about harvesting and haying," said Miss Miller.

"Now, Miss Miller! Stop stringing us!" Zan said, in a doubtful tone.

"But I'm not, Zan. I am in earnest!" replied Miss Miller, laughing at the quizzical faces about her.

"Then let's order the hives at once. Maybe we can have honey before we go back home!" exclaimed Jane.

"Hardly! But we will be well on the way there," returned the Guide, as she went to the tent for pen and paper.

The letter was written and Zan shouted for the postman to wait as she saw him driving up to Sherwoods' mail-box. She ran down with it and, just as she handed it up to the man, a tandem turned from the main-road that went over the Big Bridge and stopped at the side road that went past the farm. Nita jumped out and stood talking to the young man who drove, so Zan ran swiftly back to the Bluff, for she did not wish Nita to think any one had been spying on her.

Miss Miller was called to one side and hurriedly informed of the culprit's return. The Guide looked at her watch and found that the girl had been absent more than three hours!

She walked away from the girls pondering what would be the best step to take with the mistaken child. She hesitated to do any rash thing that might spoil all the impressions that may have caused the girl to think seriously now and then. At the same time, Miss Miller realised that the time had come for stern and definite action on her part, or create a sense of incompetency in the minds of her charges. That would never do, as she would lose any control she had held in school or at camp. She decided finally to have it out with Nita, but alone with her. She returned to the group on the Bluff just as Nita turned in from the road that went past the cottage.

"Girls, would you mind taking a tramp up the ravine? Here's my watch, Zan, do not return for half an hour, or more."

The Guide anxiously waited until they were out of sight on the trail leading to the Indian cave, then turned and waited for Nita.

"Where's everybody?" called Nita, with an air of bravado.

"On a tramp. I waited to have a talk with you, Nita."

"Well, talk doesn't hurt any one, so talk away!" said the girl, insultingly.

"Did you never hear that any one wantonly tampering with the United States mail was considered a criminal and the offence merited a State's Prison Sentence?" said Miss Miller, severely.

The air of braggadocio suddenly left Nita's eyes and her face blanched. She stood looking like a trapped thief. After a long silence, Miss Miller continued.

"I returned from the telephone a short time ago. I was speaking over a long-distance wire concerning you. I had received word previously that a letter to me from your mother was not delivered, and I believe you can explain the cause."

"Me! I didn't get the mail!" retorted Nan, trying to regain her nerve by showing a false front in speaking.

"No, but you went down over the path after Zan brought the mail here. I saw you stoop and pick up what evidently did not belong to you—if actions are to be considered."

Nita pondered and said nothing.

"Nita, I am not reviewing these matters for the sake of humiliating you, but I want, with all my heart, to lift you above temptation. You never had a fair start in life, but I want to prove to you that there are many, many better and far more interesting pleasures for you to enjoy than corresponding with or clandestinely meeting a young man who is not fit to associate with Woodcraft girls. If you will but trust me, you will find what a friend I can be! Even your mother says she can feel perfectly at ease knowing that you are with me!"

"Mother, pooh! What does she know about me! She never takes the time to talk with me about anything but clothes, beauty and company! It's true, she has nagged this past year about my always telling stories and making excuses, but doesn't she do the same with father? Why should I be different when I see it succeed every day in avoiding a scene about bridge games or women he doesn't want coming to his home?"

Miss Miller felt still deeper sympathy for the poor misguided girl and her voice was more loving as she said, "Where is my letter, Nita?"

"How should I know?" shrilled Nita.

"I am not your mother, Nita, and you do not have to make excuses to get out of a scene. The truth will be the only way with me to end an unpleasant interview."

Nita looked seriously at the Guide for a few moments. Evidently what she saw had a softening effect. She stood with her fingers twisting a handkerchief for a time, then said, "I buried it!"

"Can you find it readily?"

"If I want to. I know the spot well enough!"

"Then you will go for it when we are through with our talk, but I think it is time to tell you a few things that I am quite sure you never heard before. From all I hear, your mother would avoid speaking to you on this subject, but I have always maintained that it is a mother's sacred duty and privilege to advise a daughter so that she cannot possibly take a wrong step during her years of character-forming."

Nita looked about nervously as if she wished to run away, but the Guide drew her down to a log and sat with an arm over her shoulder. She began in an interesting way to tell the girl about her own maidenhood and what a wonderful mother she was blessed with. She attributed all of her present success and happiness to the warnings and advice of that fine woman. Then, she said, "I have no idea of marrying or having children of my own, so I consider it my privilege to help other girls who do not have the homes where they can seek knowledge for future guidance.

"Nita, dear, I know more than you think I do, of your need of just such knowledge, and a friend who is eager to help. You have been travelling the wrong trail all of your life, and it may be that you are now selected by the Great Spirit to show the mistakes in your home life, and introduce a new order of things."

After a long talk of past errors, her present misunderstanding of the life of a Woodcraft girl, and the bright future open to her for mere acceptance, the Guide concluded, saying, "Nita, you must not rebel at what I am now going to say."

The girl had listened with surprise at the Guide's first sentences, which showed that she was acquainted with certain conditions of the Brampton's home habits. But the poor child had never had any one explain so simply and conclusively the awful evil finally resulting from a life such as she was beginning. She saw the entire mistaken view her parents took and wondered that they could be so blinded to her well-being. She heard with trembling, of the results of indulgence in wine and promiscuous fellowship. And Nita wept and was thoroughly shaken as the kind voice continued showing pictures of what is sure to come to one who is irregardless of morals and the conscience within us given by the Great Spirit for the leading along the pathway from earth to heaven.

When Miss Miller made her final request, Nita was so plastic that she could mould her into any future.

"Would you mind telling me how this meeting took place to-day?"

"He wrote a letter yesterday asking me to meet him again on the Big Bridge this morning. When I heard you were all going to night-camp I knew I wouldn't be back in time, so I sent a letter to say I would meet him at noon. That's why I was in such a hurry to get back to camp," sobbed Nita.

"Is he all you would choose in a friend or brother?"

"Mercy, no! Oh, Miss Miller, he is horrid, but he seems to make me do just as he says when he looks at me with a queer glint in his eyes. He has money, and when his grand-mother dies he will inherit all of her fortune, too. Mother says I must marry a rich man when I grow up—she says it will never do for me to be as poor as father is. And I don't want to be poor, either!" cried Nita.

Miss Miller gasped at the revelation of the foolish mother's advice. "Why, Nita, dear, you are only fourteen! You mustn't even think of a husband yet!"

"But every one says I seem much older; even this Jack Everton looked surprised when he asked me my age."

"Poor, poor child! What a joy and blessing you have missed by being so old while still so young! Now, we will remedy this loss and show you how to really enjoy youth!" Miss Miller had tears in her eyes as she spoke.

Nita looked at her for a moment, then obeyed the impulse to hug the woman who had been fearless enough to show her the light on the way.

They sat quietly holding each other for a short time, until the voices of merry girls reached them from the ravine.

"There, dear, run down and find the letter for me. When you return your face will be cool and natural again."

Nita hurried away and Miss Miller ran into her tent and threw herself beside her cot. "Oh, thank you, God! thank you, thank you! I am so happy over this one lamb found on the steep mountain-side! Safe in the fold, she will grow to love purity and truth better than evil."

The girls were bubbling with delight over their walk—the bugs, the birds, and even a snake, had been watched and admired.

"Didn't Nita come back yet?" asked Zan, after a short interval, and no sign of the girl was to be seen.

"Oh, yes, Nita and I have had a long talk and we are going to be the best of pals after this," replied Miss Miller. But her tone gave the girls to understand that not a word of the girl's escapade would ever be mentioned again.

Nita returned and took the dirty letter to the Guide's tent, leaving it on the cot.

Later in the afternoon, Miss Miller took the letter and read it with deepest pity for the girl.

"To think that she read this! No wonder the girl cried that day!"

The letter said that Mrs. Brampton had had her whole life filled with worry and disappointment over her only child's waywardness. That she intended trying a different method of training. She knew how Nita continually lied to her, and that the past year she feared that she was actually meeting young men slyly when she should be visiting friends, or at home practising music and studying school lessons.

Mrs. Brampton said she herself had so many social engagements to keep that she could not be expected to stay home to watch a wayward daughter. But she had at last decided to do something her dearest friend had suggested. Nita would be sent to a reform school—a very select and expensive place, but a reform school, all the same. Of course, she would have to meet other girls there, perhaps much worse than she, but at least Mrs. Brampton would not have to bother about her child's running about the streets.

As long as Miss Miller kept Nita on the farm, it would be all right, as far as she (the mother) was concerned, but the moment Nita was sent home, she would be packed off to a safe place.

"No wonder the poor child displays the weaknesses she does. It is our duty to train her for a better life than the one her mother can aspire to. I think I would have buried this letter, too, had I been the daughter of such a mother!"

The letter was destroyed and Nita saw the Guide throw the tiny pieces in the fire when supper was started.

That night the camp sat about the fire telling stories and recalling funny things of school-life. It was an atmosphere of unity, and Miss Miller felt for the first time since they started the Camp that she would be fully repaid by the improvement of the members, and the womanhood they would eventually reach after striving for ideals, one just a bit higher than the other, year after year, until the goal appeared.

Finally, Zan exclaimed, "Oh, we forgot the Thermos bottle with the indigestion in it!"

Every one laughed, and Miss Miller hurried to her tent to get the bottle. It was brought over to the fire and the Guide lit a candle to enable the girls to see with ease the thing she was about to show and explain to them.

The two tubes were taken from the warm water in which Miss Miller plunged a thermometer to assure the girls that the temperature was the same as the evening before.

"This is the tube in which we put a little whiskey—see the effect the alcohol has had on the egg? It is shrivelled and even harder than when it was first placed in the tube, although it has had the same advantage of digestive fluids and acids that the other tube and our stomachs have.

"Now look at this other tube in which nothing but digestive juices were left. This uniform pasty mass at the bottom of the tube is the digested egg. This ought to prove infallibly what a drink of any alcoholic liquid will do to your digestion, and after a time, to your whole physical system."

The girls stared with amazement at the result of the test on the contents of the two tubes, and then looked up at the Guide with an expression that plainly said, "No alcoholic drink for us, no matter how alluring or in what company it is presented."