A couple of days later Winona took Florence and Puppums, and went exploring in the rowboat. Louise and Helen were very busy making a tree-house, but they promised to see that Hike the Camp Cat was looked after and no belated advertisement answerer got him.

The Merriams rowed about a mile along the river, in the direction away from the village, without finding anything more interesting than a muskrat, who disappeared when Puppums barked at him. But just a while after this thrilling incident they rounded a bend, and there in a red canoe, placidly catching fish, sat Tom!

His back and that of the boy with him were turned to them, but there was no mistaking him, nor Billy Lee. Neither of them saw the rowboat till it was quite close, and Florence and Puppums howled together in greeting.

“Hello, kid! H’lo, Winnie—you’ve frightened the fish!” was his brotherly greeting: while Billy, not being a relation, took off his hat and said politely that he was glad to see them, and how was the camp?

“Oh, never mind the fish!” said Winona, when she had answered Billy with equal politeness. “You can fish any day, but you haven’t seen your family since last week. How do you come to be up here so soon?”

“Captain Gedney worked it somehow—I don’t know how,” said Tom. “Anyhow, we’re here. Good fishing, too. See?” He held up a string of fair-sized fish in proof.

“Where’s your camp?” asked Florence, while Puppums almost had hysterics and had to be handed into the canoe so that he could love Tom properly. “Can I come see it?”

“Sure you can,” said Tom. “No charge for the view. It’s those tents right over there.”

“You know I don’t mean that,” said Florence, pouting. “I mean I want to get out and go over.”

“Oh, wait a day or so, can’t you, Floss?” implored Tom, who plainly didn’t want to be detached from his fishing. “Wait and come over with the rest of the bunch, and we’ll give you a grand welcome, fifes and drums and things. I tell you, though, girls, why can’t you all come use our swimming pool? We’ve just finished damming off a little branch stream into a dandy pond—paved it and all. Started it last year. But you’d have to give us warning, so we wouldn’t be in it.”

“Why, how lovely!” exclaimed Winona. “I know Mrs. Bryan will let us, and all of us brought our bathing-suits.”

“Good enough!” said Tom.

“How was mother—was everything all right at home when you left?” asked his sister.

“Oh, fine and dandy. But what do you think, Winnie, that Children’s Aid child has come. Mother says she’s glad it happened while we were out of the way, so she’d have a better opportunity to get him running smoothly without our help.”

“Him!” said Winona. “Do you mean they sent a boy, not a girl?”

Tom laughed. “They certainly did—a darky about twelve, as black as your hat, and a regular Topsy.”

“Good gracious!” said Winona, laughing.

Mrs. Merriam had written to the Children’s Aid Society a little while before for a girl of about fourteen—black preferred—who could help with the dishes out of school hours. She had heard nothing about it, and the family had completely forgotten it till now.

“When did he get there?” asked Winona.

“The day before I came away,” said Tom. “It was wash-day, and that colored washerwoman mother has opened the door. First we knew she came back and said: ‘There’s a white woman and a young colored gemman to see Mrs. Merriam.’ So mother went out, and came back in a minute with the agent, an awfully nice sort of a girl, and the smallest, solemnest, black boy you ever saw. Mother didn’t want him at first, but the agent-girl swore he had all the virtues, and needed a good home and moral training. Then she walked off and left him sitting on a chair, staring straight ahead. I tell you, it got sort of embarrassing after awhile. So I asked him his name.”

“What is it?” asked Winona.

“He said, ‘Ah was christen’ Thomas!’” returned Tom, grinning. “So mother told him that I’d been christened Thomas, too, and asked him for his last name. And he said, ‘Ma las’ name’s Clay—but hit ain’ ma callin’ name. Ma callin’ name’s Thomas. But yo’-all kin call me Mistah Clay if yo’ want to!’”

“Did mother want to?” asked Winona.

“She nearly exploded,” said Tom, “but I think they came to some sort of a compromise. I don’t think he’ll leave her time to miss us, for a week or so anyway!”

“Well, I’m glad of that,” said Winona. “Tommy, did you ever know of anything I could do?”

“What on earth do you mean?” asked Tom, while Billy Lee, who had been silently fishing all this time, looked interested.

“I mean something I could do that would earn money,” she explained. “We want to stay in camp longer than we have money for, so we must earn it.”

“The thing you always were best at was darning my stockings,” said Tom cheerfully, and grinned.

“Oh, dear, I just knew you’d say that!” said Winona. “I can’t go round selling darns!”

Billy Lee lifted up his head from a tangle in his fishing-line as he answered, “I don’t see why you couldn’t. I mean—why couldn’t you do mending for the Scouts? If you’d be willing to, I know we’d be glad. There’s an awful lot of holes in my clothes.”

“And nobody to do them?” asked Winona, delighted.

“Not a soul,” answered both boys at once.

“Oh, how perfectly splendid!” said Winona. “Mr. Gedney will know how much I ought to charge for them, won’t he?”

“Yes, or Mrs. Bryan had better tell you,” said Tom.

“Oh, can I have them now?” asked Winona.

“Oh, bother!” said Tom. “Won’t to-morrow do?”

“I’ll get ’em,” said Billy Lee, and made a flying leap out of the canoe to shore.

He was gone a few minutes, and came back with a clothes-basket full of garments of various kinds: also with the Scoutmaster, Captain Gedney.

“Good-morning, girls!” said the Scoutmaster. “This is fine! Billy tells me we’re going to get our mending done!”

“Oh, is it really all right?” quivered Winona.

“Yes, indeed, it’s more than all right,” answered Mr. Gedney enthusiastically. “I was thinking of taking a trip to the village to see if we could find somebody we could put at it, but this is better. Now you get your Guardian to put a price on the work, either by the piece or by the hour. I can promise you spot-cash, and a great deal of gratitude into the bargain.”

So the end of it was that Florence and Winona rowed happily back down the river with what looked extremely like two weeks’ wash in their boat; also with the joyful certainty that Winona, at least, was going to be able to earn her share of the expenses for the extra weeks of camping.

The boys promised to paddle down in a couple of days and get the mended clothes, and—most important—the bill for them. Billy Lee wanted to see his sister, anyway, he said.

When Florence and Winona got back nearly every girl in camp was seated out in the open air, in a big circle, and nearly all of them were talking at once, planning the ceremonial meeting for that night. There was to be a ceremonial fire, a very high and beautiful one with a central pole—this last an innovation which Louise was introducing. And Winona and Marie Hunter were going to be made Fire Makers, Louise and several of the others were going to be Wood-gatherers, and Nataly Lee was going to join.

When Winona joined the circle she found that a good deal of the excitement was being caused by the Book of the Count. Marie and Helen, with paints and pen and brushes, were making the record of the days they had spent in camp a very lively affair.

Winona sat down and looked on at what Marie was doing, and read on the page they had open:

Onthesecondday,Winona,
Ray-of-Light,theCat-Collector
Madeherwayuntothevillage,
Tobuypost-cardsatthevillage.
WithherwentthecheerfulComet,
Ishkoodahwithflamingtresses;
WithherwenttheStarofEvening,
Helen,gentleStarofEvening,
AndNokoma,flower-giver—
Natalytheflower-giver.
Seekingpost-cards,thustheywandered,
Butalas,theCat-Collector
Muchpreferredtobringhomekittens,
Andtoadvertisethosekittens.
Allnextdaythead-replyers
Trackedourcampwithquestingfootsteps,
Askedofus—“Wherearethosekittens?
Giveusseveraldozenkittens!”
For,alas,thosecatshadvanished,
Gonewiththefirsttworeplyers
TotheadWinonapaidfor.

StillaboutourCampcomewailing
Folkwhoseekthecatstheyheardof,
Seekingseveraldozenkittens;
StilltheRay-of-Light,Winona,
Cannotgivethemanykittens,
Cannotstoptheirwrongedinsistence
Onthosekittens,onthosekittens—

“Oh, good gracious!” asked Winona, beginning to laugh before she read any further. “Who did make all that up?”

“I did,” said Marie proudly, “but we all helped.”

“Do you mean to tell me that any more people have come catting to-day?” demanded Winona.

“Only seven,” said Helen. “Winnie, you’ll never hear the last of this.”

“Well, Mrs. Bryan, I’ve found some work to do that will earn money,” said Winona, hastily changing the subject. “Florence and I went up to the Scouts’ camp, and Mr. Gedney gave us the boys’ mending to do. He said you were to put a price on it for us.”

“Twenty to twenty-five cents an hour,” supplied Mrs. Bryan promptly. “You’d better have some of the other girls help you, too, dear, for there’s enough work there to take up a good deal of your time for three or four days, and you don’t come camping to turn yourself into a sewing-girl, even for the good of the camp.”

“Very well,” said Winona. “Who hasn’t picked out any special work to do yet?”

“Nataly Lee,” said someone.

“Neither have I,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll help, too.”

A half-dozen of them went off to a sunny spot, produced a large alarm-clock to time themselves by, and put in two hours of work immediately. That is, all but Nataly. She got tired at the end of one hour, and went off, she said, to lie down. The others got the mending almost done, for many hands make light work. Then they piled up the basket again, and went back to camp. It was Winona’s turn to get supper that night.

“There ought to be about four dollars’ worth of work in that basket,” said Helen thoughtfully when they all met at supper.

“It’s probably more than we’ll have next time,” said Winona. “But anyway, it’s a steady income. Let’s hope they’ll be kind, and wear big, awful holes in everything they have.”

“They will, unless they’ve had a change of heart since last week,” said Louise.

After supper was cleared away the girls set about collecting wood in the open space on the top of the little hill, for their ceremonial-fire. It was the most happy and successful meeting they had had, and also, as Louise expressed it, the most beadful. It ended in a ghost-dance around the fire. After it was through the girls lay still and told stories, which gradually became more ghostly than the dance. It was very pleasant till bedtime came. Then even the bravest of them made dashes for their tents; and Mrs. Bryan, making her rounds after the camp was asleep, found five lighted candles keeping ghosts out of five tents in a row!