big fire on camp stools or
cushions, and the boys waited on the girls in true picnic style. There
were substantial viands, as the evening air caused hearty appetites, and
Dolly settled herself comfortably on a divan improvised of evergreen
boughs and gratefully accepted a cup of hot bouillon and some sandwiches
that Bob brought.

Edith Holmes was sitting by Dolly, and she was chuckling with laughter
as Bert told her the joke he had played on his sister.

After supper the merry young people sang songs and glees round the fire
until it was time to go home.

"Daddy said he'd come for us," said Dotty laughingly to Dolly, "but of
course he didn't mean it for he knew the boys would be here to take us
home."

"I'll just remove these blocks of wood before I start," said Bert, as
he quickly tore off the clumsy and cumbersome things.

"Now I can walk better," and he stood on his own shoe soles and at his
own height.

"I'm awfully glad you're here again, Bob," said Edith Holmes, as they
said good-night, "and I'm glad you're here too," she added to Bert
Fayre. "Our camps are so near that we must play together a lot."

"Nice girl," commented Bert, as the quartette walked away. "Lots of nice
people at that party."

"Yes," agreed Bob, "girls are nice at parties, but sometimes we don't
want them around. Be sure to be up, old man, by sunrise to-morrow
morning, for we're going fishing early."

"Can't we go?" asked Dotty.

"No, ma'am! No girls need apply. A real fishing trip is a serious matter
and we can't be bothered with girls. When we come home to-morrow night,
if Mother says you've been good children all day, you can have some of
our fish."

CHAPTER XIII

THAT LUNCHEON

To Dolly's surprise she discovered that Bob and Bert were in earnest
regarding their preference for expeditions that did not include girls.
Nearly every day the two boys went off fishing or motor boating with a
lot of their cronies, but the girls were seldom asked.

"They're always like that," said Dotty, carelessly. "They like to ramble
through the woods or cruise around the lake by themselves. They wear old
flannel shirts and disreputable hats, and they eat their lunch any old
way, without any frills or fuss. I don't like that sort of picnicking
myself, I like pretty table fixings even if they're only paper napkins
and pasteboard dishes. But the boys like tin pails and old frying pans
and they catch their fish and cook 'em and eat 'em lik