, and the melancholy Jake Rickets set to
work getting wood for a fire, for it was not to be thought of that Miss
Prescott could go without her cup of tea. In the meantime the girls
spread a cloth and set out their fare. There were dainty chicken
sandwiches with crisp lettuce leaves lurking between the thin white
"wrappers," cold meat and half a dozen other little picnic delicacies,
which all the girls, despite their aerial craze, had not forgotten how
to make.

The boys set up a shout as, returning from attending to the aeroplanes,
they beheld the inviting table.

"This beats camping out by ourselves," declared Roy, "girls, we're glad
we brought you."

"Thank you for the compliment," laughed Jess. "I suppose you mean that
you are glad _we_ brought all this."

She waved her hand at the "spread" dramatically.

"Both," rejoined Jimsy, throwing himself on the grass. By this time
Jake's kettle was bubbling merrily, and soon the refreshing aroma of
Miss Prescott's own particular kind of tea was in the air. The boys
preferred to try the water from the brook, despite Jake's dire hints at
typhoid and other germs holding a convention in it. It was sweet and
cool, and the girls voted it as good as ice-cream soda.

"At any rate as we can't get any we might as well pretend it is,"
declared Bess.

So the meal passed merrily. After it had been concluded, amid gay
chatter and fun, Peggy proposed an excursion to the woods for wild
flowers which grew in great profusion on the opposite side of the
stream. Crossing it by a plank bridge, the young people plunged into the
cool woods, dark and green, and carpeted with flowering shrubs and
vines.

For some time they gathered the blossoms, and were just about to return
to the aeroplanes and resume their journey when Peggy uttered a sudden
sharp exclamation:

"Hark! What's that?" she cried.

They all listened. Again came the sound that had arrested her attention;
a sharp cry, as if some one was in pain or fright.

Then came definite words:

"Don't! Please; don't hit me again!"

"It's a child!" exclaimed Jimsy.

"A girl!" cried Peggy, "some one is ill-treating her."

"We'll soon find out!" cried Roy hotly. It infuriated the boy to think
that a child was being subjected to ill-treatment, and the nature of the
cries left no doubt that such was the case.

"Stand back here, girls, while we see what's up!" struck in Jimsy.

"Indeed we'll do no such thing!" rejoined the plucky Be