and to both the American girls and those of
foreign extraction it shows the value of such safe and sane agencies as
the Girl Scouts, while the book is absorbing in its plot, quite
irrespective of the Scout detail.

And now the three girls of True Tred Troop are deciding to shed their
drills and meetings, while seeking adventure in the pretty town of
Bellaire, nestled against the New Jersey mountains. Madaline had
furnished the note books, while she and her companions were furnishing
the notes.

"There," decided Cleo, jerking her head to one side in the bird-like
way that had earned for her the name of Perky, "if we carry all these
plans out we will surely have a wonderfully neat trip. I want it to be
neat, and I positively protest against bananas, oranges, or other
slushy fruit en route. When we want to eat a la carte we must
dismount. Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if our car should break down,
and we would have to finish our journey on muleback!"

"Or take a stage coach!" suggested Grace.

"I prefer an express wagon, it's more roomy," put in Madaline, "and a
stage coach in Jersey would be nothing but a plain jitney, full of
women, and bundles----"

"And nary a bandit to hold us up, except the charity campaigners
demanding their toll," finished Cleo. "Well, I guess we had best stick
to the good touring car, and thank our lucky stars dad has business in
New York, and momsey wants to do some shopping, that includes everybody
and everything. Now there is nothing left but the horrible details,
all written down in Madie's nice little books. Thank you, Madie, for
the contribution, and now let's adjourn. There is no end of things to
attend to. Isn't it just glorious to think of having at least a month
in the best part of young summer?"

They all thought it was, and with the decision their actual
preparations were begun.

CHAPTER II

BEAUTIFUL BELLAIRE

The great day had come, and with it the girls arrived in Bellaire,
after a delightful motor trip from Pennsylvania. Stopping in the
morning at New York, Mr. Harris, whose guests they were, piloted them
to one of the big hotels, where their own touring car took its place in
the long line of handsome motors, and where Collins, the Harris
chauffeur, looked quite as important as any of the other uniformed
drivers.

"Now, suppose we were all piled up with hat boxes," whispered Grace to
Madaline, for Grace had a distinct liking for good style.

"But isn'