"We will surely want a hike for the fun of it," resumed Cleo, "and I
don't believe we could enjoy the mountains, if bush and bramble bite at
our regular skirts. The khaki is so strong and durable, it defies even
the wild black berries, and you know what pests they are."

"Well, I brought each of us a little note book; daddy gave them to me,"
said Madaline, "and let's sit down, and make out our lists and
schedules. Isn't it thrilling? Surely this is as good as a honeymoon,
just as Grace says. We might call it a 'Junior Jaunt,' I'm going to
put that at the head of my note book," and the dimples dotted in
advance the precious page of preparations.

While we leave the chums to their plans for the vacation at Bellaire,
which is to be much more than a vacation in its exploits, experiences,
and adventures, we may renew our acquaintance with these same girls met
in the first volume of the series: "The Girl Scout Pioneers; or,
Winning the First B. C." As told in this story it was through the mill
town of Pennsylvania, known as Flosstown, because of its noted silk
industries, that the True Tred Troop of Girl Scouts found scouting a
delightful means of getting in touch with girls in the mills, whose
characteristics and peculiar foreign traits stamped them as
picturesque, novel and fascinating. Tessie and Dagmar, two girls of
the Fluffdown Mills, decide to break away from their surroundings and
do actually run away, falling into the "hands of the police," in a most
peculiar way.

Dagmar is housed in a novel jail, while Tessie is "at large" still,
trying to make her way to the beckoning city, with its alleged thrills
and glories. After disastrous experiences Tessie obtains employment in
the home of the fairy-like Jacqueline Douglass, and through the jolly
scouting of Cleo, Grace and Madaline (the trio who tied a man to a tree
in River Bend Woods) the runaway girls are finally brought together at
a Fairy-Fantasy in the wildwoods, all secretly planned by Jacqueline.
The identity of the man who was the "victim of scouts" is finally
disclosed, and the mystery is eventually unraveled. A hidden deed,
worthy of particular merit, was privately marked to the credit of Cleo,
who had risked her life to save that of another girl, and, in doing so,
had promised herself no one would know of the adventure. But for this
she is finally awarded the Bronze Cross, much to her own and her
companions' surprise.

The story has a purpose,