sailed down the bay early this
morning--it must have been a very early start. They are going to stay
over, and Julia says if the wind is right, we may all go out for the
afternoon. Of course, it's a lovely prospect, but what's the use of
making plans? Why not just grab them?"

Grace had ridden over on her bicycle, and the exercise furnished her a
wonderful beautifier--had she real need of the process. Eyes shining,
cheeks glowing, with almost dewy softness of color, even Cleo,
ordinarily indifferent to temperamental changes, commented on her chum's
appearance.

"I do believe, Grace," she remarked, "the dampness is good for the
complexion. You're as downy as a peach."

"Dampness is a beautifier. Leonore says so. That's what makes Newport so
popular. Ever see the hydrangeas grow there? But Cleo dear, you haven't
been forgotten in the fog. You are rather peachy yourself."

"Nay, nay, false friend. Tempt me not--I shall not desert the ranks for
movies," and Cleo struck one of her popular attitudes. "But about the
sailing ship-ahoy! I'm ready. What time do we embark?"

"Julia will call us all up after lunch when she gets a line on the
wind. I believe it has to be in 'on high' to get us up the bay. All
right," and Grace mounted her wheel. "We will all be ready, and
hereafter little Captain, count me out on the program cards. They do
better when left to the inspirational, as our own Captain Clark would
say."

To be able to learn, to be elastic to the point of flexibility, is
surely the secret of all progress, and these girls of True Tred had
little need of such a lesson.

The Blowell stood straining at its cable at Round River dock when the
scouts, numbering a troop, scampered aboard. Julia's cousins, Mae and
Eugenia Westbrook, prided themselves on their nautical skill, and
nothing could possibly be more promising for a day's sport than a sail
on the Blowell.

"Scouts! Scouts! Rah, rah, rah!"

"True-Treds! True-Treds--Sis-boom ma!"

They shouted the call till every last one had climbed into the "pit" of
the graceful sailing vessel, and like a sturdy strong crew they
appeared; the scouts in their reliable khaki, and the captain and mate
in their shining white duck, with the regulation yachting cap, jauntily
but securely set on their capable heads.

From the tips of the mast "Old Glory" floated to the stiff breeze, the
ceremony of raising the colors having been complied with according to
Girl Scout formality. Cle