ie was the law of the camp-fire.
The latter had taught them many brave lessons in the game of life,
lessons in self-denial, in sympathy and loyalty, and they were ever
anxious to prove that they had learned their lessons well.

Though, once in a while, besetting sins would crop out and Lucile would
cry, despairingly, "Oh, why did I do it; I knew I shouldn't," and Jessie
would stop, when plunging nobly through a box of candies, to cry
penitently, "Oh, I've eaten too many," and Evelyn would often be tempted
to read too long and neglect her work, still, on the whole, they were
infinitely helped by the wholesome teaching and precepts of the
campfire.

"Oh, he's got a letter," cried Lucile, as Phil took a flying leap into
their midst.

"Say," said Phil, eyeing them pityingly, "don't you fellows know it's
time to eat?"

"It's never dinner-time yet," said Jessie in dismay.

"Yes it is, too," Evelyn contradicted. "Just look where the sun is."

"Where is it?" cried Phil, and then, as his gaze wandered to the sky, he
added, with an air of relief, "Oh, it's still there; how you frightened
me!"

"Goose!" his sister commented, and then, looking at the envelope he still
held in his hand, she added, "Who's the letter from? Be sensible and tell
us about it."

"Oh, that?" said Phil. "That's a letter from Jim. Seems to be getting
along first rate."

"What does he say?" asked Jessie, all interest.

Phil eyed her speculatively. "I tell you what I'll do," he said. "I'll
tell you about it on the way home."

The girls laughed and Lucile explained, "You see, he's never happy far
from home and dinner."

"You seemed to get away with a mighty generous supply of oysters yourself
the other night," Phil grumbled good-naturedly.

"Well, if I did, I was only obeying the camp-fire law, 'Be healthy,'"
Lucile defended warmly.

The girls laughed and Jessie murmured something about, "That's right;
keep 'em under."

"What's that?" Phil demanded, but Jessie evaded with another question:

"When are you going to tell us about Jim?"

"Here we are, half the way home, and you haven't even begun," Evelyn
added.

"Well, he seems more than satisfied with his engineering, and most of his
letter is taken up with praises of Mr. Wescott and his wife and how good
they are to him. He says the luck he's had almost makes him believe in
fate."

"Well, there certainly did seem to be a fate in the way young Mr. Wescott
just happened up to camp in the