"The others may call it harder," prophesied Blue Bonnet. "Never mind, the Senora and Sarah will make up for it at dinner-time," said Kitty. "Night-night!" said Blue Bonnet, preparing to leave. With her hand on the tent-flap she paused. "Shake out your shoes before you put them on in the morning!" she said; and with this dark warning fled. Camp Judson had awakened, had had a fiercely contested water-fight, had breakfasted, tidied up, and most of its inmates scattered in quest of adventures, before the tired girls of _Poco Tiempo_ gathered for the morning meal. Kitty and Debby, enveloped in capacious gingham aprons, and appearing somewhat flushed and nervous, stood waiting to serve. Mrs. Clyde gave the two cooks an approving smile. "Everything looks charming," she said as she took her place at the head of the board. The table here was spread with white oilcloth, and the dishes of blue enamelled-ware showed bright and cheerful against the immaculate expanse. Bowls of steaming oatmeal porridge stood at each place, and huge mugs of cocoa. But it was at none of these that Blue Bonnet was gazing; her eyes were fastened in wonder on a pitcher of real milk and another of real cream. "Where did that come from?" she demanded. "The Spring!" declared Kitty. "Miguel rode to the Circle Y ranch and got it early this morning," Debby confessed, "and they're going to let us have it every morning." "It's a jarring note," Blue Bonnet declared. "All right, you can have all the 'condemned milk' you want," said Kitty, "--we've a dozen cans of it." But Blue Bonnet was already helping herself generously to the "jarring note" and seemed to enjoy it as much as any one. Every one was exceedingly polite and made no mention of lumps in the porridge; and finally the anxious puckers in Debby's forehead began to smooth themselves out. There was a moment of veritable triumph for the cooks when they came in with the nicely browned bacon and a plate heaped high with golden corn-bread. "Who was the artist?" the Senora asked in pleased surprise. "I didn't know you knew how," Sarah commented. There was a moment's hesitation, and then Blue Bonnet, who had caught a glimpse of Uncle Joe's face, pointed an accusing finger at him. "Fess up, Uncle Joe!" Much annoyed at himself, Uncle Joe tried to deny the accusation, but Kitty's face confirmed the suspicion against him, and in the end he "fessed up" rather lamely. "Have to do something to earn my board and keep," he protested. "Amanda and I get lunch, you know," Blue Bonnet suggested tactfully; and Amanda telegraphed her approval of this gentle hint. "Well, this camp is well-named," said Knight, appearing suddenly with a half-dozen boys in his train. "Is this breakfast or lunch?" "Breakfast, and a very good one," Mrs. Clyde remarked. "Won't you join us?"