Peanut ran on ahead before they got to the camp site, and slipping as quietly as he could through the trees and bushes, came suddenly out into the open space where the fire was. The girls were all sitting in the shade, except Alice. She was wading barefoot in the brook, while her stockings and shoes hung by the fire. Peanut stood there grinning a second before anybody saw him, and then Alice spied him and squealed. “Oh, you little beast!” she said, jumping out of the water, and grabbing up a tin folding cup, which her father had evidently carried in his pocket. She filled this with water, and ran at Peanut, barefoot, appearing not to mind the rough ground at all. Peanut was so loaded down with his blanket and pack and two lunch baskets that he was in no condition to escape. He tried to run, but his blanket roll caught in a bush, and before he could yank it free he felt the whole cupful of water hit his face, and go running down his neck. “Alice!” called Mrs. Green. “_Alice!_ Come right back here! Aren’t you ashamed!” “Not a bit,” said Alice. “He’s perfectly horrid, coming sneaking up that way on purpose!” “Go put on your shoes and stockings and then apologize!” said her mother, sternly. “Ho, that’s all right,” said Peanut. “I was awful hot. The water feels good. I’d like some more.” “You would, would you?” said Alice, making as if she were going to the stream again. “Only give me time to get my mouth open and catch it,” Peanut laughed. “Alice!” said her mother, again, “I told you to put your shoes and stockings on.” “They’re not dry yet,” said the girl, feeling of them. “Oh, dear, what can you do? The rest will be here in a moment!” exclaimed her sister, the girl in pink. “I have it!” Peanut said. He slung off his pack, and produced his pair of extra socks. They were heavy and long, being made to wear with high boots. Alice snatched them from him with a laugh, and, turning her back, sat down to put them on. Then she got up and turned around. Everybody laughed. The toes were too long, and flapped a bit when she walked. Her feet looked huge, for a girl. “I hope I wear a big hole in ’em,” she was saying, as the rest of the Scouts came up. But she wasn’t half so mad at Peanut as she had pretended, evidently, for while Art and Lou were taking all the responsibility of cooking the lunch and making the coffee, the two of them walked off together up the stream to the falls, Alice giving little “Ouches!” every minute or two as her shoeless feet stepped on a root or a hard pebble, and they had to be called back by the rest when lunch was ready. It was certainly a merry meal. The girls made birch bark plates, and they had paper napkins in their baskets, and plenty of doughnuts to go with the coffee. Art used the last of the flour and condensed milk for flapjacks, cooking busily while the rest ate, and looking very happy when the girl in pink said, “It’s too bad. _You_ aren’t getting anything at all.”