Marshmallow got up from the porch and lazily stretched himself. “I think I will,” he returned. “I can smell cookies baking in the kitchen, and I’ll just ankle around and coerce Mother into parting with a few dozen.” After Marshmallow had gone inside, Doris continued to study the map for several minutes and then tossed it aside as she caught sight of her uncle coming up the walk. Eagerly, she ran to meet him. “What have you in those packages?” she demanded. “Oh, something nice for you.” As he smiled indulgently down upon her, Doris could not but think how very fortunate she was to have such a generous and handsome uncle. Though Wardell Force was of middle age, with hair fast turning gray, he walked with the step of a boy and his energy was equal to that of any dozen average men. His voice was low pitched, but of singular quality which made one instinctively turn to listen when he spoke. For many years he had conducted a successful drug store, but had retired from active business to follow his hobby of rescue mission work, welfare and charities. He was naturally a leader of men and in great demand to head committees and speak at important gatherings. Doris was proud of his ability to move large crowds with his magnetic voice. However, she sometimes felt that he was so engrossed in helping others that he neglected himself. Frequently, she had known him to go without a new suit of clothes that he might give the money to some deserving poor family. “Uncle Ward, you’re always buying things for me,” she told him as she accepted the packages. “I don’t know why you’re so good to me.” They sat down in the porch swing and Doris eagerly began to unwrap the parcels. “Candy!” she exclaimed in delight. “And novelty jewelry, too. I can’t thank you enough!” “Like the beads?” Uncle Ward asked. “I’m not much of a hand at picking out trinkets for the ladies. Thought they might be a little too conservative for a giddy red-head like you.” “Pooh!” Doris scoffed. “I’m not giddy and you’re not conservative.” Her uncle laughed and rumpled her curls. “Dory,” he began, the smile fading, “I’m afraid I shall have to leave you alone for a few days each week.” “Why?” “I’ve been named chairman of a committee to raise funds for fresh air camps and the campaign will be carried on all summer. That means I must go out of town frequently. We shall have to plan something nice for you to do during my absence.” “Kitty Norris wants me to go camping with her. May I?” A shadow passed over Wardell Force’s face. “I have been intending to talk to you about the state of your finances for some time,” he said slowly, without answering her question. Thoughtfully he stroked his hair, avoiding his niece’s eyes. How he hated to inform her that her funds were running low and that a camping trip was therefore inadvisable! Somehow, girls seemed to need a great deal of money.