Kent sat up. The others sang on and Lydia said, "I thought you didn't want me to flirt." "I don't, but with me it's different!" replied Kent. Lydia jumped to her feet. "You make me sick, Kent Moulton!" she snapped. "All men make me sick. I'm going to bed." And she stalked off in her hunting boots, without a good night to any one. Kent looked after her with an expression half sheepish, half admiring. "What's the matter with Lyd?" asked Olga. "Doesn't care about the spooning bee," replied Kent. "Proper is Lydia's middle name," commented Gustus. "Lydia is absolutely O. K.," said Charlie. "Bet your life," agreed Kent. "Get your big head over, Gustus, and give me a piece of Margery's knee." "Darn it," said Charlie, "Lydia's left the tent flap up. We might as well go to bed." Which, after another song or two, they did. CHAPTER XI LYDIA GIGGLES "Nature is neither cruel nor sad. She is only purposeful, tending to an end we cannot see."--_The Murmuring Pine_. The days flew lightly by, lightly for Lydia, too, in spite of the heavy secret she carried of Levine's plotting. Lightly, in spite of the fact that Lydia was undergoing some soul-changing experiences in this short holiday, experiences that were to direct her life's course. The day before they broke camp, Lydia's old squaw appeared and asked for Charlie Jackson. Charlie and Kent were cooking dinner. "Dear me," said Miss Towne, "tell him to take the poor thing away, Lydia." "He must feed her, first," exclaimed Lydia, leading the old Indian over to the cooking shelter. Kent and Lydia exchanged glances as Charlie led the squaw--Susie, he called her--into the woods, after Lydia had heaped her old arms with food. Kent and Gustus had put the dinner on the table and they all were seated at the meal when Charlie returned. "What did she want, Charlie?" asked Olga. "You wouldn't care if I told you," replied Charlie, grimly. "But," he burst forth suddenly, "some day you whites will pay. Some day the Japs or the Jews will do to you Americans what you've done to us." "Who cares!" cried Olga, pertly. "Have a pickle, Charlie, and cheer up." She pushed the pickle dish toward him. "Or some catsup," suggested Gustus, depositing the bottle by Charlie's plate. "Or a sardine," added Margery. Charlie's lips twitched and he smiled and Miss Towne sighed in a relieved way. The meal progressed without a further crisis. After the dishes were done, Kent followed Lydia, who was strolling off for a last walk in the woods. "Do you suppose she told Charlie about Levine?" he asked, as he overtook her. "Look out, Charlie's coming," said Lydia and in a moment the Indian had joined them.