"I can only answer for myself," declared Wyn, laughing. "They were all asleep when I came away. But I guess if we have nothing worse to trouble us than that shower we shall get along all right." "You're a plucky girl--for a city one," said the woman. "Now, do you want milk and eggs?" Wyn told her what she wanted, and paid for the things. Then she started back to camp, laden with the brimming milk pail and a basket which the farmer's wife had let her have. The sun was now mounting swiftly in his course across the sky. Faintly she heard the sawmill at the Forge blowing a whistle to call the hands, and knew that it was six o'clock. She hurried her steps and reached the opening where the tent was pitched just as the first sleepy Go-Ahead was creeping out to see what manner of day it might be. "For goodness' sake, Wyn Mallory!" cried this yawning nymph in blue pajamas. "Have you been up all night?" "Aren't you cute in those things, Percy?" returned Wyn. "You look just like a doll in a store window. Come on and dress. It's time you were all up. Why! the day will be gone before you know it." "Oh--ow--ouch!" yawned Percy, and then jumped quickly through the opening of the tent because Grace Hedges pushed her. "Why! the sun's up!" cried the big girl. "Why! and there's Wyn with milk--and eggs--and pretty red radishes--and _peas_. Mercy me! Look at all the things in this basket. Whose garden have you been robbing, Wyn?" "Come on!" commanded the captain of the Go-Ahead Club. "I brought a bag of meal in _my_ canoe. And there is salt, and aluminum bowls, and spoons. We can make a good breakfast of eggs and mush. Hurry up, all you lazy folk, and help get breakfast." "O-o-o! isn't the grass cold!" exclaimed one girl who had just stepped out from between woolen blankets. "I--I feel as though I were dressing outdoors," gasped another, with chattering teeth. "D-don't you suppose anybody can see through this tent?" "Nonsense, goosey!" ejaculated Frank. "Hurry up and get into your clothes. You take up more room than an elephant." "Did you ever share a dressing room with an elephant, Frank?" demanded Bess. "Not before," returned the thin girl, grimly. "But I am preparing for that experience when I try to dress in the same tent with Gracie." But they were all eager to get outside when they sniffed the smoke of the campfire, and, a little later, the odor of eggs "frying in the pan." Despite the saturated condition of most of the underbrush Wyn knew where to get dry wood for fuel, Dave had long ago taught her that bit of woodcraft. With a small camp hatchet she had attacked the under branches of the spruce and low pine trees, and soon had a good heap of these dead sticks near the tent. She turned over a flat stone that lay near by for a hearth. Before the other girls and Mrs. Havel were dressed and had washed their faces at the lakeside, Captain Wyn was stirring mush in a kettle and frying eggs in pork fat in a big aluminum pan.