“Do let your hair down in those two long braids, Natalie, and be Pocahontas,” urged Mabel. “It is so becoming to you.” “But it’s so hard to arrange afterward,” laughed breath-of-the-pine-tree. “Oh, it hardly seems possible that we really can go off to the woods!” sighed Marie. “And camp—just as the boys do—in a tent and not in a stupid hotel, or boarding house,” added Alice. “And do our own cooking,” came from Mabel. “I do hope the oil stove won’t explode—or do whatever oil stoves ought not to do.” “Don’t suggest it!” cried Natalie. “We don’t want to think of the unpleasant features. Think of the birds, and the green trees, and the land of the sky-blue water and——” “Natalie doesn’t like to think of unpleasant things,” mocked Marie. “Why should one, when there is so much that is beautiful and pleasant in the world?” demanded the olive-tinted one. “Spoken like a true Camp Fire Girl!” exclaimed Alice. “Say, I do believe my middy-blouse is too small for me,” and she tried to get a view of her back in the glass, by twisting her neck around much after the manner of an ostrich. “And they’re sure to shrink when they’re washed,” declared Marie. “Don’t speak of it,” begged Marie. “Mine is tight under the arms, too.” “Then let’s not wash them!” suggested Natalie with a brilliant thought. “There won’t be much chance in camp, anyhow.” The four girls were at Marie’s house, where they seemed to assemble more often than any other place. The semi-Indian suits, consisting of khaki skirts and middy-blouses of the same material had just been received from the headquarters of the Camp Fire Girls, and our friends were trying them on with varying degrees of satisfaction. Truly the costumes, simple and serviceable as they were, seemed becoming in the extreme. “We won’t be afraid of climbing over rocks, stumps and tree trunks with these boots,” went on Marie, as she inspected the shoes that had come with the outfits. “And we can sit down on the grass without a qualm,” added Mabel. “Oh, I wish we could always dress like this.” “Even at a dance?” asked Natalie. “Well, maybe not at a dance,” conceded Mabel, thinking of a “perfect dream” of a dress she had. “Isn’t it too bad Cora and Gertrude can’t go with us?” spoke Marie, as she daintily powdered her nose. “Yes, and Margaret, Sadie and Edna were wild to be with us when they heard about it, but they could not manage,” went on Alice referring to other members of the Camp Fire organization. It was about two weeks after the loss of Mrs. Anderson’s ring. In the meanwhile, though a careful search had been made, no trace of it, nor of the Gypsy band had been found. The tribe seemed to have disappeared, which was not strange, as that region consisted of many little-explored patches of woodland, in which many bands might have hidden. The police of several towns could not trace the nomads.