And thus the merry quips and gibes went on until tea was served, the boys stoically remaining, and, perforce requiring to be fed, though Marie remarked to Jack sotto-voice that she thought he had had one lunch since school. “I am always open for more,” he replied. “And so you girls are really going to be members of the Camp Fire club,” spoke Phil, when the rattle of teacups had ceased. “Of Dogwood Camp,” added Natalie, daintily removing a bit of butter from the tip of her finger encircled by the new silver ring. “Well, it may all be very nice and romantic, and that sort of thing,” began Jack, “but——” “It isn’t romantic at all,” interrupted Alice. “It’s practical—at least I think that’s the proper word,” and she looked rather doubtfully at Natalie. “Oh, say, we’re forgetting all about our Indian names,” exclaimed Marie. “I wonder what signified bluebird?” “Wash-ton-su-goo!” gurgled her brother. “Jack!” she cried. “If you don’t stop I’ll never let you stay in when we have tea again. You’re too——” “All right, sis!” he laughed. “I’ll be good. Only it’s such a joke.” “We’re really in earnest,” explained Natalie. “You should see our rules, and learn how we can acquire merit——” “Like the Hindoo Yogis,” declared Phil. “Natalie, the dreamer, talking of acquiring merit. Say, if you girls get to have any more merit you’ll be too good for this earth.” “Be quiet!” begged Mabel. “Blake, did you say you had an Indian book at home?” “I have. Shall I get it?” “Listen, girls!” called Mabel. “Why can’t you all come over to my house this evening, and we’ll select our names. Blake only lives around the corner. He can leave the book, and——” “Leave it!” exclaimed Blake, with peculiar emphasis. “Perhaps I had better _mail_ it, or send it parcels post, or call a messenger from the telegraph office. Only there’s none there after supper. However——” “Oh, I suppose you can bring it—and _stay_—if you want to,” conceded Mabel. “Not a pressing invitation, but—shall we take it, fellows?” and Blake looked quizzically at his chums. “We can tell them how to make a camp fire, anyhow,” declared Jack. “Thank you, we’re going to learn by practical experience, Jack,” spoke his sister. “Then all come to my house this evening,” went on Mabel. “And, Blake, please bring the Indian book. Phil can entertain you and Jack while we look up some names.” “And who will entertain you?” inquired Jack. “Thank you—we don’t need it,” spoke Natalie. “Well, I’m willing to wager my new hat against a hair ribbon,” declared Phil, “that with all you girls talking about wood-gathering and camp fires, not one of your crowd would dare go camping and build a real camp fire—I mean a party of you. It’s all very well to talk about being like the boy scouts, but when it comes down to the real thing, you’ll be so afraid of an ant crawling on a stick of wood that you’ll want an oil stove to cook on. Camp fire girls may be——”