ntainside, and in the late emergency had set down.

It contained cocoa, sandwiches, fruit and other toothsome dainties for a
picnic supper.

"We have permission to make a fire, a Pin-na-cle blaze, to--to boil
water and toast our marshmallows. Oh! of all things, all-ll things on
this planet--I don't know what we may find on any other--that's
'banner', it's a marshmallows toast out-of-doors--isn't it?" chanted
Una, intoning her delight to the trees, the low spruce and pine scrub,
as she skipped among them, an evergreen sprite, herself, for she, too,
now wore the "bonnie green", the Camp Fire short skirt, middy blouse and
captivating Tam-o'-shanter--most nymph-like note in dress for daughters
of the woodland.

"And--and I just know the dear-est, loveliest pin-ey nook," she went on
in a choir-boy sing-song; "half-way down the Pinnacle's softer side it
is, where we may build our fire. Halleluiah! I suppose I'll have to get
busy and gather fagots, as in Camp Fire rank I'm a Wood Gatherer. Oh,
dear! Will you listen to old Andrew. Now what is _he_ singing?"

The Scot, indeed, relaxing from prim silence and chauffeur ceremony here
upon the Pinnacle's height, with only two young girls to marshal instead
of the mechanism of lever and brake--although the former, as he had
found to his cost might prove the worse handful of the two--was
alternately whistling, with lips drily pursed, and crooning in the
burr-like accents which adhered like a thistle to his tongue, his
version of a very old song:

"Young lassie! Daft lassie,
I tell ye the noo,
I'm keepin' some fagots,
An' a stick, too, for you!

"Singing whack fol de ri do!
De ri do!

"A lassie, a dog,
And an auld rowan tree,
The mair that you thwacks 'em,
The better they be!"

"'Thwacks 'em!' Pshaw! he's flinging that in my direction--having a
fling at me--for sitting in the Devil's Chair," laughed Pem, but the
laughter was bitter, two-edged. "Oh! Una," she burst forth shakily, "as
long--as long's ever I live, I'll wish I hadn't done it,
letting--letting that Jack at a Pinch, as he called himself, that big,
boorish boy, play friend in need to me-e again. Ugh-h!"

Her stung lips quivered and were twisted, partly upon the after-taste of
terror.

"Humph! forget it--oh-h! forget it," caroled the younger girl. "See that
you don't make a trouble out of it, for trouble is a hor-rid
kettle-o'-fish for the troublers--see!... Bu