ing. Tavia wanted buns, cheese
and pickles. Nat had cheese, rye bread and butter (he bought a quarter
of a pound) and besides he found, on the very tip top shelf, some glass
jars of boneless herring.

"Let's make a regular camp dinner," suggested Ned. "Buy some potatoes
and sliced bacon, make tea or coffee--"

"In what?" asked Dorothy.

"Oh, yes, that's so. We did not bring the lunch basket. By the way,
you have not seen the basket mother received for her birthday. It has
everything for a lunch on the road; a lamp to cook over, tea and coffee
pot, enameled cups, plates, good sharp knives--the neatest things, all
in a small basket. Mother never lets us take it out, when we're alone.
She thinks so much of it."

"I should think she would," remarked Dorothy. "But we were speaking of
a camp lunch--"

"Yes, let's," joined in Nat. "It's no end of fun, roasting potatoes in
a stone furnace."

"And toasting bacon on hat pins," suggested Tavia.

So it was agreed the camp lunch should be their meal, Dorothy and Ned
doing most of the work of buying and finding things fresh enough to eat
in the old-fashioned dusty store, while Tavia and Nat tasted pickles
and tried buns, until Dorothy interposed, declaring if either ate
another mouthful before the real meal was ready they would not be
allowed a single warm morsel.

"Just one potato," pleaded Nat. "I do so love burnt potatoes."

"And a single slice of bacon," urged Tavia. "I haven't had that kind
of bacon since we were out at the Cedars, and I think it is so
delicious."

"Then save your appetites," insisted Dorothy, "and help with the work.
No looking for fresh spring water this time. Nat, carry this bottle of
milk. Ned has paid for the bottle and all, so we will not have to come
back with the jar."

The paper bundles were finally put into the car, and then, turning back
to the woodland road, it was not difficult to find a place suitable to
build the camp-fire, and set table on a big stump of a newly-felled
tree that Tavia said made her more hungry than ever, for the chips
smelt like vinegar and molasses, she declared.

So pleasant was the camp life our friends had embarked upon, they did
not notice how far the afternoon was getting away from them, and before
they had any inclination to start out on the road again, the sun had
rolled itself up into a big red ball, and was sinking down behind the
hills.

"Oh, it may be dark before we get back to Dalton,"