was time to call her companions. By the time they
came out she had breakfast ready for them. Washington, who slept in a
little pup-tent, had to be dragged out by the feet by Hippy before he
was sufficiently awake to function.

"Laundry," said Hippy solemnly, "I hope you never get caught in a
burning house in the night. If you are, the house and yourself will be a
heap of ashes in the cellar by the time you get awake."

"Listen to him, will you, Nora Wingate," cackled Emma Dean hoarsely, for
the chill of the mountain morning had gotten into her throat.

"For your information, Miss Dean, I will say that the only time my Nora
ever listens to her husband is when he talks in his sleep." A pained
expression appeared on Hippy's face when he said it.

"Go on wid ye," laughed Nora. "Ye know ye can't talk in your sleep
because your snores don't give ye a chance."

Grace put an end to the argument by announcing that breakfast was
served. The girls regarded Grace inquiringly when she informed them that
their late guest, the Mystery Man, had again vanished with his usual
mysteriousness.

"He hath folded his tent and stolen away," observed Emma Dean
dramatically.

"He didn't fold his tent, for he hadn't any tent to fold," differed
Hippy. "He folded his blankets and hiked for the tall timber. How far do
we ride to-day, Grace?"

"To Spring Brook. Wash, how far from here is the next camping place?"
questioned Grace, turning to the colored boy.

"Wall, Ah reckons it's 'bout er whoop an' er holler from heyeh."

"So far as that?" chuckled Hippy Wingate.

"It's terrible! I know I never shall be able to stand it to ride so
far," declared Emma, tilting her nose up, her head inclined over her
right shoulder, a characteristic pose for her when she thought she was
saying something smart. As usual, her remark brought a laugh.

"Emma Dean, your nose is the last word in neat impertinence," declared
Elfreda Briggs. "Were you a man, some one surely would flatten it for
you. Forgive me, dear. That was rude of me," apologized J. Elfreda.

"Never mind the apology. I am used to being abused by my companions,"
retorted Emma, her face a little redder than usual.

Grace laughingly interrupted the badinage by directing Washington to
begin packing. She said they must make an early start, not knowing how
far it was to their day's destination, but which, she believed, from a
perusal of her map, was all of twenty-five miles.

"The trails are n