"How do I know? Come over and find out for yourself!" snapped her sister.
The girls laughed at the retort, but Betty added: "I only wanted to know if it was safe for me to come over and help you out."
Julie straightened up and glared at her soft-hearted sister. "You sound just like our Sunday school teacher when she reads: 'Come over into Macedonia and help.'"
Again the audience of girls laughed appreciatively, but Julie was too busy keeping her feet "treading water" to pay any attention to their enjoyment. Meantime, Jim had removed some rails from the fence and was bringing them to the scout's aid.
"Now, Miss Julie, when I shove these over, you manage to work an arm over each one, and sort of lift yourself out that way. I'll shove others over for you to step on next, and in that way you can get out and across to us," advised Jim, working as he spoke.
Finally Julie was rescued from the mire, and then the Captain said: "Every one walk along that elevated bank, over there, to reach the grove, as this entire area may be a boggy spring."
But the grass under the trees in the grove was found to be hard and dry, and they soon began to prepare luncheon. While Mrs. Vernon unpacked the hamper, the scouts were detailed on various duties: some to build a fire, some to hunt spring water, some to set table on the grass. But Julie was excused from all these tasks, as she had more than enough work to do in cleaning the mud from her boots and stockings.
When luncheon was almost ready, Judith and Amy, who had been sent to find the spring and bring back drinking water, reported: "We couldn't find any spring."
Julie looked up and jeered: "You are fine scouts! Couldn't find a spring when all you have to do is to find the source of all that water where I went down!"
"Water! That looked like mud," retorted Judith.
"We'll go for the water," volunteered Joan, catching hold of Betty's sleeve to take her along.
So they started, and as Julie had said, the spring that fed the boggy spot was not far back in the grove. The water gurgled down from a cleft in a huge rock, and on either side of the small pool wood violets dipped their fragrant petals into the sparkling mirror.
Betty sat down upon a flat rock beside the pool to enjoy the scene. But practical Joan filled the pail with cold water and then laughed at poetical Betty.
"Would you prefer to sit here and dream, Betty – or go back with me and eat ham sandwiches?"
"Oh, I forgot where I was," laughed Betty, rising reluctantly to help carry the pail of water.
"That's what I thought," tittered Joan, "but the rest of the girls prefer something more solid than dreams."
During the luncheon the Captain said: "Wouldn't it be splendid if each one of us kept a diary of what happens during this summer's camp? Then we can rewrite the facts when we go home and make a good story of it. Perhaps a real publisher will buy it from us and thus give us a fund for next year's outing – if we have one."
"Oh, that is great!" exclaimed several voices with girlish enthusiasm.
"Well then, when we camp to-night, we'll jot down the episodes of the day's trip – not forgetting to dwell at length on 'Samson,' and Julie's side-plays," remarked the Captain, smilingly.
"Has any one thought of a stopping place for the night?" asked Jim.
"Not definitely, Jim; but I hope to cross the river at Poughkeepsie and drive along the west shore as far as possible. Then we can pitch camp at any good place we find," replied the Captain.
They had not gone much farther before Ruth called: "It looks as if the rear tire on Verny's car was flat!"
The Captain slowed up, and every one tried to see the tire. "That's what it is, all right, Captain!" ejaculated Jim, impatiently.
"Dear me! That means another delay!" sighed several girls.
The car had to be jacked up and Jim went to work to mend the puncture in the tube, then pumped and pumped until the tire was properly inflated once more.
As the tourists climbed into their respective seats in the automobiles, Joan said: "Well, Captain, this wasn't such a bad day after all – in spite of being a Friday."
"I'm thankful for it, too," sighed Betty, fervently.
The cars made good time after that and passed over the ferry at Poughkeepsie, to travel northward on the road that ran along the west shore. They pitched camp in some woods and soon had a fire started to heat the canned soup they had brought. When all else was ready, the Captain banged upon a tin pan to call the scouts to dine.
"Um! That tomato soup smells good!" exclaimed Joan, sniffing audibly, as she saw the contents of the pan that stood over the fire.
"Will you serve it, Jo – you are nearest the pan?" said Mrs. Vernon, passing the basket that held the tin cups.
"Here! Everybody hold up a mug to fill, while I come around with the pan!" ordered Joan, taking hold of the pan-handle that had been over the fire a long time.
"Oo-oouch!" cried the girl, whipping her hand up and down as she danced wildly about.
"You didn't spill the soup, I hope!" exclaimed Anne, with deep concern.
"What difference would that make – a little cheap soup? But my hand – oh, it's got a trail blazed clean across the palm!" wailed Joan, showing her red-skinned hand to sympathizing friends.
"Poor old scout! We have to learn all kinds of blazing, I suppose," murmured Julie.
"And the soup is all safe – Jo never dropped the pan!" declared Anne, with gratification in her tones.
"Here, Miss Jo," said Jim, who had gone for a bottle kept in the kit. "Pour this olive oil all over the hand and the smart will soon stop."
He hurried to give the bottle to Joan but his toe caught in a bramble and tripped him. The bottle flew from his hand and struck the root where Joan sat. The glass shattered and the oil ran out the grass at the scout's feet.
"Well, well! it must be the Friday Jinx that still pursues us," remarked Jim, gazing regretfully at the glistening oil that formed beads on the blades of grass.
The girls laughed merrily, but Mrs. Vernon seemed serious. She was about to speak, when Amy asked Joan to pass the crackers. She picked up the box that was nearest her, and turned to hand them to her next neighbor, when her foot slipped on the oily grass and she sat down suddenly upon the stump. The box fell in Hester's lap, but Joan clapped a hand over her mouth and smothered a howl.
"Goodness me! What's the matter now, Jo!" cried Ruth, seeing the girl's convulsed face.
Joan shook her head helplessly, but her eyes were filled with tears. Every one wondered what could have happened, and when the scout could speak she said thickly: "Oh, that oil! I slipped and bit the end of my tongue clear off – I'm sure of it!"
"Stick it out and let's see," demanded Ruth.
"That's what comes of having too much of a good thing!" declared Julie, teasingly.
Every one but the Captain laughed, and she said seriously: "Do you know, girls, that I've had an idea about all this talk over Friday being a 'bad luck' day. Of course it is perfectly absurd to intelligent people, but there are enough superstitious folk left in the world who actually think Friday has some power to bring ill luck with it.
"Now I believe that it is the fear and general belief in the superstition that carries any weight with it. If we, as good intelligent scouts, will try to break this silly fear for others, we shall have to begin with ourselves, by not referring to the superstition with the sense of its having any power to act."
The girls listened seriously, as they always did when their Captain started one of her "sermonettes" as Julie called them; and when she had concluded, Joan said: "In other words, you want us to starve the poor wraith still more by withdrawing any thoughts from the matter whatever?"
"Exactly! You've worded it better than I could have done myself," responded the Captain, emphatically.
When