Dorothy Dales Camping Days | Page 3

the fate that seemed imminent
for the girls left in the wagon--the girls of Glenwood School--her
dearest chums. Those of my readers who are familiar with the previous
volumes of this series, will, perhaps, pardon the rather unceremonious
manner in which I have just introduced the young ladies of this book.
To those who are reading of Dorothy Dale for the first time, a few
words of explanation may be necessary. And, in presenting the young
ladies of Glenwood School, I must at once apologize for, and criticise
Tavia Travers.
From the very first book of the series entitled "Dorothy Dale, a Girl of
To-day," we find Dorothy striving bravely to induce Tavia to give up
her stagey ways. Every predicament in the story was a "scene" to Tavia,
while but for Dorothy's intervention, and gentle determination, these
scenes would have been turned into tragedies for the wily Tavia. Then,
in the second book, "Dorothy Dale at Glenwood School," Tavia and the
young ladies of that institution got into many a "scrape" and, while
Dorothy was one of the girls, in the true sense of the word, she
managed to discriminate between fun and folly.
But what sacrifices Dorothy was actually capable of making for a
friend were more clearly related in "Dorothy Dale's Great Secret,"
where she shielded Tavia from the consequences of her daring and
foolish venture, of running away with a theatrical company. Through
two more books of the series, "Dorothy Dale and Her Chums," and
"Dorothy Dale's Queer Holidays," we find Dorothy still busy trying to
reform Tavia, and while in each of the books there is plenty of other
work for Dorothy to attend to, it seems that Tavia is her one perpetual
charge. What Tavia thinks fun is not always of the safe sort, and what
Dorothy thinks necessary Tavia often thinks may be passed by as some
subtle joke. So it will be seen that each of these two interesting
characters always has her own particular following, while the
friendship between Tavia and Dorothy has withstood every possible
test.
So we find the same young ladies in the present story, still indulging in
their favorite pastime--getting into and out of mischief.

They had been out riding on an improvised chariot--a hayrick of the
old-fashioned kind, like a cradle, filled with the fragrant timothy and
redtop, when the accident, narrated in the first chapter, took place.
As Tavia and Dorothy ran after the wagon containing their friends,
while the vehicle swayed from side to side in the road, they saw it give
a sudden lurch, and almost topple over on the steep embankment which
descended to the river.
Dorothy gave a gasp of fear, and Tavia covered her eyes with her hand.
The next moment Dorothy saw the driver of the wagon crawling out
from a clump of bushes. Guessing that he was not badly hurt, she ran
on, for she had halted momentarily when she saw the vehicle sway so
dangerously. Together she and Tavia sprang forward, to reach, if
possible, before it toppled over, the swaying, bounding wagon.
Whether from an unconquerable spirit of fun, or from motives purely
humane, Tavia had snatched up armful after armful of the loose hay,
which had been spilled out on the road. In doing this she never halted
in her running, but stooped over, like some gleaner in a field, urged on
by the approach of night.
"Oh!" cried Dorothy. "If we can only reach them before----"
A figure darted out on the road just ahead of them, and the unexpected
move interrupted Dorothy's exclamation.
"Oh, a man!" shouted Tavia, who was somewhat in advance. "Now
we--will be--all right!"
Yes, a man had started down the hill after the runaway, but just how or
why Tavia was sure that this would make things right, was not clear to
Dorothy.
"He can run!" she called, "Can't he, Tavia?"
"Can't he!" replied Tavia. "But I'm not going to let him have all the
glory. Here," and she tossed a bundle of hay to Dorothy. "Take it along

for the--hospital beds. I'm going--to--run!"
"Going--to!" repeated Dorothy, all out of breath from her own efforts to
catch up to the runaway.
But Tavia darted on. The strange man kept well ahead. Dorothy paused
one moment from sheer exhaustion. Then she saw the wagon overturn!
The next instant she noted that the stranger had grabbed the horse by
the trailing reins.
"Quick!" shrieked Tavia. "The girls may be under the cart!"
With strength gathered from every desperation Dorothy ran on.
She was beside the overturned wagon now, and without uttering a word
she crawled in through the upright sticks, down amid the dust and hay.
Three girls, so wound together as to look like one, lay on one side of
the wrecked