Dorothy Dales Camping Days | Page 6

he emerged, seemingly, from
nowhere, for she started on a run, laughing uproariously at the herd of
sheep that trotted as she increased her pace, turned as she turned, and,
in fact, seemed to be at a regular game of "follow the leader."
The young man stood carefully posed in the path, just where a huge
stone afforded him a setting for his rather dusty boots.
"What a chap!" commented Edna. "Seems to me he has enough strikes
and poses to make a good cigar box picture."
"Any particular brand?" asked Dorothy. "I might label it 'Spectacular,'
with all rights reserved."
"Look at Tavia," begged Cologne with a smile. "The rights are
'reserved' in her particular direction."
"She's welcome," finished Dorothy, just as Tavia reached the spot
where the other girls were now waiting, and where the young man
stood like a statue.
"Another situation?" remarked the man, doffing his hat in the most
gorgeous bow.
"Yes, the climax," answered Tavia. "What do you think of the
scenery?"
"Mercy!" breathed Edna aside. "If they start that sort of talk we may as
well camp out to-night."
But the young man did not express his opinion publicly. Instead, he
stepped up to Tavia, and presently the two were conversing in subdued
voices.
Dorothy did not like that. She, in fact, did not fancy this young man's

"apparition" habit, and she now determined to force Tavia to a sense of
her own obligations to reach Glenwood School without further delay.
"Girls," called Dorothy, "we really must hurry! Thank you, very much"
(this to the strange man), "for your kindness this afternoon, but you see
now, we have to get back to school. We would not have been out so
long but for the fact that this is privilege day--school closes Thursday."
"Then why not make use of the privilege?" the young man asked, with
a sly look at Tavia. "We don't meet--professional friends every
afternoon."
The thought that Tavia might have met this man while engaged in her
brief and notable stage career, as related in "Dorothy Dale's Great
Secret," flashed across Dorothy's mind. With it came a thought of
danger--Tavia was scarcely yet cured of her dramatic fever.
The sheep stood around in the most serio-comic style, and the seminary
girls were scarcely less comic.
"Oh!" screamed Nita, suddenly, "there comes that awful farmer! And
he has a whip!"
"Can't ride off on a sheep this time," remarked Tavia with ill-chosen
levity. "Let's run!"
"Yes, let's!" chimed in Dorothy with a knowing look at Cologne.
At this the girls started off; and they did run!
When they reached the foot of the steep hill, Dorothy stopped to look
back.
There, on the summit, stood the unmistakable form of the young man.
Beside him posed the equally unmistakable form of the farmer and his
whip.
And the sheep were flocked around them!

CHAPTER III
THE DISASTROUS DRAG
"It was perfectly delicious!"
"I'm glad you think so, Tavia. No, I am not, either; I am very sorry."
Dorothy put aside her notes, and sighed the last sigh for one night--that
sort of content signal with which young girls usually put the final
period to labor.
"Oh, Dorothy!" and Tavia flung herself down directly upon her friend's
nicely pressed robe. "You always want to put the damper on. What's
the use of being girls if we can't be----"
"Idiots!" added Dorothy, and she wondered why she so strongly
opposed Tavia. "I'll tell you, Tavia, this business of chatting with
strange young men is nothing less than foolish. I can't see where it
becomes funny."
"It begins," said Tavia, balancing her pencil on her third finger, "at the
point where Dorothy Dale turns preacher. A poor sermon is
absolutely--funny."
"Thank you," returned Dorothy, without recovering her good nature,
"but you must remember, Tavia, that we are leaving Glenwood in two
days."
"I may leave to-night if you keep on," declared Tavia. "Dorothy, I
never knew you to be so obstinate."
"Nor have I ever known you to be so foolish. Tavia, that young man
is--queer. He is mysterious, and I have a feeling that he means harm."
"Pure jealousy, Doro," and Tavia jumped up and flung herself almost
upon the girl who sat in the shade of the study lamp. "I am so sorry he
did not take the notion to you."

Dorothy was accustomed to these outbreaks, and they merely meant a
gesture, or whatever fling came with the speech; the words indicated
absolutely nothing. She gave Tavia an answering smile. "Well, dear, we
won't quarrel, at least this time. But see that it doesn't happen again."
"When shall we go home? Dear me! It does seem a long time between
holidays," and Tavia tumbled down in the most nondescript heap.
"I shall be glad to see