The Outdoor Girls at Bluff Point | Page 5

are right, Betty dear, you always are!" cried Mollie,
taking heart and even smiling a little. "We can't do anybody good by
moping."
"No," added Grace with a philosophy unusual in her. "That's why we
have the hardest share, I guess--because we have to keep gay and bright,
no matter how we feel."
"And we still have our work at the Hostess House," Amy reminded
them. "Maybe," she added, a little wistfully, "if we work hard enough
we'll be able to forget--"
"What's all this about working and forgetting?" cried Mrs. Nelson,
coming gayly into the room. "I thought you had come home for a
vacation."
The girls explained, and Mrs. Nelson looked pityingly at their grave
young faces.
"So that is it," she was beginning, when Mollie sprang to her feet with a
cry. She was staring at the paper that Mrs. Nelson had carelessly
thrown on the table.
"What is it?" they cried, as she snatched it up and read the glaring
headlines.
"The Hostess House!" gasped Mollie. "Gone! Burnt up! Read this!"
Dazedly the girls obeyed, the big type seeming to strike them in the
face as they read:
"Great Fire at Camp Liberty! Hostess House and Several Barracks
Buildings Burned to the Ground!"

CHAPTER III
MAKING PLANS
"I can't seem to get used to it," sighed Mollie several days later, as she
ran up the steps of her porch and opened the screen door for the girls.
"To think that no matter how much we want to go back to the Hostess
House--"
"There is no Hostess House to go back to," finished Grace, sinking
down in a luxurious porch swing and plumping the cushion behind her
back. Grace always had a gift for finding the soft places. "It is rather
discouraging."
"Just as we were going to work hard and forget how unhappy we were,
too," added Amy plaintively.
"Goodness, but we're not going to be unhappy," put in Betty, rocking
vigorously. "I thought we decided that three days ago."
"I know. But when we think--"
"But we musn't think," Betty interrupted quickly, adding with a little
twinkle: "About being unhappy, that is. All we have to do is just hold
on to the belief that the boys are coming back a year from now, maybe
less--coming back without a hair less than they had when they went
away."
"We didn't count 'em," said Mollie drolly. "The hairs, that is, so how
can we tell?"
"Isn't she funny?" drawled Grace, catching the pillow Mollie threw at
her and depositing it calmly behind her back. "Thanks, old dear," she
said. "I just needed another one."
"I thought we came to talk over the plans for our vacation," Amy put in
mildly, adding with a little laugh: "We have to take one now whether
we want it or not."

"But we haven't the slightest idea what we're going to do," protested
Grace. "I guess we'd just better stay at home and do nothing."
"My, aren't you encouraging?" cried Mollie, looking up indignantly
from the pair of socks she was knitting. "You might at least suggest
something."
"Ooh, there you are!"
They turned suddenly to see a mischievous little face peeping at them
from around the corner of the porch.
"Dodo, you little wretch, come here," cried Mollie, trying to look
severe and failing utterly.
"Now what mischief have you been up to?"
"No," protested Dodo, shaking her curly head vigorously, as she
reluctantly abandoned her vantage point and came slowly toward
Mollie. "No mischief 'tall. Me an' Paul jus' playin'."
This was Dora, nicknamed Dodo, and Paul, Mollie Billette's small
brother and sister, who were nearly always getting into some sort of
mischief from the time they stepped their little feet out of bed in the
morning till the time they slipped the same little feet, tired out with
getting into trouble, into bed at night.
"You darling!" cried Betty, catching the little figure to her and
administering a bear's hug. "You're terribly bad, but we can't help
loving you."
"Uh-uh," denied Dodo, wriggling free of Betty's embrace and looking
at her earnestly. "Me's never bad--only Paul."
"Ooh, Dodo Billette!" cried Paul, bursting in upon them from no one
could quite tell where. "You's a big story teller!"
"You's the big 'tory teller," cried Dodo, coming sturdily to the rescue of
her reputation. "You just go 'way. Mol--lie, oh, Mollie, make him go

'way!"
"Oh, dear!" cried Mollie, half amused and half vexed as she put aside
her knitting and took Dodo on her lap. "I thought you and Paul
promised to play with the bunnies all the afternoon and not bother sister.
Can't you see she has company?"
"Yes," smiled the little girl, reaching up to pat Mollie's cheek
ingratiatingly. "Me an' Paul got tired playin' wiv bunnies an'