The Outdoor Girls of Deepdale | Page 2

face of peculiar, winsome beauty had gained her the not overdrawn characterization of "Gibson girl." "I don't see why Billy wants to always be saying such horrid things about me!"
"I didn't say anything mean!" snapped Mollie, whose pseudonym was more often "Billy" than anything else. "And I don't want you to say that I do!" Her eyes flashed, and gave a hint of the hidden fire of temper which was not always controlled. The other girls looked at her a bit apprehensively.
"If you don't like the things I say," she went on, "there are those who do. And what's more--"
"Billy," spoke Betty, softly. "I'm sure Grace didn't mean--"
"Oh, I know it!" exclaimed Mollie, contritely. "It was horrid of me to flare up that way. But sometimes I can't seem to help it. I beg your pardon, Grace. Eat as many chocolates as you like. I'll help you. Isn't that generous?"
She clasped her arms about the "Gibson-girl," and held her cheek close to the other's blushing one.
"Don't mind me!" she cried, impulsively. Mollie was often this way--in a little whirlwind of temper one moment, and sweetly sorry for it the next, albeit her little spasms of rage were never serious, and seldom lasted long.
"Forgiven," murmured Grace. "But I am really anxious to know when we can start our Camping and Tramping Club. I think the idea is perfectly splendid! How did you come to think of it, Betty?"
"I got the idea from a book--it isn't original by any means. But then I always have been fond of walking--out in the country especially. Only it isn't so much fun going alone. So it occurred to me that you girls would like to join. We can take a nice long tramp the first opportunity we get."
"Just us four?" asked Grace.
"No, not necessarily. We can have as many members as we like."
"I think four is a nice number," spoke Amy. She was rather shy, and not given to making new friends.
"We four--no more!" declaimed Mollie. "Suppose we do limit it to four, Betty?"
"Well, we can talk of that later. And I do so want to talk of it. I thought we'd never get out of school," and the four who had just been released from the Deepdale High School continued their stroll down the main street of the town, talking over the new plan that had been proposed that morning by Betty Nelson--the "Little Captain," as she was often called by her chums, for she always assumed the leadership in their fun and frolics.
"Will we just walk--walk all the while?" asked Grace. "I'm afraid I shan't be able to keep up to you girls in that case," and she swung about on the sidewalk in a few steps of a mazy waltz with Amy.
"Of course we won't walk all the while," explained Betty. "I haven't all the details arranged yet, but we can set a certain number of miles to cover each day. At night we'll stop somewhere and rest."
"That's good," sighed Grace, with a glance at her small and daintily shod feet.
"Oh, here comes your brother Will!" Betty called to her.
"And that horrid Percy Falconer is with him," went on Mollie. "I--I can't bear him!"
"He's seen Betty--that's why he's hurrying so," spoke Grace. "Probably he's bought a new cane he wants to show her."
"Stop it!" commanded Betty, with a blush. "You know I can't bear him any more than you girls can."
"You can't make Percy believe that--my word!" and Mollie imitated the mannerism perfectly. For young Falconer, be it known, was partial to good clothes of a rather flashy type, and much given to showing them off. He had very little good sense--in fact, what little he had, some of his enemies used to say, he displayed when he showed a preference for pretty Betty Nelson. But she would have none of his company.
"I don't see why Will wants to bring him along," remarked his sister Grace, in a petulant tone. "He knows we don't like him."
"Perhaps Will couldn't help it," suggested Amy.
"That's nice of you to say, Amy," commented Grace. "I'll tell Will--some time when I get a chance."
"Don't you dare! If you do I'll never speak to you again!" and the pink surged to a deeper red in Amy's cheeks.
"Betty'd much rather have Will pick up Allen Washburn," remarked Mollie, in decisive tones. "Wouldn't you, Bet?"
"Oh, please don't say such things!" besought Betty. "I don't see why you always--"
"Hush, they'll hear you," cautioned Grace. "Let's pretend we don't see them. Hurry up! I've got a quarter, and I'll treat you to sodas. Come on in Pierson's drug store."
"Too late!" moaned Billy, in mock-tragic tones. "They are waving to us--we can't be too rude."
Will Ford, the brother of Grace, accompanied by a rather overdressed youth slightly older, had now come up to