The Girls of Central High in Camp Part 9

"There you go again--calling a serious thing like that a joke," cried the small boy. "Look at it--at the wheel of the _d.u.c.h.ess_! How ever did it crawl aboard? I bet a cent it's been living in the bottom of the lake for years and years, and has come up to the light of day for the first time now."

"You ridiculous thing!" snapped Lily Pendleton. "Do you mean Prettyman Sweet?"

"My goodness gracious Agnes!" gasped Billy. "That's never Purt Sweet?

_Don't_ tell me he's disguised himself for a n.i.g.g.e.r minstrel show in that fas.h.i.+on?"

They were all laughing at the unconscious Purt by now--all save Lily; and Chet said, gravely:

"There is something the matter with your eyesight, Short and Long.

That's Purt in a brand new outing suit."

"He didn't dress like that to go camping?" murmured Billy. "Say not so! Somebody dared him to do it!"

It was a fact that the exquisite of Central High had decked himself out in most astonis.h.i.+ng array--considering that he was expected to "rough it" in the woods instead of appear at a lawn party on the "Hill."

"His tailor put him up to that suit," chuckled Lance. "He told me so.

As he expects to live in the sylvan forest, as did the 'merrie, merrie men' of Robin Hood, Purt is dolled up accordingly."

"Gee!" breathed Bobby. "Do you suppose Robin Hood ever looked like that?"

"That's Lincoln green," announced Lance, trying to keep his face straight. "You notice that the pants are short--knickerbockers, in fact. They are tied just below the knee with 'ribbands' in approved outlaw style."

"Oh, my!" giggled Dora Lockwood. "Do you suppose they hurt him?"

"What hurts him most is the leather belt at which is slung a long-bladed hunting knife so dull that it wouldn't cut cheese! But the knife handle gets in his way every time he stoops."

"Oh! he's so funny!" gasped Dorothy Lockwood. "You boys are certainly going to have a great time with Pretty Sweet on this trip."

"I don't think it is funny at all," muttered Lily Pendleton. "That rude little thing, Billy Long, tries to be too smart."

"But look at the cap!" gasped Laura, who was herself too much amused to ignore the queer get-up of their cla.s.smate. "Where did he get the idea of _that_?"

"It's a tam-o'-shanter," said Lance. "Another idea of the tailor's.

That tailor, I think, tries things out on Pretty. If Pretty doesn't get shot wearing them, then he puts similar garments on his dummies and risks them outside his shop door."

"But what has he got stuck into the cap?" pursued Laura.

"A feather. Rather, the remains of one," chuckled Lance. "It was quite a long one when he started for the dock this morning; but he crossed the street right under the noses of Si c.u.mming's team of mules that draws the ice-wagon, and that off mule grabbed the best part of the feather. You know, that mule will eat anything."

"Well, one thing is sure," drawled Bobby. "If Purt is supposed to represent a Sherwood Forest outlaw, and he ever meets one of the outlaws of the Big Woods that he's been worried about, the latter 'squashbuckler' will be scared to death."

"'Squashbuckler' is good!" chuckled Jess. "Some of those old villains I expect _were_ squashes."

"My dear!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed her mother. "I fear the language you young folk use does not speak well for your instructors of Central High."

"I guess we do not cast much glory upon our teachers, Mrs. Morse,"

rejoined Laura, laughing.

"It's only Short and Long, here, who 'does the teachers proud,'" said her brother, with a grin. "Hear about what he got off in Ancient History cla.s.s the other day? Professor Dimp pretty nearly set him back for _that_."

"Aw--now," growled Billy. "He asked for a date, didn't he?"

"What's the burn?" demanded Bobby, briskly.

"Why, Old Dimple asked Billy to mention a memorable date in Roman history, and Billy says: 'Antony's with Cleopatra.'"

"Oh, oh, oh!" gasped Jess. "That's the worst kind of slang."

Mrs. Morse paid the young folk very little attention. She had withdrawn from the group and was busy with pencil and notebook.

"When mother gets to work that way, she heeds neither time, place, nor any pa.s.sing event," laughed Jess. "She expects to sketch out her whole book while she is at camp with us."

"She's going to be a dandy chaperone," declared Chet. "Suppose we'd had Miss Carrington along?"

"Goodness!" groaned Bobby. "Don't let's mention that lady again this summer."

"And we can cut out Old Dimple, too," grumbled Billy Long.

"He's off somewhere on a trip, so we won't have to bother about him,"

said Chet, with confidence.

The girls had begun to compare notes regarding what they had packed in their suitcases, long before the boats reached Lumberport; and some of them discovered that they had neglected to bring some very essential things.

"You'll just have to tie up beyond the Main Street bridge, and give us a chance to shop, Chet," announced Laura. "We're making good time as it is."

"Isn't that just like a parcel of girls?" grumbled Billy. "Now, we fellows didn't forget a thing--you bet!"

"Wait till we unpack at camp," chuckled Chet. "We'll see about that, then."

He and Lance agreed to make the halt as the girls requested; and they shouted to the crowd on the smaller boat to do the same. As Lily Pendleton was one of the girls who must shop in Lumberton, Purt Sweet was most willing to tarry and accompany the girls ash.o.r.e.

He was, in fact, the only escort the girls had when they went up into the town in search of the several articles they needed. The dude was evidently proud of his outing suit and, as Billy suggested, "wanted to give the people of Lumberport a treat."

So he swaggered along up Main Street with the girls. Not a block from the wharf at which the boats were tied he met with an adventure.

"Whatever impression Purt is making on the good people of this town,"

whispered Nellie Agnew to Laura, "he has certainly smitten a four-footed inhabitant with a deep, deep interest."

"What's that?" asked Laura, turning swiftly to see. Bobby Hargrew looked, likewise. Purt and Lily were behind, and Bobby immediately shouted:

"Say, Purt who's your friend?"

"What's that, Miss Hargrew?" asked Purt staring. "I weally don't get you--don't you know?"

"But he'll get _you_ in a minute," chuckled Bobby.

"Don't pay any attention to her, Mr. Sweet," said Lily. "She's a vulgar little thing."