Chapter IV: The Coming of Crazy Jane

After bidding good-bye to the hospitable squire and his good wife, next morning, the girls started over the fields on their way down the valley on the other side of the ridge. Before leaving they had pressed their camp dresses and the girls now looked very neat in their dark blue uniforms that they had worn at Camp Wau-Wau. They wore also the official hat of the Camp Girls, to which organization they belonged. The hat was of blue cloth with the letters "C. G." in white embroidered on the front.

About their necks the girls wore a few brightly colored beads which to them meant more than precious stones, for each girl had won her beads by achievements as a Camp Girl. They hoped to win more on the long tramp across country. Harriet and Tommy had won several beads apiece, already, by their bravery at the barn fire, though of course the beads had not been awarded as yet. That would not be until after Miss Elting had made her report to the Chief Guardian at the completion of the trip.

The girls were now well on their way hoping soon to find Jane McCarthy and her car awaiting them. It was a five mile tramp over rough and steep hills, through woods and ravines. By this time however the Meadow-Brook Girls were becoming accustomed to rough traveling. The only one who made any really serious complaints was Margery Brown. She was usually in distress, but it was observed that the stout girl was beginning to lose considerable flesh. Her freckles were more pronounced, however, and her face was redder than it ever had been before.

The party, after a trying hike, reached the top of the range of hills about eleven o'clock in the morning. A long, sloping meadow stretched away from them until it met the highway.

"There is the road," cried Harriet.

"But Crazy Jane ith nowhere in thight," observed Tommy solemnly.

"This is where we should have been last night," nodded Miss Elting. "But we should have missed all of our exciting experiences of last night had we taken the right trail."

"Missed them!" exclaimed Margery. "I wish we had. I never shall get over thinking about that awful fire and that horrid old Gipsy woman."

Harriet smiled to herself thinking that it was well that Margery had not seen the dark-faced men enter the barn that night.

"Shall we wait, or go on?" questioned Harriet.

Miss Elting decided that they should go on after reaching the highway. She told the girls to keep a sharp lookout for "signs." The sign of the Meadow-Brook Girls was a triangle. It might be found chalked on a fence or elsewhere by the roadside. An arrow pointing away from the triangle indicated the direction in which a Meadow-Brook girl had traveled. An arrow pointing straight up indicated, "I will return." An arrow pointing toward the ground meant, "wait here." A broken arrow, pointing in any direction indicated, "danger."

Reaching the highway the girls scanned the fences. Most of these being wire fences there was no space for any of the signs that they had agreed upon before starting out on their tramp. Occasionally they halted to examine a sign board at the junction of two or more roads, but nowhere did they find any trace of Jane and her car. There were not even tire tracks in the road. The pedestrians had almost made up their minds that Crazy Jane herself had missed her way when Harriet suddenly held up her hand.

"I hear the honk of a motor horn," she said.

"And there's the sign on that hog pen," laughed Miss Elting, pointing to a pig sty close to where they were standing. "That's just like Jane. The arrow says we are to wait here."

"A pig pen ith thertainly a nithe plathe to wait," observed Tommy sarcastically.

"We don't have to wait in the pen, you goose," jeered Margery.

"Tho I thee," answered Tommy imperturbably.

"There she comes!" shouted Hazel.

Crazy Jane McCarthy, her blonde hair streaming over her shoulders, rounded a bend in the road, the rear wheels of her car skidding nearly to the ditch on the outside of the curve. Jane was shouting and waving one hand. She brought the car up sliding and leaped to the ground.

"You dears! Where have you been?" she cried, embracing each of the girls in turn, not forgetting Miss Elting.

"The question, is where have you been?" laughed the guardian.

"Racing up and down the road looking for you," returned Jane.

"Where did you sleep?" questioned Harriet.

"At a farm house over in the valley," chuckled Jane. "Where did you sleep?"

"We were in a barn part of the night. Regular tramps, aren't we," answered Harriet, her eyes sparkling.

"Yeth, and--and the barn burned down," explained Grace.

"What?"

"Grace is right," Miss Elting informed Jane. "Lightning struck the barn, burning it to the ground. Harriet saved an old Gipsy woman from being burned to death. She had been stunned by the bolt of lightning and for the time being was paralyzed."

"Oh, what a shame!" exclaimed Jane. "I always have to be absent when the fun is going on. Think of poor me tearing up and down the road, half crazy because I'd lost you and you having so much fun all the time," she complained. "Who was the woman you saved, darlin'?" she questioned, turning admiring eyes on Harriet Burrell.

"A Gipsy. She called herself Sybarina," answered Harriet.

"And did the Gipsy tell your fortune, Harriet?"

"Yes, she did," cried Margery. "She said Harriet was going to be a great lady, rich and some other things that I didn't understand. Then Sybarina gave Harriet her blessing."

"Now, Jane," said Harriet mischievously. "Tell us about the way you ran down the farmer's calf."

Jane gazed at Harriet frowningly, then burst into laughter.

"What do you know about that? Who has been telling tales?"

"The farmer said you shaved the hair off the calf's tail with your car."

"I was sorry for the calf, but you ought to have seen the farmer wave his arms and run after me. He was fairly pulling the hair out of his head with rage," chuckled Crazy Jane. "Well, dears, what have you in mind? Want to take a nice ride in the car?"

Harriet shook her head with emphasis.

"When we started on this tramp we agreed that we wouldn't ride in your car at all. I, for one, am going to keep to that agreement."

"Don't tempt me," said Hazel, chancing to catch the merry eye of Jane McCarthy.

"We didn't agree not to eat in the car, did we?" questioned Tommy. "That latht gully I fell into gave me an awful appetite."

"Wait! I'll set the table," cried Jane, dashing to the car and unlocking the luggage trunk at the rear. From under the rear seat she took a board, which she laid across the rear compartment. Over this she spread a white cloth and on it began placing a cold luncheon that was sufficiently appetizing in looks to excite the poorest appetite. Tommy eyed it longingly.

"Get in, girls," commanded Jane. They made a rush for the car. "I have a can of milk in the locker, if the jolting of this old wagon hasn't soured it. You see, I drove rather fast this morning. I wanted to find you. I didn't know what had become of you. Yes; the milk is all right."

There in Jane's car by the side of the road they ate their luncheon, giving no heed to the curious glances of passers-by.

"Did the farmer really tell you about that calf?" questioned Jane, when the girls had nearly finished their meal.

"Yes. It was in his barn we slept until it caught fire," explained the guardian. "He then took us to his home and he and his wife were perfectly lovely to us. I wish you had been with us. He is a quaint character."

"If he is anything like his calf, he must be," observed Crazy Jane. "It didn't know enough to get out of the road when it saw an automobile coming at forty-five miles an hour. Where are you going from here?"

"We must consult the map. Are there any good camping places beyond here, or were you going so fast you couldn't see?"

"I never drive so fast that I can't see," reproved Jane. "Yes. I know of a place, and it's a fine place for a camp too. It's called the Willow Ponds. It is just far enough back from the road, and there isn't a house in sight."

"How far is it from here?" asked Hazel.

"Five miles."

"Five mileth!" repeated Tommy wearily.

"Oh, help!" wailed Margery. "My feet won't hold out."

"Then ride with me," suggested Jane.

"Thank you," returned Margery, "but I consider walking the lesser of the two evils."

"I fear it will make too short a hike for us, for one day," reflected Miss Elting.

"It will make a ten mile hike," answered Harriet.

"Yes. But only five miles of walking on the main trail. We shall have advanced only five miles. However, perhaps it will be enough for one day."

"That latht gully I fell into gave me an awful appetite," reiterated Tommy apologetically, as she helped herself to another slice of cold roast beef.

"Tommy's appetite doesn't need that kind of stimulant," laughed Hazel. "Nor does mine. I think I shall have to have another slice of roast beef."

The luncheon ended, the girls reclined on the soft cushions of the car for half an hour, after which Harriet and Jane put away the dishes and the rest of the food.

"Are we ready to hike?" asked Harriet.

Margery's face took on a pained expression.

"Oh, I suppose so," she complained. "The sooner we start the sooner we shall get there. Then a long night's rest in our own tent. Oh, joy, oh, joy!"

"It may not be so very joyous, after all," retorted Miss Elting. "In this topsy-turvy bit of country _anything_ may happen, at _any_ moment, to keep us awake, or even to banish the wish for sleep."

"What we need," said Tommy soberly, "ith a nithe, good-natured dog that will bite folkth."

Miss Elting decided that it was time to start. So shouldering their packs the girls moved on.

"I'll be driving behind you," said Crazy Jane. "I'll be pace-maker. If you lag I'll remonstrate by riding over you! How will you like that?"

Miss Elting and Harriet set a good stride. The other girls straggled after them, Margery being last of all. Behind them all Jane drove the car slowly, the engine making no noise.

"We must walk faster, girls!" cried Miss Elting, looking back. "You, especially, Margery. Faster!"

"I couldn't move any faster," protested Margery wearily "even if I were paid for it."

Honk! Honk! Honk! sounded an automobile horn behind her. There was a whirr of fast-moving wheels.

HONK!

Turning, Margery saw the car bearing down upon her at full speed.

"O-o-o-h!" screamed Margery. Picking up her skirts a trifle she fled down the road, while Jane stopped the car just behind her.

"I'm sorry you can't move fast!" Jane called, teasingly.

Twice after that Crazy Jane forced Margery to quicken her lagging steps until at length poor Margery stepped aside, out of the road.

"Not another step for me, Jane McCarthy, unless you keep ahead of the whole party," declared the persecuted Camp Girl.

"Get in and ride," teased Jane.

"I--I believe I will," faltered Margery, who was limping now.

"Margery!" exclaimed Harriet rebukingly, "if you ride, then you will have to drop out of the hike, and we'll send you home."

"I--I think I'll keep on walking," Margery decided meekly.

The rest of the journey was accomplished without further complaints from either Tommy or Margery. Arriving at a place where they left the road and set off across a field, Jane explained that earlier in the day she had asked the permission of the owner of the field to camp there. She thought it would make an excellent camp site, the ponds being screened from the road by a heavy growth of willows, and there was plenty of dry wood to be had from the ruins of an old saw mill that stood near the ponds. The willows, also, would serve to hide the camp from the gaze of curious outsiders, a condition to be desired by young women tramping through the country.

The car was driven in among the willows, after which Harriet and Miss Elting began hauling the sections of their tent from the rear of the car. They went at the pitching of the tent like veterans, and placed the sections together, then raised the canvas, staking it down with the expertness of circusmen.

Harriet left the final staking-down to Tommy and Margery while she gathered the wood for the campfire. Jane and Miss Elting, in the meantime had begun getting out the supplies for supper. Two folding tables were set up in the tent, covered by fresh table cloths, on which were placed the dishes and the silver knives, forks and spoons that Jane had brought along. She said silver was none too good for the Meadow-Brook Girls. The water in the pond, being from nearby springs, was cool and refreshing. The girls decided to take a swim late in the evening after their suppers had been well digested.

It was a merry party of happy, brown-faced girls that sat down to the evening meal with the cheerful campfire blazing just outside, and the cool, fragrant autumn breezes drifting through the tent. Everything was charmingly peaceful, but the peace of the night was to be rudely disturbed later in the evening, and the girls were to have another exciting time of it ere they finally got to sleep.