CHAPTER IX

OFF ON THE TOUR

“How do we look?”

“Don’t you think these skirts are too short?”

“Isn’t it fine to have—­pockets?”

“Oh, Grace Ford!  You’ll never be able to walk in those shoes!  Girls, just look at those French heels!” It was Amy who spoke.

“They’re not French!” declared Grace, driven to self-defense.  “They’re a modified Cuban.”

“Not enough modification, then; that’s what I say!” exclaimed Mollie, the three expressions which opened this chapter having come from Betty, Grace and Amy, respectively.  “They’re of the French—­Frenchy, Grace, my dear!”

“I don’t care!  I tried to get fitted in the kind of shoes you girls have,” and Grace looked at the stout and substantial walking boots of her companions, “but they didn’t have my size.  The man is going to send for them, and he said he’d forward them to Middleville.  They’ll be there when we arrive.”

“All right, as long as you’re going to get them,” spoke Betty.  “You never could belong to our Camping and Tramping Club in those shoes, Grace.”

“Well, they’re the largest I have, and I don’t think the heels are so very high; do you?” and she appealed to the others.

“Here are Will and Frank,” spoke Amy.  “We’ll let them decide.”

“Oh, Will is sure to say something mean,” declared his sister.  “Don’t you dare mention heels to him!”

“Ready for the hike?” demanded Will, as he came up with his chum.

“We start in half an hour,” replied Betty, in the front yard of whose house the others were gathered.  “Gracious, I know I haven’t half the things I need.  What did I do with that alcohol stove?”

“I saw you put it in the case,” said Amy.

“Oh, yes, so I did.  I declare I don’t know what I’m doing!  Now, girls, is there anything else to be thought of?”

“If there is, I’m not capable of it,” declared Mollie.  “I am a wreck,” and she leaned against patient Amy for support.

“We’ll go part way with you,” offered Will.

“You shall not!” exclaimed his sister.  “You’ll make all manner of fun of us, and—­”

“No, we won’t—­I promise!” exclaimed Frank, earnestly.

“Oh, let them come,” pleaded Betty.

“Then go get Percy,” urged Grace.

“Don’t you dare!” cried Betty.

“Well, here comes Allen Washburn, anyhow,” went on the tall girl.  “At least we’ll have enough escorts.”  Betty blushed and hurried into the house on some pretense or other.

The girls were to travel “light,” taking with them only a few articles of clothing.  Their suitcases they had arranged to send on ahead, so that they would be at each stopping place in the evening when the little party arrived.  Then on leaving in the morning the satchels would again be dispatched in advance.  Near the end of the route trunks would await them.