“When does the tramping club start?”

“As soon as school closes,” replied Betty, for the term ended unusually early that year.

“Have you the party all made up?” inquired Kittie, and it was evident that she had a reason for asking.

“Pretty much,” answered Betty, wondering what was to follow.  “It’s your serve,” she added to Grace.

“Alice and I are very fond of walking,” proceeded Kittie.  “We thought if the Camping and Tramping Club was to be a general one—­that is, if you wanted more members—­we’d like to join.”

Betty caught her breath.  It was a hard answer to give.

“I’m awfully sorry,” she said softly, coming over to where Alice and Kittie stood.  “If we had known before we might have arranged it.  But our membership is limited to four now.”

“You four, I presume,” and there was almost a sneer in the voice of Alice as she looked at the four chums.

“Yes, it so happens.  You see we are going to stop each night at the houses of friends or relatives, and of course—­”

“I see—­the accommodations are limited; are they?” and again that sneer was manifest.

“Yes, they are, I’m sorry to say,” spoke Betty.  “But why don’t you girls form another club?  You could easily do that, and we could be together all day, if not at night.  Why don’t you?” she asked, brightly.

“We might,” said Alice, cooly.  “Come on, Kittie,” she added.  “I guess we’re not wanted here.”

“The idea!” cried Mollie.  “Betty, I’ve a good notion to—­”

“Hush!” cautioned Betty, placing a hand on the arm of her impetuous chum.  “Don’t say anything.  It will only make matters worse.  They are trying to provoke us.”

Kittie and Alice walked off, their arms about each other’s waist, laughing heartily at something in which they seemed to find a good joke.

“Let us finish the game,” suggested Betty quietly to Grace, and they did.

“I don’t see how they could be so bold as to ask us,” murmured Mollie.

It was one afternoon, a few days before the close of school for the term, which also would mark the start of the outdoor girls on their tramping tour that, as she was packing her books to leave her desk for the day, Betty saw a note fall out of her Latin grammar.

“That’s strange,” she murmured, half aloud, “I wonder who could have put that there?  Who is it from, I wonder?”

“As if you didn’t know!” laughed Amy, coming up behind her friend.  They were alone in the classroom for the moment.

“Why, what do you mean?” asked Betty blushing slightly.

“I think I saw Will give Grace a note this noon,” went on Amy.  “Ah, secrets!  And doesn’t it happen that Will and Allen Washburn are quite chummy?  If the initials A.W. aren’t on that note, Betty—­”

“Of course they’re not!  The idea!  Allen Washburn needn’t think—­”

“Oh, I know he needn’t send notes to you this way, but perhaps Will forgot to deliver it, and Grace just slipped it into your book, intending to tell you of it.  Ah, Betty!”