“Oh, girls, I simply must rest again!” exclaimed Grace, as, with a wry face, she made for a smooth stump, which was all that was left of a great oak that had recently been cut down, as it had died, and was in danger of falling.

“What!  Again?” cried Mollie.  “Say, Grace, my dear, you never will be able to keep up with us on the tramp, if you give out so easily now.  What is the matter?”

“Matter?  Look at her shoes!” cried Amy.  “Such heels!”

“They’re not so awful high!” and Grace sought to defend her footwear from the three pairs of accusing eyes.

“It’s a very pretty boot,” remarked Betty.  “But hardly practical, my dear.”

“I suppose not,” sighed Grace.  “But I just simply could not resist the temptation to take them when the sales-girl tried them on me.  I saw them in Robertson’s window, and they were such a bargain—­a sample shoe she said—­that’s why they’re so narrow.”

“You can wear a narrow size,” spoke Mollie with a sigh.  “I wish I could.”

“Oh, I think your shoes are a lovely shape,” spoke Grace.  “I wish I had your high instep.”

“Move over,” begged Amy.  “There’s room for two on that stump, Grace.”

Grace obligingly moved, and her friend sat beside her, idly swinging a couple of books by a long strap.  Betty and Mollie supported themselves by draping their arms about each other’s waists.

“‘Patience on a monument,’” quoted Betty, looking at the two on the stump.

“Which one?” asked Mollie with a laugh.

“We’ll divide the virtues between us; won’t we, Amy?” exclaimed Grace, putting her head on the other’s shoulder.  “Now I’m—­”

“The sleeping beauty!” supplied Betty, “Do come on!” and after a little argument, in which Grace insisted that she had not had more than a minute’s respite, the four started off again.  They were approaching the outskirts of the town in the vicinity of which they all lived.

“If this weather keeps up we can’t start off on our tramping and camping trip any too soon,” remarked Grace.

“When can we arrange for it?” asked Amy.  “I think it is the nicest idea I ever heard of.”

“You can all come over to my house to-night,” suggested Betty.  “We can make some plans then, perhaps.”

“Let’s, then!” cried impulsive Mollie.  “But do you really intend to do any camping, Betty?”

“Yes, if we can.  Of course not for any length of time—­say a night or two.  There are one or two places where camps are open the year around, and all you have to do is to go there and board, just as you would at a hotel.”

“Only it must be much nicer,” said Amy.

“It is—­lots.”

They had reached a place where the highway ran under a railroad line, that crossed on a high bridge.  As the girls came under the structure a fluttering bit of paper on the ground caught the eyes of Betty.  Rather idly she picked it up, and the next moment she uttered a cry that brought her chums to her side in some alarm.