“Are the Allbright Woods very wild?” asked Grace, as the auto left the main road and began the trip along a less frequented highway, the day following the inception of the plan.

“Wild enough, I fancy you’ll find,” said the Captain.  “My friends think it an ideal outdoor place in many respects.  I hope you will like it.”

“Don’t worry, please, we shall,” declared Margaret.

Each girl took along a small suitcase, filled with such belongings as she thought she would need.  These, of course, included their complete scout uniforms, while they wore dresses of plain but serviceable material, which would almost serve the purpose of their khaki outfits, in case they were obliged, for any reason, to lay those aside in camp.  It was decided two outfits were necessary, and the uniforms packed easiest.

Captain Clark’s friends had even sent their car for the girls to make the trip to Nomoko, so there was really little for the quartette to do except pack up and start.  As Cleo had remarked it was almost camping de luxe.

The journey, though enjoyable, was almost lost in the real joy of camping anticipation.

“Here we are!” announced the Captain, after a ride of about four hours in the car, during which time no worse mishap occurred than a blowout, and for this the chauffeur was ready with an already inflated “spare,” so little time was lost in replacing the tire.

“Does he stay with us—­at camp, I mean?” asked Cleo in a whisper, pointing to the driver, as the car swung into a rough wood road.

“No, he is to go back to his own duties as soon as he leaves us at Nomoko,” answered Captain Clark in a low voice.  “But he will bring us home Tuesday, when my friends return to their tents.”

“And will we be left all alone in the camp, without means of getting out of the woods if we want to go?” asked Margaret.

“Well, I believe there is a branch railroad line about ten miles away,” said Captain Clark, “and if we have to—­”

“We can walk, of course!” interrupted Cleo.  “That’s a mere sprint.  A ten-mile hike is a trifle.”

“Did you say triffle or truffle?” asked Grace.

“Truffles don’t grow here, nothing but mushrooms and toadstools,” broke in Margaret.  “All Girl Scouts ought to know that!” “Thanks for the information,” retorted Grace.  “Oh, what a perfectly scrumptious place!” she exclaimed as, after some rather severe jolting and swaying from side to side, the auto came to a stop in the depths of a grove of trees, amid which were pitched several tents and a slab-sided shack; from the stovepipe of the shack smoke drifted, and with it emanated the most appetizing odors.

“This is Nomoko,” said Captain Clarke, as she nodded a greeting to the colored caretaker and his wife, the latter appearing in the door of the shack, with a red bandanna handkerchief tied around her kinky head.  “I have been here before.”