“Pretty much,” replied Jack. “Cæsar’s pineapples! How they hurt though!”
“Be careful, girls,” cautioned Mrs. Bonnell. But a little observation told them that the hornets had gone back to repair the damage done by Phil’s stone thoughtlessly tossed into their nest.
“What do you do for the stings?” asked Blake of the farm lad.
“Ammonia is better,” volunteered Mrs. Bonnell. “Wait and I’ll get you boys some. I have a bottle of the strongest kind for my little pistol.”
“I wish we’d had that when they came at us,” murmured Phil, clasping a wrist that was rapidly getting to be twice its natural size.
The ammonia made the stings feel a little less painful, and then the boys went back to their camp to don dry clothes.
“I wonder if they found any evidence of those who have been helping themselves to things in our camp?” observed Natalie, as she and her companions left the large tent.
“Have you folks been missing things?” asked Reuben, as he overheard the talk.
“Yes,” answered Alice, “Whom do you think could have taken the stuff?”
“It’s them Gypsies!” declared Reuben. “Lots of folks around here are complainin’ of missing things. Not only the farmers but some cottagers and campers. Them Gypsies ought to be driven away. They’re a regular nuisance comin’ here every year.”
“Over at Bear Pond, some one told me. Did you girls find it that day all right?”
“Oh, yes—we _found_ it,” answered Marie, for they had agreed that they would not needlessly admit their failure to select the right road home.
“No,” answered Mrs. Bonnell. And then, wishing to change the conversation she asked:
“Where are you going, Reuben, with your good clothes on?”
“Oh, you must be going somewhere,” she insisted, for he seemed but a little boy.
“Oh, I jest took half a day off and come over to see you folks,” he went on, and this time his ears were included in the general red color scheme of his face.
“That was nice of you,” went on the Guardian, while the girls tried hard not to giggle. “Won’t you sit down?”
“No, ma’am. I thought maybe some of you girls would like to come for a row,” and he motioned to a small, and not altogether water-tight boat that he had moored near the little dock.
“We can’t all get in that boat, Reuben,” said Marie.