“I hope we are not intruding,” said Mr. Kennedy, “but we want to borrow some salt, if you have any.”
Betty looked at them curiously. Was this a subterfuge—a means to an acquaintance? Her manner stiffened a trifle, and she glanced at Aunt Kate.
“You see we came off on a little picnic like yourselves,” explained Mr. Stone, “and Bob, here, forgot the salt.”
“You told me you’d put it in yourself, Harry!” exclaimed the other, “and of course I thought you did.”
“Well, be that as it may,” said his friend, “we have no salt. We heard your voices over here and decided to be bold enough to ask for some. Do you remember us, Miss Nelson?”
“Oh, yes.” Betty’s manner softened. The explanation was sufficient. Clearly the young men had not resorted to this trick to scrape an acquaintance with the girls.
“Is there anything else you’d like?” asked impulsive Mollie. “Grace has plenty of candy, I think, and as for olives——” she tilted one empty bottle, and smiled. Mr. Kennedy smiled back in a frank manner. Betty decided that introductions would be in good form, since they had learned that the young men were “perfectly proper.”
Names were exchanged, and Mr. Kennedy and his friend sat down on the grass. They did not seem in any special hurry about the salt, now that it was offered.
“We hope you haven’t changed your minds about the race and regatta,” spoke Mr. Stone, after some generalities had been exchanged. “By the way, I have the entry blanks for you,” and he passed the papers to Betty, who accepted them with murmured thanks.
“We shall very likely enter both the pageant and the race,” she said. “When do they take place?”
“The pageant will be held two nights hence. That will really open the carnival. The boats, decorated as suit the fancies of the owners, will form in line, and move about the lake, past the judges’ stand. There will be prizes for the most beautifully decorated boat, the oddest, and also the worst, if you understand me. I mean by the last that some captains have decided to make their boats look like wrecks, striving after queer effects.”
“I should not like that,” said Betty, decidedly. “But if there is time, and we can do it, we might decorate?” and she looked at her chums questioningly.