don’t you?”

“Yes, and there really isn’t anything goody-goody about us, Marcia. You’d soon find that out if you were with us.”

“Well, I’m very glad that so many people have been led to know the truth about us,” said Eleanor, with a smile. “If everyone knew the truth about the Camp Fire, it would soon be as big and as influential as even the most enthusiastic of us hope it will be. And I’m sure that we’ll grow very fast now, because when girls understand us they see that we simply help them to have the sort of good times they enjoy most. Having a good time is a pretty important thing in this life.”

“I—I rather thought you would think that we spent too much time just having a good time,” said Marcia, plainly rather surprised by this statement.

“I don’t say anything about you girls in particular, because I don’t know enough about you,” replied Eleanor. “Of course, it’s easy to get to be so bound up in enjoying yourself that you don’t think of anything else. But people who do that soon get tired of just amusing themselves, so, as a rule, there’s no great harm done. They get so that everything they do bores them, and they turn to something serious and useful, for a change.”

“But you just said having a good time was important—”

“And I meant it,” said Eleanor, with a smile. “Because it’s just as bad to go to one extreme as to the other, and that’s true in about everything. People who never work, but spend all their time playing aren’t happy, as a rule, or healthy, either. And people who reverse that, and work all the time without ever playing, are in just about the same boat, only they’re really worse off than the others, because it’s harder for them to change.”

“I think I’m beginning to see what you mean, Miss Mercer.”

“Why, of course you are, Marcia! It’s in the middle ground that the right answer lies. Work a little, and play a little, that’s the way to get on and be happy. When you’ve worked hard, you need some sort of relaxation, and it’s pretty important to know how to enjoy yourself, and have a good time.”

“And you certainly can have bully good times in the Camp Fire,” said Dolly, enthusiastically. “I’ve never enjoyed myself half so much as I have since I’ve belonged. Why, we have bacon bats, and picnics, and all sorts of things that are the best fun you ever dreamed of, Marcia. Much nicer than those stiff old parties you and I used to go to all the time, when we always did the same things, and could tell before we went just what was going to happen.”

“And the regular camp fires, the ceremonial ones, Dolly,” reminded Bessie. “Don’t you think Marcia would enjoy that?”

“Oh, I know she would! Couldn’t I bring her to one some time?” Dolly asked Eleanor.

“She’ll be very welcome, any time,” said Eleanor with a smile. “There’s nothing secret about the Camp Fire meetings,” she went on. “They’re not a bit like high school and private school fraternities or sororities—whichever you call them.”

“Why, look where we are!” said Marcia suddenly. “We’ll be at the dock pretty soon.”

“Why, so we will!” Eleanor said. “That’s Cranford, sure enough, girls! We get off here, and begin our real tramp.”

“I wish we were going with you,” said Marcia, with a sigh of regret. “But we can’t, of course. Well, I told Dolly we might have a surprise for her pretty soon, and we will if I’ve got anything to say about it, too. This has been awfully jolly! I guess I know a lot more about your Camp Fire now than I ever expected to. And I’ve enjoyed hearing every word, too.”

Soon the little steamer was made fast to the dock, and the Camp Fire Girls streamed off, lining up on the dock. On the steamer the girls from Camp Halsted—all but Gladys Cooper, who had not made the trip—lined up, leaning over the rail.

“We’ll see them off as the boat goes right back again,” said Eleanor. “And let’s give them the Wo-he-lo cheer for good-bye, girls.”

So their voices rose on the quiet air as the steamer’s whistle shrieked, and she began to pull out.

“Good-bye! Good luck!” cried Marcia and all the Halsted girls. “And come back whenever you can! We’ll have a mighty different sort of welcome for you next time!”

“Good-bye! And thank you ever so much for the blankets!” called the Camp Fire Girls.

At Cranford began the road which the Camp Fire Girls were to follow through Indian Notch, the gap between the two big mountains, Mount Grant and Mount Sherman. Then they were to travel easily toward the seashore, since the Manasquan Camp Fire, ever since it had been organized, had spent a certain length of time each summer by the sea.

The Village of Cranford had been saved from the fire only by a shift of the wind. The woods to the west and the north had been burning briskly for several days, and every able-bodied man in the village had been out, day and night, with little food and less rest, trying to turn off the fire. In spite of all their efforts, however, they would have failed in their task if the change in the weather had not come to their aid. As a consequence, everyone in the village, naturally enough, was still talking about the fire.

“It isn’t often that a village in this part of the country has such a narrow escape,” said Eleanor, looking around, “See, girls, you can see for yourselves how close they were to having to turn and run from the fire.”

“It looks as if some of the houses here had actually been on fire,” said Dolly, as they passed into the outskirts of the village.

“I expect they were. You see, the wind was very high just before the shift came, and it would carry sparks and blazing branches. It’s been a very hot, dry summer, too, and so all the wooden houses were ready to catch fire. The paint was dry and blistered. They probably had to watch these houses very carefully, to be ready to put out a fire the minute it started.”

“It didn’t look so bad from our side of the lake, though, did it?”

“The smoke hid the things that were really dangerous from us, but here they could see all right. I’ll bet that before another summer comes around they’ll be in a position to laugh at a fire.”

“How do you mean? Is there anything they can do to protect themselves—before a fire starts, I mean?”

“That’s the time to protect themselves. When people wait until the fire has actually begun to burn, it’s almost impossible for them to check it. It would have been this time, if the wind had blown for a few hours longer the way it was doing when the fire started.”

“But what can they do?”

“They can have a cleared space between the town and the forest, for one thing, with a lot of brush growing there, if they want to keep that. Then, if a fire starts, they can set the brush afire, and make a back fire, so that the big fire will be checked by the little one. The fire has to have something to feed on, you see, and if it comes to a cleared space that’s fairly wide, it can’t get any further.

“Oh, a cleared space like that doesn’t mean that the village could go to sleep and feel safe! But it’s a lot easier to fight the fire then. All the men in town could line up, with beaters and