a nice long ride like that, when we want to snooze off, and feel luxurious."

"And they look so common when they're all strapped around like gypsies moving. As if we couldn't wait for the express," added Madaline.

"There, don't you see how near we are coming to a honeymoon?" said Grace. "I'm sure no hope chest of mine will ever be more important than this vacation trunk. Shall we take our Scout uniforms?"

"Shall we?" echoed Madaline.

"Oh, certainly," replied Cleo. "The mountains are wonderful for hikes."

"But we are going to make it an absolute vacation," Grace reminded the others.

"We will surely want a hike for the fun of it," resumed Cleo, "and I don't believe we could enjoy the mountains, if bush and bramble bite at our regular skirts. The khaki is so strong and durable, it defies even the wild black berries, and you know what pests they are."

"Well, I brought each of us a little note book; daddy gave them to me," said Madaline, "and let's sit down, and make out our lists and schedules. Isn't it thrilling? Surely this is as good as a honeymoon, just as Grace says. We might call it a 'Junior Jaunt,' I'm going to put that at the head of my note book," and the dimples dotted in advance the precious page of preparations.

While we leave the chums to their plans for the vacation at Bellaire, which is to be much more than a vacation in its exploits, experiences, and adventures, we may renew our acquaintance with these same girls met in the first volume of the series: "The Girl Scout Pioneers; or, Winning the First B. C." As told in this story it was through the mill town of Pennsylvania, known as Flosstown, because of its noted silk industries, that the True Tred Troop of Girl Scouts found scouting a delightful means of getting in touch with girls in the mills, whose characteristics and peculiar foreign traits stamped them as picturesque, novel and fascinating. Tessie and Dagmar, two girls of the Fluffdown Mills, decide to break away from their surroundings and do actually run away, falling into the "hands of the police," in a most peculiar way.

Dagmar is housed in a novel jail, while Tessie is "at large" still, trying to make her way to the beckoning city, with its alleged thrills and glories. After disastrous experiences Tessie obtains employment in the home of the fairy-like Jacqueline Douglass, and through the jolly scouting of Cleo, Grace and Madaline (the trio who tied a man to a tree in River Bend Woods) the runaway girls are finally brought together at a Fairy-Fantasy in the wildwoods, all secretly planned by Jacqueline. The identity of the man who was the "victim of scouts" is finally disclosed, and the mystery is eventually unraveled. A hidden deed, worthy of particular merit, was privately marked to the credit of Cleo, who had risked her life to save that of another girl, and, in doing so, had promised herself no one would know of the adventure. But for this she is finally awarded the Bronze Cross, much to her own and her companions' surprise.

The story has a purpose, and to both the American girls and those of foreign extraction it shows the value of such safe and sane agencies as the Girl Scouts, while the book is absorbing in its plot, quite irrespective of the Scout detail.

And now the three girls of True Tred Troop are deciding to shed their drills and meetings, while seeking adventure in the pretty town of Bellaire, nestled against the New Jersey mountains. Madaline had furnished the note books, while she and her companions were furnishing the notes.

"There," decided Cleo, jerking her head to one side in the bird-like way that had earned for her the name of Perky, "if we carry all these plans out we will surely have a wonderfully neat trip. I want it to be neat, and I positively protest against bananas, oranges, or other slushy fruit en route. When we want to eat à la carte we must dismount. Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if our car should break down, and we would have to finish our journey on muleback!"

"Or take a stage coach!" suggested Grace.

"I prefer an express wagon, it's more roomy," put in Madaline, "and a stage coach in Jersey would be nothing but a plain jitney, full of women, and bundles——"

"And nary a bandit to hold us up, except the charity campaigners demanding their toll," finished Cleo. "Well, I guess we had best stick to the good touring car, and thank our lucky stars dad has business in New York, and momsey wants to do some shopping, that includes everybody and everything. Now there is nothing left but the horrible details, all written down in Madie's nice little books. Thank you, Madie, for the contribution, and now let's adjourn. There is no end of things to attend to. Isn't it just glorious to think of having at least a month in the best part of young summer?"

They all thought it was, and with the decision their actual preparations were begun.

CHAPTER II

BEAUTIFUL BELLAIRE

The great day had come, and with it the girls arrived in Bellaire, after a delightful motor trip from Pennsylvania. Stopping in the morning at New York, Mr. Harris, whose guests they were, piloted them to one of the big hotels, where their own touring car took its place in the long line of handsome motors, and where Collins, the Harris chauffeur, looked quite as important as any of the other uniformed drivers.

"Now, suppose we were all piled up with hat boxes," whispered Grace to
Madaline, for Grace had a distinct liking for good style.

"But isn't it warm?" remarked Cleo, whose tangled tresses had a way of gathering heat. "I almost wish I had worn a thin blouse."

"We'll order a light lunch, Kimball," remarked Mrs. Harris to her husband, "as the girls can scarcely wait to get out to Bellaire. Then I'll return with you, and we will leave them to their fate. I'm sure it will be a kind fate when directed by your good natured sister. Hope she won't spoil them." And the waiter returning with the order would surely have smiled, had he been human, and not a waiter, for the group awaiting his approach made small effort to conceal his welcome.

En route once more from New York to Bellaire it seemed but a few minutes' run, when finally they drew up to the big rustic house, set back in a rocky nook against the mountain.

"Oh, isn't it lovely!" exclaimed Madaline, "and everything is so clear after smoky Pennsylvania."

"Yes, Bellaire is beautiful," Cleo replied, with a show of pride that her relation should be the benefactor. "I know we'll have a wonderful time. Aunt Audrey is like a girl herself, and she knows what girls enjoy."

"Oh, her husband is the author, isn't he?" Grace remembered. "We'll have a chance to see how he writes all his funny books."

"'Fraid not," said Cleo, "Uncle Guy is away. We are going to have everything to ourselves but his study. You can be sure that's all locked up. But look! See that queer woman dressed like a gypsy! See her going along by the hedge! What—do you suppose she is looking for?"

"Early dandelions, perhaps," ventured Mrs. Harris, who had overheard the question as she stopped in her luggage directions to Collins.

"But she isn't like a gypsy either," Cleo insisted. "Look at the lace head dress!"

"And the girl with her," interposed Grace. "My, but she's dressed queer, too. Looks like something from the stage or movies."

The old woman and child had now come up to the big gateway, where the touring car was parked awaiting the exit of another motor that happened to be standing in the Dunbar