"
CHAPTER XIII
"NOBODY WANTS TO BE DONE GOOD TO"
A canoe containing three girls had been out on the waters of the lake
near the foot of Sunrise Hill for the past two hours. A part of the
time it had been swiftly shot through the water only to rest afterwards
in certain shadowed places, where fishing lines were quietly dropped
over its sides, until now a flat birch basket in its stern was filled
with freshly caught fish.
There had been little conversation during this time, but now Polly
O'Neill, letting her paddle rest for a moment, said to her fellow
oarsman:
"Come, Betty, let us drift for a while. We don't have to get back to
camp just yet, for it will be another two hours probably before our
supposedly unexpected guests arrive, so we will have plenty of time to
help with the preparations, to fry the fish and have Mollie make her
inspired corn dodgers. It will be rather good fun when the Indian
chiefs appear to strike terror to our hospitality, if not to our souls,
for us to be ready and waiting for them, Semper paratus, always
prepared, we can assure them is a Camp Fire girl's motto. But just now
I wish to talk."
Betty's back was turned to the speaker, but her sister, Mollie, sat
facing her midway between the other two seats.
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