"I--I can walk," she said weakly. Jane threw an arm about her waist and
led her into the nearest tent, followed by Mrs. Livingston and more than
twenty Camp Girls.
"You had better all go to your tents, dry yourselves and get into bed,"
advised the Chief Guardian. "We don't want any of our Camp Girls to become
ill, you know. Miss Burrell will be all right now, I think."
The Camp Girls obeyed reluctantly, though Harriet's chums asked and
received permission to remain with their fellow Meadow-Brook girl. Upon
entering the tent Jane saw the tousled head of Patricia Scott above the
blankets of another girl's col Patricia had crawled into the first cot she
came to.
"Get up, young lady, and give Harriet a chance," ordered Jane.
Patricia merely stared, then her black eyes snapped. She made no move to
rise. Crazy Jane did not repeat her order. Instead she strode up to the
cot, grasped the edge of it and turned it over. Patricia went sprawling.
Harriet had sat down heavily on the floor of the tent as soon as her
friend released her. Jane patted down the quilts and stepping over to her
companion assisted her to the suddenly vacated cot.
"Get in, honey," smiled Jane.
Patricia had scrambled to her feet, her eyes snapping menacingly, her
hands clenched so tightly as to show white ridges at the knuckles.
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