remarked on their splendid ability to pull together.

Professor Wheeler raved about Hinpoha's hair. "Let me come and
paint her," he pleaded. "Sitting out on the rocks--with the sun
on that hair--O, what a picture!"

Gently but firmly, Nyoda refused permission. "The girls have
come up here for a summer all by themselves; to learn the joys of
camping out and of doing things together. Such an interruption
would break up the unity of their activities and lessen the
influence of camp."

Professor Wheeler begged and entreated, but in vain; Nyoda stood
her ground. The most she would promise to do was to send him
Hinpoha's address at the close of camp so that he might take the
matter up with her parents.

Nyoda returned home very thoughtful. Hinpoha's dawning beauty
was causing her many thoughtful moments of late. Not that
Hinpoha was in the least vain or self-conscious; on the contrary,
she was the jolliest and most natural girl in the group, and the
least fastidious. That same red hair which Professor Wheeler
raved over was the bane of her existence, and she had more than
once threatened to cut it off when the curls became hopelessly
snarled. Her chief aim in life was to have as much fun as
possible and to get as many others mixed up in it as she could.
Hinpoha, haughty and proud because of her good looks, was a
picture that the imagination balked at. Yet Nyoda could not help
noticing that wherever the group went Hinpoha attracted by far
the most attention from outsiders. All the way down from