The Girls of Central High in Camp: or, the Old Professor's Secret. Morrison Gertrude W.
“The Girls of Central High; Or, Rivals for All Honors,” the first volume of this series, Laura Belding (“Mother Wit”) was enabled to interest one of the wealthiest men of Centerport in girls’ athletics so that he gave a large sum toward the preparation of a handsome athletic field and gymnasium for Central High.
The second volume is entitled: “The Girls of Central High on Lake Luna,” and the third is “The Girls of Central High at Basket Ball” – the titles of which tell their own story.
“The Girls of Central High on the Stage,” the fourth volume, tells of the writing and first production by her mates of Jess Morse’s successful play, while the fifth of the series is entitled: “The Girls of Central High on Track and Field; Or, Champions of the School League.”
Laura, Jess, Nellie, the Lockwood Twins and Bobby were girls of dissimilar characters (that is, if we count Dora and Dorothy as “one and indivisible” like the Union of the States). Laura’s brother Chetwood, his chum, Lance Darby, Billy Long, and some of the other Central High boys were usually entangled in the girls’ adventures – sufficiently to give spice to the incidents.
So, all considered, it was only reasonable that the girls should have eagerly agreed upon the site of their summer camp – Acorn Island. They knew that the boys would probably have their own camp on one shore or the other of the lake, and within sight of the island.
Chet, who seldom failed to walk home with Jess and carry her books – unless the gymnasium called the girls after the school session – and Lance, who filled like office of faithful squire to Laura, joined the girl chums on this afternoon.
“Got it all planned, have you?” Chet said. “I hear Acorn Island is going to be overrun with a gang of female Indians right after graduation.”
“We have got to go up there to keep watch of you boys,” laughed his sister. “But it’s nice of Bobby’s father to let us camp there.”
“Pull – sheer pull,” grumbled Lance. “We fellows tried our best to get permission to camp on the Island.”
“Well,” said Jess, demurely. “You can come to the island visiting. It will be perfectly proper. My mother says she will go to chaperon us, now that she knows there is a cabin there.”
“And Bobby’s father is going to send a couple of men up from Lumberport to make the cabin tight and fix things up a little for us. We’ll pitch our tents on the knoll right by the cabin,” Laura said, eagerly.
“Pretty spot,” agreed Chet. “We’ll probably have our camp in sight of it and the lake between the south shore and the island is only about two miles broad.”
“Oh! we’ll have a bully time,” his chum agreed.
“Say!” Chet said, suddenly, addressing Lance Darby. “What was professor Dimp saying to you about camping? I heard a word or two. Something about going to the island?”
“Why! I forgot to tell you about that,” returned Lance, quickly, while the two girls cast enquiring glances at each other. “Old Dimple is certainly an odd stick.”
“As odd as Dick’s hat-band,” agreed Chet.
“And no-end forgetful. He’s been worse than ever lately. There certainly is something worrying him.”
“You boys,” laughed Jess.
“Something worse than boys,” Lance returned. “It’s a shame how forgetful he is. Say! did you hear what he did at Mr. Sharp’s the other night?”
“No,” said the others, in chorus.
Lance began to chuckle. Mr. Franklin Sharp was the principal of Central High, and was very much admired by all the pupils; while Professor Dimp, because of his harshness and his queer ways, was the butt of more than a few jokes.
“It was night before last when it rained so hard,” resumed Lance. “He was there going over Latin exercises or something, with the Doctor. Mrs. Sharp asked him to stay all night, when it came on so hard to rain, and the old Prof thanked her and said he would.
“Mr. Sharp went into his office to do something or other and left Old Dimple in the library for a while. The family lost track of him then. Right in the middle of the hardest downpour, about eleven o’clock, the front door bell rang, and Mr. Sharp went to the door.
“There was Old Dimple, under a dripping umbrella, his pants wet to the knees, and his pajamas and toothbrush under his arm–”
“Oh, Lance!” ejaculated Laura. “That is too much to believe.”
“Fact. He’d gone home for his nightclothes. I got it from our hired girl and she got it from Mrs. Sharp’s maid. So, there you have it!”
“But you didn’t tell us what the old Prof was saying to you about camping,” reminded Chet, when the general laugh was over.
“Why! that’s so. And it was odd, too, that he should take any interest in what we fellows were going to do this summer.”
“What about it?” Jess asked.
“He wanted to know if we were going to pitch our camp, too, on Acorn Island? He seemed to know you girls were going there.”
“How odd!” murmured Laura and Jess, together. And the latter added: “Bobby said he seemed mad when he found out we were going to Acorn Island.”
“Well,” drawled Lance, “he seemed sort of relieved when I told him we fellows were going to camp on the mainland.”
“Funny he should trouble his head about us out of school hours at all,” Chet said again.
His sister made no further comment upon the professor’s queer actions. Nevertheless her curiosity was aroused regarding the old instructor’s sudden interest in anything beside Latin exercises and Greek roots.
CHAPTER III
VISITORS’ DAY
The afternoon preceding the closing exercises of Central High was Visitors’ Day at the girls’ gymnasium. This was an entirely different affair from the recent Field Day when Laura Belding and her particular friends had so well distinguished themselves.
On that occasion the general public had been invited. Visitors’ Day might better have been called “Mothers’ Day.” Mrs. Case personally invited all those mothers who had shown little interest, or positive objection, to their daughters’ athletic activities.
For to the Centerport ladies the fact that their daughters were being trained “like prize-ring fighters,” as one good but misled mother had said in a letter to the newspaper, was not only a novel course but was considered of doubtful value.
“And you must come, Mother,” begged Laura, when Mrs. Belding seemed inclined to make excuses. Mrs. Belding was one of the mothers who could not approve of her daughter’s interest in athletics.
“Really, Laura, I am not sure that I should enjoy myself seeing you crawl about those ladders like a spider – or climbing ropes like a sailor – or turning on a trapeze like a monkey – or otherwise making yourself ridiculous.”
“Oh, Mother!” half-laughed Laura. Yet she was a little hurt, too.
“Aw, Mother, don’t sidestep your plain duty,” said Chet, his eyes twinkling.
“Chetwood! You know very well that I do not approve of many of these modern dances. I certainly do not ‘sidestep’”–
“That isn’t a dance, Mother,” giggled Laura.
Her husband chuckled at the other end of the table. “My dear,” he said, suavely, “you should keep up with the times–”
“No, thank you. I have no desire to. Keeping up with the times, as you call it, has made my son speak a language entirely unintelligible to my ear, and has made my daughter an exponent of muscular exercises of which I cannot approve.”
“Pshaw!” said her husband, easily. “Basketball, and running, and rowing, and the exercise