"There, now you have done it!" shouted Crazy Jane McCarthy. "We sleep
on the ground for the rest of the night!" A gust of wind had thrown
Jane off her balance and knocked her down.
"Take hold of a tree," advised Harriet.
"I can't get to one," wailed Margery. "I can't walk."
"Creep," suggested Tommy shrilly.
"Yes, we must seek cover. I fear there will be rain soon," added Miss
Elting. "This is an awful blow. I can feel the spray from the ocean."
"Will the ocean come up here?" questioned Margery apprehensively.
"No. Don't be foolish," answered Harriet. "But we shall get wet, all
the same."
Half walking, half crawling, the Meadow-Brook Girls crept farther back
among the small trees, through which the wind was shrieking and
howling. They saw the campfire lifted from the ground and sent flying
through the air, leaving a trail of starry sparks in its wake.
"There go the tents!" cried Miss Elting.
A medley of shouts and cries of alarm followed hard upon the
guardian's words. A gust more severe than any that had preceded it,
and of longer duration, had rooted up the weakened tent stakes or
broken the guy ropes. A whole street of tents tipped over backward,
leaving their occupants scrambling from their cots, now in the open
air.
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