This depressing view had no effect on Jack.
"We can play truant," he suggested eagerly. "Boys do that when they go to school—at least in books they do. To be sure," he added thoughtfully, "they always come to a bad end and wish they hadn't, but before the end comes, it's jolly."
"Is truant a nice game?" asked Bumps.
Jill's brown eyes began to dance with mirth.
"So we will," she exclaimed. "We'll settle what to do at once. We must save up bits of cake and biscuits, and anything else we can stuff in our pockets, for we must have food."
"But," objected Jack, looking thoughtful, "it's winter, and I think you can only be truants in summer. You always spend a day in the woods and have a kind of picnic, and you must be in the country to do it, and we're in a town."
"What does that matter?" said Jill impatiently. "We'll show how we can truant. I'll think of the most splendid things when I'm in bed to-night."
All her ill temper vanished. Jill's thoughts in bed were the admiration of her brother. His brain was a quick and busy one, but nothing to be compared to Jill's. He laid the foundation for many a mischievous scheme, but it was Jill who took it up and worked it out.
Bumps was at present a nonentity, but she was a sturdy little follower, and would as cheerfully have tried to walk a tight-rope as to eat her dinner, had she seen the others attempt it.
"When shall we start?" pursued Jack—"to-morrow?"