"I'm so sleepy," yawned Mabel, "that I could sleep on cobblestones."
"We'll leave a big place for you, Mrs. Crane," promised Jean, thoughtfully, "and we'll remember not to lean too hard against the walls."
"Ugh!" exclaimed Marjory, "isn't it queer without sheets!"
"This bed feels good to me," murmured Bettie, drowsily.
"Not a word more from anybody," said Mr. Black, who had donned his fur automobile coat and was crawling like a big shaggy bear into his triangular den. "It's time all honest people were asleep."
"I just wish," murmured Mrs. Crane, stretching herself luxuriously upon her fragrant balsam bed, "that all those mothers could see how safe and comfortable we are. They'll surely worry."
"They surely will," agreed Mr. Black, drowsily, "for it's an unheard-of thing, in Lakeville, for a picnic to stay out all night. It's a calamity, but it can't be helped."
And then, never guessing that to a certain about-to-be-shipwrecked boy their going home at the proper time would have proved a far greater calamity, the castaways closed their eyes.