"P.S.—Peanuts and everything else you can thing of to eat and wear.
"P.S.—Please send the bundle to Mr. Black's office to Mr. Saunders.
"P.S.—A can of condensed milk for Anthony Fitz-Hubert, if they do call the poor dear 'Ambrosial Delight.'
"P.S.—A whole bushel of marshmallows for me. I love you."
Mrs. Slater, a bright old lady with sparkling black eyes, not unlike Henrietta's own, read this letter with very evident enjoyment. Then she went to the telephone.
"Is this Doctor Tucker?" she asked. "Have you heard from Bettie? Oh, haven't you? Well, I have—that is, from Henrietta. They are safe and comfortable; and, I should judge from Henrietta's note, uproariously happy. If you'll call up the Bennetts and Marjory's Aunt Jane, I'll tell Mrs. Mapes. Then I'll drive round, presently, and let you see the note—no, she didn't mention the Whale—I fancy your girls will want as many things as Henrietta does. Don't forget to tell the others—good-by."
This, of course, relieved the anxious minds of the parents; and Doctor Bennett was thoughtful enough to inform Martin that the party was safe.
At ten o'clock the next morning, Dave was given an opportunity to appear before Judge Wilson and tell his story. The delayed notes came to light, and by noon were properly distributed, whereupon there was a grand scurrying in several households; and in Mr. Black's office as well.
"What," asked puzzled Mrs. Bennett, running into Mrs. Tucker's conveniently near house, "did Bettie ask for? This is every word Mabel wrote."
Mrs. Bennett drew a scrap of bark from her blouse. Mrs. Tucker laughed when she read it.