"Suppose they come back," softly whispered Billy.
Instinctively they all glanced at the door, and Henrietta paused with her hands on the edge of the basket.
The Watermelon laughed. "You ain't worrying because you broke into another's house," said he. "What's fretting you is that you may be found out."
"It's awful," acknowledged Billy. "I feel funny in my stomach and have creeps up my back."
"So have I," said Henrietta, and nodded grimly.
"Do what you please," said Bartlett. "But don't get caught."
"They won't come," said the Watermelon. "They have been gone for quite a time and aren't coming back."
"Ah, my dear Holmes," said Henrietta, "explain your deductions."
"They've been gone long because there is so much dust on everything and the house smells so close. They won't be back to-night because none of the neighbors have been in to leave anything for them to eat and there aren't any chickens in the chicken-house. Alphonse would have stirred 'em up if they had been there."
"Suppose some one passes and sees the light," suggested the general, tempted to the breaking point by the dainty supper so near at hand and the thought of the terrible apology of a meal they would get at the dilapidated hotel they had passed in the village. And above all things, the general loved his meals.