We skirted the wood successfully to find that there never could have been a cart-track.
Berry leaned against a wall of stones. "What a picture," he said ecstatically. "The setting sun, the little band, the matron and the maid, mist rising, shadows falling—subject for next year's Academy, 'The Walkers.'"
"Idiot!" said Daphne shortly.
"Do I hear aright?" said Berry.
"I said 'idiot.'"
Berry covered his face with his hat, and begged us to excuse his emotion. Daphne stamped her foot.
"I have an idea," said I.
"If it's one of your usual ones, we don't want it," said Daphne.
"Thank you, dear. We are undoubtedly lost. No, that is not my idea. But, as a would-have-been boy-scout, I recognize in this spot a natural camping-place. That water is close at hand, we know from Scout Berry. Jonah can take the first watch, Berry the second, Jonah the third, and—and so on. My own energy I shall reserve for the dog-watch."
"Oh, stop him, somebody," wailed Daphne.