“Maybe I’m not hungry,” sighed Babe. “Do you see that comfortable white farmhouse? When we go back let’s stop there and have lunch. They’d surely give us bread and milk out of pity for our famished state.”
“All right,” agreed Madeline, “but we’ve got to hurry right along now.”
Just then the path curved sharply, and around the turn they came suddenly upon an elderly gentleman who was sitting on a big stone, fanning himself with his Panama hat.
“My word!” he exclaimed, when he saw the girls. “What in creation are you young ladies doing away off here?”
Babbie was ahead. “Going to Easdale Tarn,” she explained demurely. “This is the right road, isn’t it?”
“Bless me, I don’t know,” said the elderly gentleman. “Never heard of Easdale Tarn till you mentioned it. My doctor told me to take a walk every day, and I chose this road because I happened to see it.”
“It’s rather hilly, isn’t it?” said Babe, who was quite out of breath.
The gentleman jumped up and waved a hand at his stone seat. “Sit down and get rested,” he commanded so peremptorily that Babe obeyed without a word.
“You too.” He pointed at Betty, who sank down beside Babe.
“I admire your energy,” the old gentleman went on briskly. “I always admire energy. But in this case it also excites my curiosity. Why are you all so anxious to go to Easdale Tarn?”