“I’m afraid not to-day, Ralph. I have to do things for Amy. Maybe to-morrow.”
“Too late,” he said, almost gruffly, as he rose and went to the door. “I might have known you would have your own affairs. Never mind, I’ll get Dot!”
Linda went towards him and patted his arm.
“Don’t be cross, Ralph. Think of the child’s parents. How frantic they must be! I’ve just got to do something.”
“Oh, I suppose you’re right. And noble. You always are!”
“I don’t see why you bother with anybody you think so holy and righteous,” remarked Linda, pulling down the corners of her mouth.
“Now children, don’t quarrel,” put in Miss Carlton. “You can blame it on me, Ralph. I refuse to let Linda have any part in this absurd treasure hunt.”
“Then what’s the use of having it?” demanded Ralph.
“Very sensible conclusion,” agreed Miss Carlton. “Give it up, and plan a nice picnic instead.”
“A nice, old-fashioned one! And take our bicycles?”