“Ruined?�
“They can’t be!�
“Ruined!� he repeated, with doleful emphasis. “I went by there, just after breakfast, taking our cow to pasture. I saw the gate open——�
“Who left it open?� demanded David.
“And Miss Fanny Morrison’s old cow was there, gorging herself on our corn and peas. Everything is grazed off; trampled down.�
With no more appetites for breakfast, the war gardeners ran to Broad Acres, to see the wreck of their gardens.
“But who left the gate open?� David demanded sternly.
“We were the last ones here,� said Patsy; “and I know we shut it.�
“I was here about dark,� Sweet William confessed bravely; “I came for my sweater. But I shut the gate and I fastened it. I had to climb up on the garden fence to put the hook in the hole.�
“You didn’t put it in,� Patsy said severely. “You let it slip to the side. And our gardens are ruined.�