“We didn’t mean to be gone so long, but we got lost in Cherry Hill Park—”
“Cherry Hill Park! What in the world started you up there this hot night?”
“Why, we went up on Oregon Avenue, and then thought we’d just go over to the park, and we got tired,—or I did,—and we sat down on a bench and went to sleep—both of us!” Polly giggled at the remembrance. “Then we couldn’t tell which way to go, and Cornelius came along, and he had to do an errand for his mother, and we waited a good while for him—and that’s why we didn’t come before.”
“Well, you have had a time! You’d better run right home, David, for your mother is worried. She supposed you were over here, and came to see what kept you.”
“Is Uncle David home?” questioned the boy tentatively.
“I think she said not.”
Polly’s eyes and David’s met in tacit understanding—the secret was Colonel Gresham’s, and not to be spoken of. Then the boy whirled towards home.
“Good-night!” called Polly, and to the accompaniment of fleeting footfalls came the answering “Good-night!”