"Zee doesn't cry," wailed Doris.
"She does cry. She not only cries, she bellows. But the slender, white one insisted they were not trespassing because they are preachers and preachers do not trespass. What shall I do with them?"
"I do not know," faltered Doris. "Father is at a wedding, and— Who is the cross old bear, anyhow?"
"Search me," he said blithely. "I think maybe I can bribe him off. At present the girls are seated comfortably on a fallen tree eating apples, the baby has quit bellowing, and the game-keeper is gathering some late roses for them. Holding them in sweet confinement until you guarantee that they are yours. I guess I can fix it up with the old man. Don't worry then, I shall give it my personal attention, and see that your erring and trespassing—for they were trespassing beyond a doubt, manse to the contrary notwithstanding—sisters are restored to the shelter of the fold. Don't worry. Aren't you glad you have a mysterious wizard flitting about to shield your—your—your—I can not think of a word to do them justice— Anyhow, to keep your sanctified but erring family out of jail?"
Then he hung up the receiver before Doris could even thank him.
How agonizingly she waited—and how calmly and confidently they came at last—the calloused little wretches—Zee bearing a bountiful armful of goldenrod and crimson roses, and Treasure laden with luscious fruit.
"Well, for goodness' sake," exclaimed Zee when she saw Doris, white and trembling. "Did you think they could really arrest us—preachers? Impossible! Of course the old reprobate—I use it scripturally, so don't get excited—of course he scared me right at first, I wept a little, very effectively, and Treasure put her arm around me and said she wouldn't let him hurt me. He was very cross. We call him the Corduroy Crab, for short—and because we don't know anything else to call him."
"You might know we would not let them arrest us, Doris," said Treasure gently. "You should not have worried."