“As usual,” cried the stalwart Peter, “the wrong people ran away. If I had seen that bicycle man and his party come running out of the woods, I should have been much better satisfied, and I should have thought you had more spirit in you, sir, than I gave you credit for.”
“Oh, you mistake my husband altogether!” cried Mrs. Archibald. “The trouble with him is that he has too much spirit, and that is the reason I brought him away.”
“And there is another thing,” exclaimed Margery. “You should not say Mr. Raybold and his party. He was the only one of them who behaved badly.”
“That is true,” said Mrs. Archibald. “His sister is somewhat obtrusive, but she is a lady, gentle and polite, and it would have been very painful to her and as painful to us had it been necessary forcibly to eject her brother from our camp. It was to avoid all this that we—”
“Eloped,” interjected Mr. Archibald.
“‘IF THEY AIN’T THE CAMP ROBBERS!’”
The good Peter laughed. “Perhaps you are right,” said he. “But I shall have a word with that bicycle fellow when he comes this way. You are an original party, if there ever was one. First you go on somebody else’s wedding-journey, and then you elope in the middle of the night, and now the best thing you can do is to go to bed. You can have a good sleep and a nine-o’clock breakfast, and I do not see why you should leave here for two or three days.”