“My dear sir,” said Mr. Archibald, with a solemn visage, “sooner or later Miss Corona Raybold will present herself at this inn on her way home. If you want to know anything about her plan to assist human beings to assert their individualities, it will only be necessary to mention the fact to her.”
“Good-bye, then,” said Peter, shaking hands with Mr. and Mrs. Archibald. “I don’t know what out-of-the-way thing you two will do next, but, whatever it is, I hope it will bring you here.”
CHAPTER XXVII
MRS. PERKENPINE DELIGHTS THE BISHOP
It was the bishop who first appreciated the fact that a certain air of loneliness had descended upon the shore of the lake. He had prepared breakfast at his camp, but as Mr. Clyde did not make his appearance he went to Camp Rob to look for him. There he saw Matlack and his assistant busy in their kitchen tent, and Mrs. Perkenpine was also engaged in culinary matters. He had left Arthur Raybold asleep at Camp Roy, but of the ladies and gentleman who were usually visible at the breakfast-hour at Camp Rob he saw no signs, and he approached Mrs. Perkenpine to inquire for Clyde. At his question the sturdy woman turned and smiled. It was a queer smile, reminding the bishop of the opening and shutting of a farm gate.
“He’s a one-er,” said she. “Do you suppose he could ketch a rabbit, no matter how fast he ran?”
“Come, now,” said the bishop, “he wasn’t trying to do that?”
“He was either doin’ that, or else he was runnin’ away. I seed him early this mornin’—I wasn’t up, but I was lookin’ round—and I thought from the way he was actin’ that he’d set a rabbit-trap and was goin’ to see if he’d caught anything, and pretty soon I seed him runnin’ like Sam Hill, as if his rabbit had got away from him. But perhaps it wasn’t that, and maybe somebody skeered him. Anyway, he’s clean gone.”