“Look here, Matlack,” exclaimed Mr. Clyde, “you haven’t got charge of our camp!”
“No, I haven’t,” said the other.
“Well, then, this person can come over and stay with us. We have a little tent that we brought to put over the cooking-stove, and he can sleep in that.”
“Very well,” said Matlack; “if you take him out of this camp I haven’t anything to say—that is, to-night.”
“My dear sir,” said the stranger, rising, and approaching Mr. Clyde, “I accept your offer with pleasure, and thank you most heartily for it. If you had proffered me the hospitality of a palace, I could not be more grateful.”
“All right,” said Clyde; “and I suppose it is time for us to be off, so I will bid you all good-night. Come along, Arthur. Come along, bishop.”
The face of the last-named individual beamed with delight as he heard this appellation, and bidding everybody good-night, and thanking them for the kindness with which he had been treated, he followed the two young men.
The three walked some little distance towards Camp Roy, and then Clyde came running back to speak to Margery, who was now standing by herself watching the young moon descend among the trees. Then Mr. Raybold also stopped and came back to Margery, upon which the bishop stopped and waited for them. In about ten minutes he was joined by the two young men, and the three proceeded to Camp Roy.
“There is one thing, Harriet,” said Mr. Archibald, “which I wish you would speak to Margery about. I don’t want her to get up so early and go out for a morning walk. I find that those young men are also early risers.”
“I will speak to her,” said Mrs. Archibald; “where is she?”