The children rose from the table, and rushed out into the hall, where a fresh dispute, though of a friendly nature, occurred between Ida and Guy with regard to the ownership of a certain book-strap. There was a good deal of racing up and down stairs, and at length the bang of the front door proclaimed the fact that they had all started—the boys for the big school in the centre of the town, and the girls for one a little nearer home.
"It seems strange that both Ida and Elsie should have had such queer fancies last night," said Mrs. Ormond to her husband as they remained seated together at the breakfast table.
"What was it? I didn't quite catch what they were saying."
"Why, Elsie says she was awakened by hearing the grindstone turning in the tool-house. She went down to see if it was Brian sharpening his chisels, but she got frightened, so returned and woke Ida. Then Ida declares that, when she went across to the boys' room to see if they were awake, Bob was in the house, and came running up the stairs to her; but Jane says that, when they came down this morning, Bob was outside in his kennel."
"I expect Ida was more than half asleep," answered her father, "and thought she saw the dog. I know I've still gone on dreaming when I've been roused up suddenly out of a sound sleep. What Elsie heard was, no doubt, the wind."
"But she says there was a light in the tool-house."
"Oh, nothing but the reflection of the moonlight on the glass, you may depend. If there had been any one about who had no business there, the dog would have barked."
The boys were rather late in getting back to dinner, and when they arrived they were in a hurry to get the meal over and be off again. Brian had to change and walk to the football ground, while Guy intended to go with him and watch the game.
"Whom is the match against?" asked Mrs. Ormond.
"Against Newford College, mother," was the reply. "We ought to lick 'em this time. We've got a ripping strong team."