"That's what I've been thinking about."
"You can send the boys home, and we can make room for the girls," suggested Bertha.
"It wouldn't hurt them to get a little wet, my dear, but I am afraid they cannot cross the creeks," replied the father. "I'll walk down to Cedar Creek. I can judge from it whether or not the fords are dangerous."
Mr. Howard's report was most unfavorable. Not even a strong man could pass to the other side of the stream without the risk of his life; it would be rash to let one of the children start home.
"Well, where can they sleep?" asked the wife.
"You take care of the girls," said the farmer. "I'll see that the boys live until morning."
"Oh, father! You are not going to put them up in the dusty garret!" expostulated Bertha.
"You and your mother see to the girls," said Mr. Howard, with a laugh. "I'll give you the whole house for their accommodation," and with these words he went out on the porch, where Father Byrne was talking with the children.
"What are you going to do with this little troop?" asked the priest.
"I went down to examine the creek, and found that it could not be forded. Even if the rain holds up awhile, which I don't think it will do, it will be impossible for any of the children to go home," replied the farmer.