“I’m sure I want you boys to have a good time,” she said, “but it is all so mysterious. What is Uncle Tod doing out there, and if he was needed why couldn’t he have been sent for in the regular way, instead of being summoned by a cabbage leaf and a bullet?”
“That’s the best part of it,” chuckled Rick, “the mystery.”
“You must tell me all about it,” begged Mazie.
“We will,” promised Chot. “When we find it out ourselves.”
At last the preparations were completed, the boys’ bags were packed, Mr. Campbell had had his car inspected and “tuned-up,” and on a fine, sunny morning the little party started for the west.
“Good-bye! Good-bye!” was called again, and in the eyes of Mrs. Dalton and Mrs. Benson were traces of tears.
“Well,” said Mr. Campbell, as he shook hands with Mr. Benson and Mr. Dalton, “I’ll look after the boys all right—don’t worry.”
“I won’t,” said Mr. Dalton, and Chot’s father nodded in assent.
They had fairly started but stopped as Mrs. Dalton cried:
“Here comes the telegraph boy! Maybe there’s a message from Uncle Tod! Wait a minute!”