“What were you doing in my barn?”
“Thleeping with the mithe and the bugth,” volunteered Tommy.
“Who be you? You ain’t Gipsies?”
“No. We are from Meadow-Brook, and we are walking home from the Pocono Woods, where we have been spending the summer in camp,” Miss Elting informed the man.
“So, that’s it, hey?”
“Yes, sir. A young woman friend of ours usually meets us at night. She has our equipment in her automobile, but we took the wrong trail to-day, and have lost her. She is over in the other valley waiting for us, I think.”
“Is she a crazy woman with light hair that streams over her shoulders, and does she drive her car as though she was running a race?”
“From your description I think you must have met Miss McCarthy,” answered the guardian, smiling a little. “Have you seen her to-day?”
“I should say I had. She nigh killed a calf of mine this afternoon. I’d just like to get my grip on her once. I’d make her answer to the law.”
“Was your calf in the road, sir?” questioned Harriet.