When they had finished Mr. Bradley chuckled, but Mrs. Bradley looked grave.
"It happened to be funny," she said. "But it might have been very serious. I hope you were careful after that."
"Were we!" they cried, and Billie added with a laugh: "We locked and double locked all the windows and doors, and if it hadn't been for Chet I would have piled furniture against the doors. But we want to know what you've been doing," she cried, turning to her mother eagerly. "Tell us, please, quick. We've been waiting so long."
Again Mr. Bradley laughed and pinched his impatient young daughter's cheek.
"I think our news can wait till we get to the house," he said.
"But I can't," protested Billie.
"Anybody would think you really expected to hear something," chuckled Mr.
Bradley, who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely over something.
"Oh, please," begged Billie, almost beside herself with impatience by this time—and Chet, in his quiet way, was just as bad. There was something about their mother's and father's manner that told them something was in the wind.
"I'm just dying by inches," went on Billie.
But this time it was Mrs. Bradley who interrupted.