"I won't," she answered. "See you later."
As she reached the cool shadows of the little strip of woods she drew a long breath. How delightful it was to hear the rustle of the leaves over her head, and tread upon Nature's green carpet of soft, thick moss. Forgetful of her promise, Grace wandered farther and farther on, gathering the wild flowers as she went. She found plenty of trilliums and violets, and pounced with a cry of delight upon some wild pink honeysuckle just opening. After stripping the bush, she turned into a bypath that led straight up a little hill which rose before her. Scrambling up the hill, Grace reached the top and looked about her. Nestling at the foot of the elevation on the side opposite to the one she had climbed stood a small one-story cottage.
"How funny," thought Grace. "I didn't know there was a house anywhere near here. I'm going down there for a drink of water. I'm awfully thirsty."
Suiting the action to the words, Grace hurried toward the cottage. As she neared it she noticed that the door was wide open. "Some one is at home, that's certain," she said to herself. "I hope they won't be cross at my asking for a drink. Why," she exclaimed, "there's no one living here at all. I think I'll venture in, perhaps there's a well at the back of the house."
Entering, she found that the cottage consisted of but two rooms. The front one was absolutely bare, but the back one contained an old stove, a broken-down sink and a rickety chair. At one side was a good-sized closet. Opening it, Grace found nothing save a dilapidated old coat. Just then she caught the sound of rough voices just outside the cottage.
"I tell ye, Bill, we've got to do the job to-night and hike for the West on that train that goes through Oakdale at 3.15 in the morning," said a voice that was almost a growl.
"I'm wid yer, Jim," answered another voice in correspondingly savage tones. "Even to layin' a few out stiff if dey gets in de way."
Grace listened. She heard heavy footsteps, and, peeping into the room, she saw a burly figure outlined in the front door in the act of entering. She glanced toward the back door. It was closed and fastened with a bolt. If she could slip out that way, she could make a run for the picnic grounds, but she dared not try to pass the two men who had just appeared. The few words of their conversation proved them to be lawless. Noiselessly she slipped into the closet and drew the door almost shut. She would hide until they had gone. They were not likely to linger long in the cottage.
Minute after minute went by, but the intruders showed no signs of leaving.
"What shall I do?" Grace breathed, wringing her hands. "They're real, downright burglars of the worst sort, and they're planning a robbery. It's getting late, too, and the girls will soon be going back. Oh, I must get out of here, but I won't try to go until I find out whose house they're going to rob."