Ike nodded.
Odors of frying bacon and the aroma of coffee were in the air, and, when Grace announced that the guests were to be seated, the summons was quickly answered. Grace had brought a pound of butter with her from the Lodge, a luxury that the Overland girls themselves had not enjoyed since the first day out from Globe.
“I haven’t had such an appetite since I left France,” declared the general.
“Perhaps you have not had so much exercise and fresh air in any one day since then,” suggested Elfreda.
“Possibly that explains it,” replied the officer dryly.
The supper went along merrily, the stock of bacon being considerably depleted when finally the guests refused another helping, and, at Grace’s invitation, rose and strolled over to the cheerful campfire, where they sat down, the men to smoke their pipes and the women to chat.
It was ten o’clock when Colonel Cartwright said he must be getting back to the Lodge. He added that there was dancing there, and invited the Overland girls to go over and dance, but Grace declined for her party, saying that they had a strenuous day ahead of them, as they wished to explore the cliff dwellers’ homes on the morrow. Grace had further plans in mind regarding the explorations, but she said nothing to her guests about it.
“General,” said Grace, calling the officer aside before the colonel and his wife took their leave. “It looks like a storm to-night. I wish you and Mrs. Gordon to remain if you desire to do so, but we may have a wet time of it.”
“An old campaigner like myself doesn’t mind a little thing like a wetting. You should know that.”
“I am not thinking of you, but of Mrs. Gordon and Miss Cartwright.”