She reached home just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of her father disappearing up the stairs with a huge box in his arms, while her mother hastily dropped some thing into the drawer of the library table.
"There, I caught both of you," she cried in triumph. "Confess you were hiding things from me, weren't you?"
"I'll answer your questions to-morrow," beamed her father.
"I forgive you both as long as the things are for me," was her calm declaration.
"What is she talking about?" solemnly asked Mr. Dean, with an air of complete mystification.
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!" exclaimed Marjorie, making a rush for him.
"Help, help!" he called feebly. "The battalion has been ambushed and the general captured."
"And held prisoner," added Marjorie, severely. "Unless he informs the second lieutenant what is in a certain big, white box with which he escaped upstairs, he shall be court-martialed."
"Put off the court-martial until to-morrow and perhaps I'll tell," compromised the captured general, throwing his free arm across his lieutenant's shoulder in a most unmilitary manner.
"All right, I'll let you go on parole," returned his daughter. "I'm too sleepy to do guard duty to-night. How I wish you might have seen Charlie's little wagon when we finished it! We had a tree, too."