“First find his ears,” jeered Mabel, who had sufficiently recovered from the scare to retaliate.
“Our second adventure,” commented Beatrice. “Wonder what the next will be.”
“Nothing more weird or exciting than luncheon, I guess,” said Patsy. “There! We forgot to pick those oranges we were going to take to Auntie.”
“Let’s go back and get them,” proposed Eleanor.
“Oh, never mind. I dare say there are plenty of oranges at the house,” returned Patsy. “Auntie won’t mind. We’ll go down to the grove to-morrow and pick a whole basketful for her.”
By this time the Wayfarers were nearing the house. Rounding a corner of the building they spied Mr. Carroll some distance down the drive. He was sitting in his car engaged in conversation with a white man who stood beside it. Both men were too far away from the girls for them to be able to make out plainly the stranger’s features. They could tell little about him save that he was tall, slim, dark and roughly dressed.
“That must be the new man,” instantly surmised Patsy.
Pausing, she shaded her eyes with one hand, to shut out the glaring sunlight, and stared curiously at the stranger.
“Can’t tell much about him,” she remarked. “There; he’s started down the drive. Now we’ll find out from Dad who he is.”