“Yes, all but Philip.”
“Oh, then Dicky must be with them,” said Margery, consolingly. “Geoffrey always takes him wherever he can.”
So the girls went into the tent to begin their dinner toilet, which consisted in carefully brushing burrs and dust from their pretty dresses, and donning fresh collars and stockings, with low ties of russet leather, which Polly declared belonged only to the stage conception of a camping costume; then, with smoothly brushed hair and bright flower-knots at collar and belt, they looked charming enough to grace any drawing-room in the land.
The horn was blown again at six o’clock, Aunt Truth standing at the entrance of the path which led up the cañon, shading her anxious eyes from the light of the setting sun.—
“Here they come!” she cried, joyously, as the welcome party appeared in sight, guns over shoulder, full game-bags, and Jack and Geoff with a few rabbits and quail hanging over their arms.
The girls rushed out of the tent. Bell took in the whole group with one swift glance, and then turned to her mother, who, like most mothers, believed the worst at once, and grew paler as she asked:
“Papa, where is little Dick?”
“Dick! Why, my dear, he has not been out with us. What do you mean?”
“Are you sure you didn’t take him?” faltered Aunt Truth.
“Of course I am. Good heavens! Doesn’t any one know where the child is?” looking at the frightened group.