“I accept your invitation with pleasure,” replied the stranger. “It’s most kind of you, I am sure. I’m hungry as a wolf, and it’s rather far from—er, supplies.”
Without the slightest embarrassment, he sat down in the group of boys and girls and joined in the talk and laughter so naturally, that presently they quite forgot he was a stranger at all.
He had a talent, this ingratiating individual, of making all of them talk a great deal, while he listened always with that amused, quizzical expression which Nancy confided to Elinor’s private ear “was fascinating.” He ate a great deal and enjoyed himself thoroughly. The sizzling, delicious combination of beefsteak and other things, he pronounced the most appetizing dish he had tasted in years. He smacked his lips over Elinor’s tea and asked for a second cup. He joked with Nancy, smiled gravely into Mary’s serious dark eyes, took many long searching glances at Billie when she wasn’t looking, and started each boy, even silent Charlie, on his favorite hobby.
Before that famous luncheon was over, it really seemed that they were entertaining an angel unawares.
CHAPTER XXII.—THE LAST OF THE HOUSE OF TROUBLES.
At last, as the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, everybody lent a hand at clearing up the lunch things, while the stranger in the khaki trousers sat under a tree smoking a short black pipe, and watched them thoughtfully.
“I smell burning,” announced Charlie, suddenly, sniffing the air like a hunting dog.
“It’s your own fire, midget,” replied Percy.
“No, no, it’s on the breeze. There, look at that.”
As he spoke a spark fell at his feet, then another and another.