“Nonsense, Mr. Latham,” laughed Ruth. “Our woods are not haunted.”
But Mollie answered never a word.
“Miss Thurston,” called Reginald Latham, as Barbara, who had gone out to change her wet clothes came into the room to say good night to her guests, “may I come up and see you and your friends in the morning?”
Barbara hesitated. She did not object to Reginald Latham as the other girls did; she even thought Ruth, Grace and Mollie were prejudiced against him, but she had an idea that something disagreeable might grow out of a further intimacy.
“I am sorry, Mr. Latham,” she exclaimed politely, “but we have planned to do some target practice in the morning? We are going to stay but a short time up here in the woods, and Mr. Stuart, Ruth’s father, is anxious that we should learn to shoot.”
“But I am a fairly good shot myself,” protested Reginald Latham. “Why can’t I come up and help with the teaching? May I, Miss Stuart?” he asked, turning to Ruth, who much against her will, was obliged to consent.
“Never again shall I allow you to engage in such an unladylike and cruel sport as a coon hunt!” announced Miss Sallie, when the last guest had gone. The girls agreed with her, as the baying of the hounds and the noise from the hunters’ horns at last died away in the distance.