"This isn't the spot we picked out, but it's twice as pretty. Big rocks for tables—and everything."
"Especially everything," commented Allen, his eyes twinkling.
"Oh, boy!" cried Roy ecstatically, setting down the hamper that had been his share and beginning to examine its contents without further delay. "Chicken! Ham sandwiches! Biscuits! Jelly—"
"Say, get out of that!" cried Frank, snatching the hamper away with a vigor born of fear. "What kind of manners do you call that?"
"They're as good as yours," retorted the outraged Roy hotly. "Besides, there's another hamper, isn't there?"
"Goodness, they seem to think they can have a whole basket apiece," cried Amy Blackford in dismay.
"Well, I guess they've got another think coming," said Allen, inelegantly, placing himself with outstretched arms before the two precious hampers as though he were guarding a gold mine. "Now let him come who dares. Only over my dead body—"
"Oh, what's the use of spoiling our perfectly good party," complained Grace. "Can't we ever begin to enjoy ourselves but what somebody starts taking all the joy out of life by talking about killing somebody, or something—"
"Never mind, Gracie," Frank soothed her, nibbling a chicken bone with great relish. "You'll get over it. It may take time—"
"Silence," commanded Mollie, raising a pickle fork threateningly. "Else in a twinkling I will split thee to the heart—"