“Don’t shiver over a theory, Ruth! That’s all it is, for Mr. Gilroy said so before he told his story,” laughed Julie.
“Julie, you’re right! Mr. Gilroy ought to have more sense than to theorize in such a fear-inspiring way,” added Joan, trying to be jocular but feeling creepy.
“I beg your pardon, scouts—I am at fault, I see,” said Mr. Gilroy, politely.
“I say, don’t let’s waste time theorizing and scolding each other, but do let us see that a nice supper is ready for the police when they come up the hill,” said Betty.
“As usual, our Welfare Member is right,” laughed Mrs. Vernon, patting Betty on the head.
But the two detectives failed to come back, and Mr. Gilroy began worrying about them. He thought it foolish for two men to go away like that, while the rascals were still at large.
Then Mrs. Vernon expressed an opinion. “Mr. Gilroy, I will make a motion that you be made to go to bed in the old hut. The spruce tips are made up in there, and you have had a wearing day. We should feel guilty if we had to telegraph a death notice to your friends in New York State.”
“I second the motion!” exclaimed Julie.
“Motion made and seconded that our friend Mr. Gilroy be made to go to bed at once—without his supper,” laughed Joan.
“Don’t take a vote, scouts—I promise to be good!” cried Mr. Gilroy, holding up a hand in protest of the unanimous vote about to follow.