“Lottie for captain of the kidnapped,” suggested Cora. “Now, Lottie, when it gets good and dark you are to go out under the biggest tree on the place and await your captors.”
“Hello there! Anybody home?”
“The boys!” gasped Belle. “Now what about having wasted our time? Come in!”
“Nice of you to ask us,” groaned Jack. “Say, we are dead and buried, and the will is now being read. Somebody broke into our larder and stole the grub. Have you any to put out at interest?”
“Stole your eatables!” exclaimed Marita.
“Well, you could scarcely call it that,” replied Jack, espying an undamaged orange on the window sill, and making a lunge for it. “We did intend to eat the stuff, but it was just plain grub—not eatables.”
“Jack, haven’t you boys had your supper?” asked Cora.
“We are on a diet,” explained Jack. “Wallie had the crackers, Ed nabbed the dried beef—he’s the biggest and needs the most, you know—and I got the pickles. Then we followed directions, and each drank three sips of pure spring water. But the trouble arose when Dray came in. He said he was to have milk—doctor’s orders. We didn’t have any but ‘pretense’ milk, so Dray is now out looking for a cow.”
Just then the sound of approaching footsteps was heard.
“They come!” announced Jack. “I was merely the herald. Have you made out the menu, Cora dear?”