Her friend agreed to this threat. Monty scratched his head and looked troubled. Henrietta grinned wickedly.
“You better come along, Monty. That man’s a flying man. We seen him once. And his plane fell over on Miss Jessie’s place.”
“Mark Stratford!” ejaculated Amy Drew. “I never——”
“That’s who it is,” said Henrietta.
“Ha!” cried Belle Ringold, in her sneering way. “I know what Mark Stratford wants of you, then, Monty Shannon. You’d better not go home.”
But Monty was already walking down toward the lake. He waved his hand at his late taskmistress and said:
“If you can’t wait till I get back, get somebody else to string the aerial.”
He hopped into the canoe and seized a paddle, pushing it out from the landing, leaving the interested Henrietta behind.
“Well, of all things!” gasped Belle, in angry amazement. “How dare he desert us in that way?”
“He ain’t very daring, Miss Belle,” said little Henrietta cheerfully. “You couldn’t do nothin’ to Montmorency.”