It was about three o’clock and by chance the entire Camp Fire party was at home.
Billy, in his favorite fashion, was lying out in the sunshine on an Indian blanket, while his mother sat on one side of him, sewing, and Vera Lageloff on the other, reading to them both. They had built themselves a second camp fire in order to be a little apart from the rest of the group and not disturb any one by their reading.
For Mrs. Burton was half reclining in a big chair outside her tent, looking over a collection of manuscripts of new plays which had recently been sent to her by her husband. One of them he had chosen to appear in the next season, but he wished her opinion before finally deciding upon it.
As usual, Peggy Webster was close beside her aunt, but, in order not to interrupt, Peggy was engaged in weaving an Indian basket of sweet smelling prairie grasses. Ellen Deal was not far away but, although she held a book in her hand, she was not reading.
The day before, she had returned from her voluntary work of caring for the two invalids. But she did not yet seem to feel entirely at home in her former surroundings and, although she had endeavored to conceal the fact, Mrs. Burton and Peggy had both observed it.
The other girls were engaged in various occupations and Dan was having a nap.
Fortunately Ralph Marshall and Sally Ashton had walked a few yards along the path which led into Sunrise camp. They were first to observe the police and the man who accompanied them, before any member of the camp fire realized their errand.
Ralph had an immediate premonition of their intention, although he failed to appreciate its full seriousness.
The man whom he had seen before spoke first.
“We’ve come to arrest the kid,” he announced. “No wonder you were interested to hear all I had to say about him. I was green. I didn’t get on to the fact that you knew him. But, then, I was a long way from guessing he was mixed up with this bunch of railroad strikers.”