"Good-night, dears; good-night all of you," said Miss Isabel, kissing each happy face twice over, except Jack's, who stood for the dignity of his sex, and was not kissed, even by Miss Isabel—that is, unless no one were looking. "You shall have the post-mark and ink-pad to-morrow afternoon, and I am very grateful to you for letting me join you."
"Grateful! Pooh!" cried Jack, voicing the sentiments of them all. "We couldn't get on without you."
[CHAPTER III.]
A NARROW ESCAPE.
Saturday morning Jack appeared whistling energetically as he triumphantly balanced a box on his left hand, and swung another in his right. He was early, but the three girls were earlier, and had swept the dead leaves from under the apple-tree destined for the office, and had cleared out the hollow which was to hold the box, to the noisy indignation of a woodpecker and his dame who had chosen the tree for a summer residence.
Jack was hailed with a cry of rapture.
"Here's the office!" he shouted, breaking into a run as he saw the little girls; "and this is the drop-box."
So saying he stubbed his toe on one of the many rough places in the orchard, and boy and boxes went headlong in three directions.