CHAPTER XI.
A Moonlight Picnic.
They were all jubilant during dinner at the prospect of the moonlight picnic. When they emerged 'The Indiana' waited at the dock, illuminated with colored lanterns. The camp-fire burned brightly as usual. Haller sat on the steps with a lantern, ready to light them down to the lake.
"Just eight," said Stillwater, looking at his watch.
"No hurry," assured Mrs. Bunker. "This is to be an all-night affair."
Haller chuckled.
"Dissipation in the woods—fancy!" remarked Lord Stafford.
The electric lights on the balcony were arranged to give only a subdued glow. Glen played his mandolin softly while coffee was served, his eyes fixed on Lord Canning and Indiana, who were talking in a very gay, lively strain.
"The Pacific coast is a great hunting ground, Lord Stafford," began Stillwater. "I've heard stories about bands of elk that once roamed the San Joaquin Valley in California, living on plains same as the buffaloes—miles away from anything like cover."
"Remarkable!" said Lord Stafford, while Haller listened with open-mouthed surprise.