It was an hour later that Mr. Warner and Mr. Lester, riding home, perceived, in a tree in the front garden, the flutter of a blue print frock.
"That looks like Merle," Mr. Warner said. "I wonder if Dick is with her." He gave a short whistle. It was Merle's signal from him, and she responded to it promptly, running to the fence.
"Where's Dick?" queried her father.
"I don't know."
Mr. Warner's face darkened.
"How's that, Merle? I left you to look after him."
"Well, he doesn't want me—he started talking to O'Mara," Merle said sulkily.
"H'm," said her father, giving her a keen look. They rode on.
"For goodness' sake, don't worry about my urchin," said Mr. Lester, laughing. "He's well able to look after himself."
"I assure you I'm more worried about my own," said his friend. "If I could only inculcate some ordinary good manners into her——"