"I rather think you were," said Barry in an odd tone. He glanced at her white cheek with its scarlet scratch of a branch. "And I rather think you ought to be asleep now but first you must eat this and drink some more coffee."
Maria Angelina needed no urging. Like a starveling she fell upon that plate of crisp bacon and delicately fried eggs and cleaned it to the last morsel.
"I had but two bites of sweet chocolate for my dinner," she apologized.
"So you were lost before dinner—no wonder you were done in."
Barry filled a very worn-looking little brown pipe with care. "Where were you going, anyway, for your picnic?"
"It was to Old Baldy."
"Old Baldy, eh? Let me see—what trail did you take?"
"On the river path. Then—then we got separated——"
"I see. But it's a fairly clear trail. Did you try another?"
"We—we crossed the river the wrong time, I think, and so got on the wrong mountain. We——"