"Somebody may steal it," she suggested.
"Not if we guard it. One or both of us ought to sit by it until we can get it into the barn."
Juliet wiped her eyes. "That's right. We'll guard it all night to-night and while we're guarding it, we'll talk it all over and decide what to do."
The dinner of unwholesome delicacies which they had planned as the last feature of the day's celebration was hesitatingly renounced. "We don't deserve to have anything at all to eat," said Juliet. "What is it that they feed prisoners on?"
"Bread and water—black bread?"
"Where could we get black bread?"
"I don't know. I never saw any."
After discussing a penitential menu for some time, they finally decided to live upon mush and milk for the present, and, if Allison should die, forever. "We can warm it in the winter," said Romeo, "and it won't be so bad."
When their frugal repast was finished, they instinctively changed their festal garments for the sober attire of every day. Romeo brought in two lanterns and Juliet pasted red tissue paper around them, so that they might serve as warning signals of the wreck. At sunset, they set forth, each with a blanket and a lantern to do sentry duty by the capsized car.
"Oughtn't we to have a dog or two?" queried Romeo, as they trudged down the road. "Watchmen always have dogs."