“Ah, Logan, is that you?” It was “J. P.’s” voice. The two boys retraced their steps and halted at the doorway.
“Yes, sir,” replied Jimmy brightly.
“And Baker, too, I see. Well, young gentlemen, where have you been? We missed your bright and smiling faces at supper tonight.”
Mr. Russell seemed to be in a pleasant mood, though one couldn’t always be certain from appearances, and so Jimmy, as spokesman, smiled his most winning smile and answered truthfully: “In the mud, sir.”
“Indeed? Yes, I see. All the evidence tends to corroborate your quaint statement. But why in the mud, Logan?”
Jimmy hesitated an instant and then decided to make a clean breast of the matter. Mr. Russell heard him through, smiling pleasantly. And when the tale was told he said: “A most interesting narrative, Logan, on my word. You show a nice sense of dramatic construction. But really, boys, I’m rather afraid trouble will come of this. You know there’s a rule about being in bounds by six o’clock on Sundays, eh? By the way, you brought your fellow miscreants back with you, I trust? I refer to Ordway and Blake.”
“Yes, sir; they’re back,” replied Jimmy dispiritedly. Mr. Russell’s tone now wasn’t so reassuring.
“And they, too, were—ah—in the mud?”
Jimmy grinned. “You’d think so if you saw them! They fell right in a ditch once!”
“Really?” Mr. Russell smiled quite broadly. “Well, I suppose it’s all a grand lark with you youngsters, eh? Dear, dear, what a thing it is to be young! Get those wet things off, boys, and stay in your room for the rest of the evening. Possibly——” He caught himself up. Then: “We’ll hope for the best. Hm! Better look to your ways for awhile, though, both of you. How about that little matter we spoke of recently, Baker? Any—ah—any developments?”