She joined them the first morning of their return and they told her without any undue modesty of their exploits during her absence—of their heroic flights from irate farmers, of their miraculous creation of motor boats and aeroplanes (they omitted any reference to the over-officious law of gravity), of their glorious culinary operations (they omitted the sequel), their Herculean contest with the wasps, their tight-rope walking performance, their (partial) mastery over the brute creation as represented by Etheldrida, their glorious feats of stone throwing and arrow shooting.
“An’ no one what’s run after us has caught us—not once,” ended William proudly and added: “I bet we c’n run faster ’n anybody else in the world.”
Joan smiled upon him fondly. She firmly believed that William could do anything in the world better than any one else in it.
“And what are you going to do to-day?” she said with interest.
That, the expressions of the Outlaws gave her to understand, was the question. The Outlaws had no idea what they were going to do to-day. They were obviously ready for any suggestions from the gentleman who, moralists inform us, specialises in providing occupation for the unoccupied.
“Let’s make another motor boat,” said Henry feebly, but this suggestion was treated with well-deserved contempt. The Outlaws were not in the habit of repeating their efforts. Moreover, the motor boat experiment had not been so successful as to warrant its repetition.
Suddenly Ginger’s face lit up.
“I know!” he said, “let’s show Joan him ... you know, him what we saw last night—with the dead body——”
Joan’s eyes grew round with horror.
“It wasn’t a dead body,” said Douglas impatiently, “it was a skeleton.”