Brown's hair rose on end. "They have got dogs," he whispered, "a toy bull, a Mexican, a Chow, two Pomms—and, by Jupiter! they've got a marmoset! Look at 'em! Hark! You can hear those unnatural girls laughing! Me for a quick getaway. Come on!"
"They—they may come from some college," faltered Vance; "they may run us down. Shall we trust to our protective colouring and squat close?"
"Do you want to stay here until that miserable Chow comes poking his orange-coloured head into the ferns and laughs at us with his blue tongue?"
Vance wrung his hands, hurling coffee all over Brown in his agonised indecision.
"Good heavens!" he moaned. "I don't want to be married! I can't afford it! Do you think those girls can outrun us?"
"If they can," said Brown, "they'll want me more than I want my liberty. Look out! There's their bat-eared bull! See him sniff! The wretched mutt has winded the bacon! We've got to make a break for it now! Come on! Beat it, son!"
Up out of the covert crashed the two young fellows, and went prancing away through the woods, suit-cases in hand. A chorus of excited yelps and barks greeted the racket they made in their flight; a shrill whistle rang out, then a pretty and excited voice:
"Mark! Quick, Gladys! There are two of them! Mark left!"
"Are they any good?" cried Gladys. "Oh, where are they, dear?"
"I only caught a glimpse of them. They looked like fine ones, in splendid condition. Millicent! Quick, where are you?"