“That remark of yours just reminds me of something else,” he said. “The Banded Seven have put up a job to try.”
“Try to fool the Parson, you mean?” cried Grace.
By way of answer Mark fumbled under his jacket where the girl had noticed a peculiar lump. He drew forth a bit of stone and handed it to her.
“What would you call that?” he asked.
“It looks for all the world like a fossil,” she said.
“Yes,” said Mark. “That’s what we all thought. Dewey found it, and it fooled him. He thought it was the bone of a Megatherium, or one of those outlandish beasts. We were going to give it to the Parson, only I had the luck to recognize it. It’s nothing but a bit of a porcelain jug. And then Dewey suggested that we try it on him, too.”
“I should like to see how it goes with the Parson,” responded Grace, with a laugh. “I wish you’d try it while I’m around.”
The two as they had been talking were gazing across from the piazza in the direction of the summer encampment of the corps. And suddenly the girl gave an exclamation of surprise, as she noticed a tall, long-legged figure leave the camp, and proceed with great strides across the parade ground.
“There he goes now!” cried she.
Mark put his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. The Parson faced about and stared around anxiously; then, as he saw a handkerchief waving to him from the hotel, he turned and strode in that direction. A minute later his solemn face was gazing up at the two.