s never laid hands on me," she
declared, mixing her metaphors in her agitation, "but I feel that it is
a risk I should not take to travel about the country with a company of
men and only an unmarried woman in the party."

Wallie managed to mumble:

"You are as safe here as if you were in a convent, Aunt Lizzie."

It would have seemed from her expression that she preferred not to think
so, however.

"You understand how I feel, don't you?" she pleaded.

"Perfectly! Perfectly!" Wallie replied, too dazed to make any other
answer. He would have been only a little less astounded if the old lady
had announced her intention of opening a dance-hall upon her return to
Prouty.

Aunt Lizzie's desertion, and for such a reason, was the last thing he
had anticipated. It seemed like the final straw laid upon a back already
breaking. He watched her toddle away, and sat down again gloomily.

At the supply-wagon Mr. Hicks was putting the food away, commenting
profanely upon the flies, the heat, the tardiness of Mr. Stott, the
injustice of things in general, and in particular the sordid necessity
which obliged him to occupy this humble position when he was so
eminently fitted to fill a higher one.

He threw a stick at a "camp-robber" that had flown down and taken a
pick at a plate on a stump which contained the lunch he had saved for
Mr. Stott, and his expression was so diabolic that it was the first time
for many days that he had looked natural.

"Red" McGonnigle, with his hat over his face, dozed in the shade of the
bed-wagon. Aunt Lizzie busied herself with preparations for departure.
Miss Eyester perused the testimonials for a patent medicine contained in
a pamphlet left by previous campers. Insects droned, heat waves
shimmered, the horses stood sleeping in their nose-bags. It was a
peaceful noon-day scene, but Macpherson and Company, now sitting on
their heels discussing their prospects, or lack of them, had no eye for
it.

One thought was uppermost, their bubble was punctured, they were worse
than ruined, for their horses and outfit were mortgaged almost up to
their value, and in addition, they had borrowed at the bank, counting on
paying off all their indebtedness when the Park trip was finished.

"I s'pose I can git a job herdin' sheep--they's good money in it--but
I'll be an old man before I can afford to git married, to say nothin' of
the disgrace of it." Pinkey's voice sounded hopeless.

The plaint gave Wallie suc