ord.

"The fort's over this way," said he gruffly.

"Show me the package first," insisted Celia.

Bobby drew out the cards, and thrust them into her hands.

"They're for you," he said hastily. "I did them on my printing press."

Celia was delighted and wanted to say so at length, but Bobby had his
sex's aversion to spoken gratitude.

"Come on, see the fort," he insisted.

He showed her the elaborate works and explained their uses, and pointed
out the enemy of stumps charging patiently. Celia caught fire with the
idea at once.

[Illustration: ALMOST--ALMOST DARED HE TO SPEAK]

"I'll make bullets the way they did in the Colonies!" she cried.

"Have you 'Old Times in the Colonies,' too?" asked Bobby eagerly.

They seated themselves and talked of their books. Celia was just
beginning the Alcott series. Bobby had never heard of them, and so they
had to be explained. The children had romped and played games together;
but they had never exchanged such ideas as their years had developed.
For once Bobby forgot the fact of his love, and its delicious pains, and
its need for something which he could not place, in the unselfconscious
joy of intimate communion. He drew close to Celia in spirit; and his
whole being expanded to a glow that warmed him through and through. The
westering sun surprised them with the lateness of the hour. At the hotel
gate Celia left him.

"My, but we had a good time!" said she.

With much trepidation Bobby next day suggested in face of the whole
group that he and Celia should climb the high hill from which Bobby
fondly believed he could see "'most to Redding." To his surprise, and to
the surprise of the others, Celia consented at once. They climbed the
hill in short stages, resting formally every ten feet. Bobby they
called the Guide; while Celia was assigned the duty of announcing the
resting-places. There was a wood-road up the hill, but they preferred
the steep side. Trees shaded it; and undergrowth veiled it. Little open
spaces were guarded mysteriously and jealously by the thickets; little
hot pockets held like cups the warmth of the sun. Birds flashed and
disappeared; squirrels chattered indignantly; chipmunks scurried away.
Occasionally they came to dense shade, and moss, and black shadow, and
low sweet shrubs a few inches high, and the tinkle of a tiny streamlet.
Once a tangle of raspberries in a little clearing fell across their way.
Bobby had never happened on these. They had been