nished.

Kingdon told a straightforward story of all that had happened. Unlike
Marjorie, he was not overcome by emotion, and though somewhat excited
after the experience they had had, he gave a clear and direct account of
it all.

Mrs. Maynard held Marjorie closer as she heard of the danger they had
been in, and Mr. Maynard laid his hand on the shoulder of his tall son,
and heartily exonerated him from all blame in the matter.

"I suppose," King said, a little dubiously, "we ought not to have gone on
to the camp; but Mops,--I mean, we were both thirsty,--and we thought
it was a farmhouse."

"Of course you did," said Mrs. Maynard; "you did nothing wrong whatever."

"I did," said Midget, penitently; "after we passed the horrid basket-man,
King sort of thought he was a gypsy, and he thought we'd better turn
back, but I insisted on going on."

"Nothing of the sort!" exclaimed King. "Mops isn't a bit to blame! I did
think maybe the man was a gypsy,--and I ought to have insisted on going
back."

"Well, well," said Mr. Maynard, "don't strive so hard for the honor of
being to blame. It's all over now, and for the present let's forget it,
while we eat our luncheon, because it might interfere with our digestion.
We're truly thankful to have you back, and we're going to show our
thankfulness by not worrying or lamenting over what might have been."

Mr. Maynard's gaiety, though it was really a little forced, had a good
effect on the others. For, had he taken a melancholy attitude, they were
quite ready to follow suit.

As it was, they all cheered up, and with bright faces followed Mr.
Maynard to the dining-room. Kitty slipped her hand in Marjorie's as they
went along. She had said little while the story was being told, but as
Marjorie well knew, silence with Kitty was always indicative of deep
emotion.

The inn, though modern, was copied after a quaint old plan, and the
low-ceiled, raftered dining-room greatly pleased the children. There were
seats along the wall--something like church pews,--with long tables in
front of them. Mr. Maynard had ordered a dainty and satisfying luncheon,
and Marjorie and King soon found that thrilling experiences improve the
appetite.

Led by Mr. Maynard, the table talk was gay, light, and entertaining; and
though Mrs. Maynard could not quite play up to this key, yet she did her
best, and carefully hid the tremors that shook her as she looked at her
two older children.

"What became of