ving-room, and repeated that she had been a "bad,
naughty, 'ittle dirl--what did the fellows say at the mill?" Milt and
Claire sat dumpily on the back porch, regarding scenery which featured
of seven tin cans, a broken patent washing-machine, and a rheumatic pear
tree.

"I suppose we ought to start," groaned Claire.

"I have about as much nerve as a rabbit, and as much punch as a bale of
hay," Milt admitted.

"We're like two children that have been playing too long."

"But don't want to go home!"

"Quite! Though I don't think much of your idea of a playhouse--those tin
cans. But it's better than having to be grown-up."

In the midst of which chatter they realized that Mr. Henry B. Boltwood
and Dr. Hooker Beach had come round the corner of the house, and were
gaping at them.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE GRAEL IN A BACK YARD IN YAKIMA

"I must say that you two have chosen a fine pastoral scene!" observed
Mr. Boltwood.

"Hhhhhhhhow did you get here?" gasped Claire.

"Auto 'bus over Blewett Pass, train here from Ellensburg. That
woman--everything all right?"

"Yes, everything's fine. We were just starting back, sir," implored
Milt.

"Huh!"

"Awfully sorry, sir, to take Claire on such a hike----"

"I don't blame you particularly. When that young woman gets an idea into
her head, the rest of us are pawns. Why, even me--she's dragged me all
over the Rocky Mountains. And I will admit, Claire, that it's been good
for me. But I begin to feel human again, and I think it's about time I
took charge. We'll catch the afternoon train for Seattle, Claire. The
trip has been extremely interesting, but I think perhaps we'll call it
enough. Daggett, want to get you to drive the Gomez on to Seattle. Beach
tells me your car is completely wrecked. Lose any money in it?"

"No, sir. Had my roll in the bug. I'll have to go back to it and get
some clothes out of it, though."

"Well, then, will you drive my car in? Charge me anywhere up to fifty
dollars, if you want to----"

"I'd rather not----"

"It's a perfectly honest job--I'd do it, too quick! Or if your
confounded pride won't let you charge anything, bring the car on anyway.
Come, dolly, I have a jitney here, please observe my graceful use of
'jitney,' and I have the bags. We'll hustle to the station now. No! No
arguments, chick!"

On the station platform, Claire and Milt were under the surveillance of
Mr. Boltwood, who was extremely irritable as every two minutes th