o Pengwithen Cove?'

The boys were delighted with the idea and ran off to get ready, so that
they did not see Mrs. Trehane set to work busily to cut sandwiches.

'What is that hamper thing you are carrying?' asked Jack of his father
as they were starting.

'Our lunch, Jack; and, knowing who packed it, I can promise we shall not
do badly.'

'But you always used to give us lunch at the hotel, Father,' Jack said.

'Ah, but we have learnt a trick worth two of that, have we not, my
dear?' and Mr. Trehane smiled at his wife.

'It is so much jollier to have our lunch close to the sea,' she said,
'instead of in a stuffy room.'

'And who is going to carry that horrid, great basket, I should like to
know?' muttered Jack, as he rode on ahead with Walter. 'That is one of
the mean dodges I told you about. She thinks it will save the expense of
a lunch at the hotel.'

The white-crested waves were rolling in over the blue waters of the bay
as the Trehanes and Walter followed the cliff path towards the Cove for
which they were bound. Jack loitered behind the others, for it was his
turn to carry the lunch. Presently a cry from him made them look round,
and what should they see but the precious picnic-basket rolling down the
sloping turf which edged the cliff! As they watched, it went over with a
loud report of bursting lemonade bottles, and the contents were dashed
into fragments on the rocks beneath.

'How could you be so careless, Jack?' his father said in tones of
vexation; but as he never dreamed it was anything but an accident, he
did not say much.

They were obliged to return to the hotel for a meal, and Walter shrewdly
suspected this was the result Jack had worked for.

However, the lunch was not a success. A crowd of excursionists had swept
nearly everything in the shape of food before them, and left very
little for any one who came after.

'Oh, dear,' sighed Mrs. Trehane, 'when I think of the nice ham
sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs, the lovely meat patties and raspberry
puffs, which are now floating away to sea, I do feel sad!'

'What an idiot you have been!' whispered Walter to Jack, and the latter
was inclined to believe his friend spoke truly.

When Mr. Trehane pulled out some money in order to pay the bill, his
wife gave another sigh.

'This is worse than the cold mutton, is it not?' he asked, laughing.

Then she laughed too and held up a warning finger.

'Hush!' she whispered, 'you must not let out my