ing
that they were getting away from unpleasant circumstances, and in a
perfectly original and independent fashion, gave them all high spirits.
Even Mrs. Archibald, whose sleepless night might have been supposed to
interfere with this morning walk, declared herself as fresh as a lark, and
stated that she knew now why a lark or any other thing that got up early
in the morning should be fresh.

They had not left the spring far behind them when they heard a rustling in
the woods to the right of the road, and the next moment there sprang out
into the open, not fifty feet in front of them, a full-grown red deer.
They were so startled by this apparition that they all stopped as if the
beautiful creature had been a lion in their path. For an instant it turned
its great brown eyes upon them, and then with two bounds it plunged into
the underbrush on the other side of the road. Mrs. Archibald and Margery
had never before seen a deer in the woods.

The young girl clapped her hands. "It all reminds me of my first night at
the opera!" she cried.

Two or three times they rested, and they never walked rapidly, so it was
after five o'clock when the little party emerged into the open country and
approached the inn. Not a soul was visible about the premises, but as they
knew that some one soon would be stirring, they seated themselves in three
arm-chairs on the wide piazza to rest and wait.

Peter Sadler was an early riser, and when the front hall door was open he
appeared thereat, rolling his wheeled chair out upon the piazza with a
bump--though not with very much of a bump, for the house was built to suit
him and his chair. But he did not take his usual morning roll upon the
piazza, for, turning his head, he beheld a gentleman and two ladies fast
asleep in three great wicker chairs.

"Upon my soul!" he exclaimed. "If they ain't the Camp Robbers!" At this
exclamation they all awoke.

Ten minutes after that the tale had been told, and if the right arm of Mr.
Sadler's chair had not been strong and heavy it would have been shivered
into splinters.

"As usual," cried the stalwart Peter, "the wrong people ran away. If I had
seen that bicycle man and his party come running out of the woods, I
should have been much better satisfied, and I should have thought you had
more spirit in you, sir, than I gave you credit for."

"Oh, you mistake my husband altogether!" cried Mrs. Archibald. "The
trouble with him is that he has too much spirit