Since it was manifestly impossible for Wallie to get to his feet as politeness demanded, and it seemed ridiculous to sit up in bed and converse with a lady he knew so slightly, it appeared that the best thing to do in the circ.u.mstances was to remain as he was, prostrate and helpless, and this he did--to take such a dressing down as made him tingle.

Aiming her finger at him, Miss Mercy declared that deliberately, wilfully, maliciously, "Red" McGonnigle had set her tent on a _hump_.

More than that, he had cut down an alder, leaving some three or four sharp p.r.o.ngs over which he had spread her blankets. She would have been as comfortable on the teeth of a hay-rake, and had not even dozed in consequence. With her own ears she had heard "Red" McGonnigle threaten to "fix" her, and he had done it. If he was not discharged she would return to Prouty at the first opportunity. This was final.

Wallie argued vainly that it was an accident, that "Red" was altogether too chivalrous to take such a low-down revenge upon a lady, and explained that in any event it would be impossible to dispense with his services at this juncture. He declared that he regretted the matter deeply and promised to prevent a recurrence.

But Miss Mercy was adamant, and intimated that Wallie was in sympathy with his hireling if not in actual "cahoots" with him.

Wallie realized that it would be impossible to resent the implication with proper dignity while lying on the flat of his back looking up at his accuser, so he said nothing, whereupon Miss Mercy flung at him as she departed:

"I intend to ask a ride back to Prouty from the first pa.s.serby, and I shall _knock_ you and your ranch at every opportunity!"

She returned to her teepee to complete her toilette while Wallie took his boots from under his pillow and drew them on glumly, feeling that much of the joy had been taken from what promised to be a perfect morning.

Mr. Hicks, too, started breakfast in a mood that was clearly melancholy, for as he rattled the pots and pans Wallie heard him reciting:

"And when my time comes, let me go--not like the galley slave at night scourged to his dungeon--but like one sustained and soothed by an unfaltering trust----" He stopped suddenly, and then in a voice that chilled Wallie's blood he shouted:

"Jumping Je-hoshaphat! Git out o' that grub-box!"

He had caught Mrs. Budlong in the act of spreading jam on a cracker.

"How dare you speak so to me?" she demanded, indignantly.

For answer, Mr. Hicks replied autocratically:

"You ought to know by this time that I don't allow dudes snooping around when I'm cooking."

"You are insulting--I shall report you."

Mr. Hicks laughed mockingly:

"You do that and see what it gets you."

The cook quite evidently knew his power, for when Mrs. Budlong carried out her threat Wallie could only reply that he dared not antagonize Hicks, since to replace him would cause delay, inconvenience, and additional expense to everybody.

Mrs. Budlong rested all her chins upon her cameo breastpin and received the explanation coldly.

"Verra well," she said, incisively, "verra, verra well! I shall buy jam and crackers at the first station, Mr. Macpherson, and carry them with me."

Wallie had no heart to say more than:

"Indeed, Mrs. Budlong, I am so sorry----"

But she was already on the way to report the controversy to her husband.

When they had bathed their faces and hands in the river the evening before someone had referred to it poetically as "Nature's wash-basin."

Wallie, seeing Mrs. Appel with her soap and towel on the way to "Nature's wash-basin," was inspired by some evil spirit to inquire how she had rested.

"Rested!" she hissed at him. "Who could rest, to say nothing of sleeping, within six blocks of Mr. Penrose? A man who snores as he does should not be permitted to have his tent among human beings. If it is ever placed near mine again, Wallie, I shall insist upon having it removed if it is midnight. Knowing the trouble he has had everywhere, I am surprised at your not being more considerate."

"To-night I will attend to it. I regret very much----" Wallie mumbled.

Mrs. J. Harry Stott beckoned him aside as breakfast was being placed on the table.

Mrs. Stott had a carefully cultivated misp.r.o.nunciation of great elegance when she wished to be impressive, and as soon as she began Wallie realized that something portentous was about to be imparted to him. Even the way she raised her eyebrows made him warm all over with a sense of guilt of something of which he was ignorant.

"You will excuse me if I speak frankly?"

Wallie gulped, wondering fearfully what she knew and how much.

She went on in a voice which seemed to have h.o.a.rfrost on it:

"But the fact is, I am not in the habit of eating with the _help_."

Wallie felt relief surge over him. His face cleared and he laughed light-heartedly.

"I know that, of course, Mrs. Stott, but out here it is different.

Camping is particularly democratic. It has never occurred to 'Red' or Hicks that they are not welcome at the table, and I fear that they would be greatly offended if I should suggest----"

Mrs. Stott drew herself up haughtily.

"That is no concern of mine, Wallie. It is a matter of principle with me to keep servants in their places. I am not a sn.o.b, but----"

"Sh-ss-sh!" Wallie looked over his shoulder in Hicks' direction.

In clarion tones she continued:

"I cannot consent to letting down the barriers even in these unconventional surroundings. You can adjust the matter to suit yourself, but I ab-so-lute-ly refuse to sit cheek by jowl with the cook and McGonnigle!"

Wallie grew solemn, as well he might, for along with the tact of a diplomat to a Balkan state it required the courage of a lion to convey the information to one of Hicks' violent disposition that he was not fit to sit at table with the wife of the rising young attorney.

It weighed on his mind through breakfast, and he was not made more comfortable by the fact that "Red," stimulated to effervescence by so large an audience, tossed off his _bon-mots_ in a steady stream, unconscious that his wit was not a treat to all who heard him and that his presence was regarded as anything but highly desirable, while Mr.

Hicks brought his tin-plate and, by chance purely, elbowed himself a place beside Mrs. Stott with the greatest a.s.surance.

Wallie decided to postpone the delicate talk of dropping a hint to Mr.

Hicks until later in the day, as he had plenty to engage his attention with Miss Mercy's departure confronting him.

"Red" denied the crime with which he was charged with a face of preternatural innocence, declaring that he was shocked that any one should attribute to him such a heinous offence as purposely leaving four sharp alder p.r.o.ngs under a lady's blankets. n.o.body--bar none--had a greater respect for the s.e.x than "Red" McGonnigle!

But Miss Mercy was not to be pacified by apologies however abject, or explanations however convincing. Implacable, and maintaining a haughty silence, she packed her suitcase and put an outing flannel nightgown--with a nap so long that it looked like a fur garment--in a fishnet bag. Having made stiff adieux to the party, she went and sat down on a rock by the roadside to await some pa.s.serby who would take her to Prouty.

She quite enjoyed herself for a time, thinking what a strong character she was, and how independent. A weaker woman would have allowed herself to be persuaded to overlook the incident, but she was of different metal. For nearly an hour this thought gave her great satisfaction, but, gradually, the monotony began to pall and she had a growing feeling of resentment that n.o.body missed her. It seemed deceitful, after making such an ado over her decision to leave them, to resign themselves so quickly to her absence. Mattie Gaskett might come and renew her entreaties for her to return, or, at least, keep her company!

The occasional bursts of laughter that reached her were like personal affronts and, finally, she included everybody in her indignation at "Red" McGonnigle. But, as the time dragged, her mood changed perceptibly. Though she would not admit it in her secret heart, she wished that someone would come and coax her to reconsider. From this stage, while the tents were being dismantled and packed into the bed-wagon accompanied by much merriment, she came to a point where she tried to think of some excuse that would enable her to return without seeming to make any concession.

As it happened, the only person who gave Miss Mercy any thought as she waited forlornly by the roadside was Aunt Lizzie Philbrick. Although she and Miss Mercy had not been speaking since the episode of the b.u.t.terfly, her tender conscience was troubled that she had not said good-bye to her. The more she thought about it the more strongly it urged her to be forgiving and magnanimous to the extent of wishing Miss Mercy a pleasant journey. With this purpose in view Aunt Lizzie left the others and started for the roadside. If she had not been otherwise engaged at the moment, Miss Mercy might have seen Aunt Lizzie's white sailor hat bobbing above the intervening bushes, but she was intent on learning the cause of a rustling she had heard in the leaves behind her. It was a snake, undoubtedly, and it flashed through Miss Mercy's mind that here was her opportunity not only to return to camp but to go back a heroine.

She set her fishnet bag on the stump she vacated and provided herself with a cudgel before starting to investigate. Advancing cautiously, she saw a bunch of tall gra.s.s wave in a suspicious manner. She smote the clump with her cudgel, and a large, warty toad jumped out into the open.