Part 39 (1/2)

”Hadn't you better ask Aunt Jane?” said Dorothy softly, yet with a touch of humor.

”Do you mean it?” Bartley's voice was boyishly enthusiastic, like the voice of a chum, a hearty comrade. ”But how about your own folks?”

Dorothy's answer was not given then and there, in words. Nor yet by gesture, nor in any visible way--there being no moon that early in the evening. After a brief interval--or, at least, it seemed brief--they rose and strolled back down the road, the yellow dog padding faithfully at their heels. Presently--

”Hey, Dorry!” came in a shrill voice.

”It's the scout!” exclaimed Bartley, laughing.

”We're coming, Jimmy,” called Dorothy.

”But before we're taken into custody--” said Bartley; and as mentioned before, the moon had not appeared.

Little Jim, astride of the ranch gate, querulously demanded where they had been and why they had not told him they were going somewhere.

”And you left the gate open, and--everything!” concluded Jimmy.

”We just went for a walk,” said Dorothy.

”What's the use of walkin' up the old road in the dark?” queried Jimmy.

”You can't see anything.”

”What do you say to a rabbit hunt to-morrow morning early?” asked Bartley.