AT THE GREATEST OF FEASTS

It proved a glorious affair, that picnic by the edge of the lake.

Tom and Dan took Clara and Susie out in the canoe to watch them as they fished.

The other four boys fell to with a will, reweaving in new guy ropes and erecting the tent again.

Then firewood was gathered in armfuls and several campfires started.

Just before dark the canoe came in with a cargo of nearly four dozen fish.

These Tom and Dan took to one side and quickly cleaned.  Just as Dick and Dave were beginning to realize with some embarrassment that they had nowhere near enough dishes for such an affair, the man from the launch appeared with two baskets of dishes.  He then brought up three folding tables and proceeded to set them up, next bringing on campstools.  Dr. Bentley had overlooked nothing.  Last of all paper lanterns were strung from the trees, and just at dark these were lighted.

Potatoes were set to boil in a kettle.  Embers were raked down and corn still in the husks was set in the embers and covered up to roast.  Some of the girls sliced more tomatoes than the whole party could eat.  Cucumbers, too, were prepared.

Fish were broiled on grates over the fires.  All was ready just before dark.

Dick gave the launch man a hearty invitation to join them at supper, the latter shaking his head, expressed his thanks and hurried away.

What an appetizing meal it was!  Nothing seemed to have gone wrong.  It was a merry party indeed that sat down around the tables.

Suddenly there came an interruption.  “Camp!  Oh, I say—–­camp!” called a gruff voice from the road.

“Here!” called Dick, rising from the table.  “Who is it?”

“Any girls there?” demanded the same voice.

“Several,” Dick acknowledged.

“Having a picnic, are you?” demanded the strange voice.

“The best ever!” Dick replied heartily.

“Lots of fresh vegetables, too, eh?”

“Ye-es,” Dick assented slowly, and with a peculiar feeling.  He recalled the laughing talk of the girls about “stealing,” and now wondered what was about to happen.

“I guess they’re the girls I want, then,” continued the voice of the unseen speaker.

Dick & Co. felt a swift spasm of uneasiness, for that voice sounded as though it might belong to the law.

A moment later a roughly dressed man moved down into the circle.

“My name is Dobson,” said the new comer, looking hard at the girls.  “I reckon you were in my truck garden this afternoon, weren’t you?”

“Why—–­er——­ye-es,” admitted Laura, the first to find her voice.  She rose and faced Mr. Dobson with a look of budding uneasiness.

“Took lot of my vegetables, didn’t you?” pressed the farmer.

“Ye-es,” faltered Laura, “but-----”

“Excuse me, miss, but there aren’t many kinds of ‘buts’ about a transaction of that kind,” insisted the farmer.