In they filed in formidable line.

"He shan't have them!" cried Lilian, struggling to prevent the last
instalment going into his pocket. "He has my thimble and scissors
already. Here," to the others, "your chief is stealing. But he can't
have my spoons. You--" catching hold of the nearest one-- "Jack! Ben!
Harry!" (for as soon as she got one good look at the faces of her
callers she knew them), "Jack--Ben--Harry! hold him! He's just a common
thief!"

A roar of laughter followed.

"Good for you, Lilian!" cried Jack, flinging off his hat and blanket,
and leaping on the offender's shoulders to pinion his arms. "He shan't
have your spoons, Lilian. But allow me to present to you our cousin,
Harold Wyman, just arrived from Wyoming. We found him at Uncle Abner's,
come to spend New Year's with us."

Lilian, who had captured part of the spoons, blushed and dropped them on
the floor.

"It's real mean of you to scare me so," she stammered. "Mother, did you
know it was the boys?"

"Not until Jamie winked at me from the floor, and then it was all so
ridiculously clear I could not help laughing aloud. I saw you were well
over your first fright, so I thought I'd let the boys carry out their
fun."

"My, but I'm hot!" ejaculated Ben. "Sis has good grit, hasn't she