was a very heavy bench and he was rather a frail old man. But at the time
they were too interested in this unusual place and their rather
extraordinary host to think of anything very rational.

However, they seated themselves dutifully in a row upon the bench, "for
all the world like an orphan asylum out for an airing," as Mollie said
later, and gratefully stretched out their sodden shoes to the blaze.

They were cold and they were wet and they were fast becoming very hungry,
all of which might have been expected to form a very good reason why they
should have been miserable. But they weren't miserable--not at all. To the
Outdoor Girls the thrill of an adventure always more than counterbalanced
the possible discomforts attending it.

Their host started to draw up the one chair in the room, hesitated a
moment then, as though he had just thought of something, turned and darted
through the door, closing it with a little click behind him.

For the space of half a second the girls looked after him. Then they
looked at each other. Then they drew a long breath and let loose the flood
of curious questions which had been struggling for expression for the past
twenty minutes.

"Well, isn't this a lark?" cried Mollie, her eyes dancing, "Half an hour
ago we were awfully bored, and now look at us."

"Yes, look at us," said Grace with a little sniff. "I'm sure we're not
very much to look at right now with our hair wet, and our clothes--"

"Oh, for goodness' sake, who cares about such things?" cried Betty gaily.