"Too bad!" said Fox. "Exemplary young man--especially one who has seen the world and who has as perfect manners as Everett wishes it to be thought that he has--shouldn't go off mad. Very young. It reminds one of your young friend, Spencer. We should expect him to go off mad, shouldn't we, Sally?" Sally chuckled again. "We should." "Well," Fox resumed, "finding that you had been last seen hiking down the street without male escort, Everett having got mad and declined to play and gone home,--it is to be hoped that he had gone home,--I put out after you, lippety-clippety. All the male inhabitants of Whitby seem to think that is their chief end in life." "Oh, Fox," said Sally faintly, "they don't." "They do," Fox insisted; "all except Dick." He laughed. "Speaking of Dick reminds me that I have something to tell you if you don't let me forget it. Well, loping along that way, I came to the historic corner--of what street?" "River Street. How did you happen to come that way?" "Followed my nose. You had gone along this street. So did I. You came to the corner. So did I, and I nearly ran into you." She shivered a little. Fox felt it, and held his arm closer to him. "Are you cold, Sally?" "No." She spoke low. "But I'm glad you came, Fox. I'm very glad." "So am I, for several reasons not to be catalogued at present." They had almost reached Mrs. Stump's. "Oh, I was going to tell you something in connection with Dick. Henrietta's engaged. She wanted me to tell you. So, it is to be presumed, is Dick." "I'm very glad, but I'm not surprised. I don't suppose Henrietta expected me to be." "She didn't mention it, so you don't have to be." "I'll write to her to-night. So that accounts for Dick's mysterious disappearances." "He's been visiting us at your old place, Sally. He was so much interested in seeing your favorite trees and in hearing about you, that Henrietta felt rather jealous." Sally laughed derisively. They were standing at the foot of Mrs. Stump's fine granite steps. Fox was silent for a moment, looking at Sally. "I know," he said at last thoughtfully, "I know where there are some gynesaurus trees near Whitby." Sally's face lighted up. "Could a person climb them, Fox?" "A person about twenty-two years old?" asked Fox. "I should think she might if she is able." "She is able," she returned, nodding emphatically. "Will you tell me where they are?" "Some day," Fox answered, not looking at her, "I will show them to you." CHAPTER XIII