They found the general and the girls in the kitchen putting it in order. "Certainly," said the general with the calmness of one immune from the law. "We will explain." "What?" asked Henrietta, as she drew shut the basket lid and slipped in the catch. "Father used to say that if what you’ve done makes a fight, explanations will only make another," said the Watermelon. While he had the time he realized that he should slip away, but there was a chance that the police, finding their youthful quarry in the society of a general and a reputable and wealthy citizen of New York, could be impressed with the belief that they had made a mistake, and the Watermelon was always ready to take chances. Still, there was no need of running needless risk, and if he could persuade them all to escape with him in the cars, he would do it. Henrietta nodded. Billy was for an instant flight. "We might as well," she explained lucidly, eying her father questioningly. "Not at all," said Bartlett. "Money is all they want." "An explanation," said the general, "will be sufficient. We do not want any tampering with the law." He picked up his hat and started for the door as he would sally forth and demand the surrender of a beaten foe. "But, father," Henrietta’s clear voice made him pause, "what can we explain?" She pushed back her auto veil and gazed from one to the other in gentle deprecation. "How we got in? But they wouldn’t want us to explain that. You see, they can surmise that." The general came back to the table. A little firmness, tempered with a lucid explanation in words of one syllable had always been his method in dealing with the weaker sex. "My dear Henrietta, we can explain why we are here." "Why are we?" asked Henrietta meekly. "Why are we?" demanded the general. "Because we took it for the house of a very old and dear friend." "But as soon as we entered, father, we knew our mistake." "Henrietta," said the general, "I can not argue with you." "No, father," agreed Henrietta. "But when we found out our mistake, why didn’t we leave?" "I can not argue with you, Henrietta," repeated the general. "Money," said Bartlett, "is all they want. They always fine all motorists for breaking speed laws. It becomes a sort of habit with them." "This ain’t breaking the speed laws," warned the Watermelon. "This is house-breaking." "Sir," demanded the general, "do you accuse me, me, of house-breaking?" "The whole damn family," said the Watermelon bruskly. He wanted to slip away quietly, whether the men at the gate were waiting for him alone or for all of them, having a tramp’s dislike for anything that smacked of a possibility of falling into the hands of the law. "This is some different from speed-breaking," he added gloomily. "This is preposterous!" cried the general. "That I, _I_, should be arrested! Why, I refuse to be. No one has a right to arrest me." "If you break into another person’s house, father—" began Henrietta.