"It was a punishment for making fun of people, wasn’t it, Glen?" she said, lifting her little wet face from his breast. "Serves me right, don’t it, Glen?" "No, dear," he said, tenderly. She tightened her arms about his neck. "You always took care of me, Glen," she said, childishly. His heart beat violently against the little soaking bundle. It was on his lips to say, "I always will, if you’ll only let me, Indiana." But he refrained. Still, as he climbed, he felt he was mounting the goal where his heart could rest. Mrs. Stillwater ran anxiously to meet them. "It’s nothing, Mary," cried Mrs. Bunker, "she was cutting up some of her pranks, and fell into the water." "Just rub her side," said Glen, delivering his burden, "she sprained it a little, falling, and put some dry clothes on her. You feel all right, don’t you, Indiana?" "Yes, Glen; thank you," said Indiana, meekly. Mrs. Bunker often remarked, "Indiana’s always good, when she’s sick." "Now, Indiana," said that lady, after her granddaughter had been duly dried and dressed. "Shall I read you the rest of the letter?" "Yes," said Indiana, lying on a couch before the fire. "’We have enjoyed our tour exceedingly. My nephew has accumulated much information which will prove of scientific value—’" "Oh, he’s that sort, is he?" said Glen, who was seated in a niche by the fire. He rose, knocking the ashes from his pipe, and sauntered out on the balcony. "Jealous already!" said Mrs. Bunker. Indiana laughed, looking into the fire. "Go on with the letter, Grandma Chazy." Glen looked up into the giant balsam. A chipmunk sat on one of the branches, watching him. It was one which he and Indiana had succeeded in making quite tame. He searched in his pocket for a nut. "Chip, chip, chip!" he called, holding out his hand. Indiana’s words echoed in his ears. "You always took care of me, Glen," with all the innocent trust that they conveyed. "She’s known me all her life," he thought, "there’s no going against that. Now these Englishmen will come and spoil everything." He puffed savagely on his pipe, still holding out the nut to the chipmunk, who approached nearer and nearer. "I’ll have to take a back seat, now, I suppose. I guess I’ll get out of the way, altogether, for a little while. That’ll suit me better." He caught sight of Haller, below, planting ferns. "Halloa!" he called. Haller regarded him interrogatively. "Any guides at liberty?" Haller pulled thoughtfully on his pipe. Meanwhile the chipmunk grabbed the nut, and disappeared. "Little rascal," said Glen. "Thar’s Burt." "Tell him I want him for a week or two." The morning of the day when Mrs. Bunker expected her guests, Glen signified his intention of a temporary departure. "Why, you are not going to leave us, Glen?" asked Mrs. Stillwater, innocently. "Oh, I’m just going off for a little sport." "And when will you be back, Glen?" "Oh, I’ll be back in a week or so."