"And that way is----?" "Trying to help a little. In the winter I live in New York and teach the boys' clubs on the East Side, and in the summer I am spring-keeper in the mountains." "But isn't your name Mr. Spring-keeper?" asked Lil. "No, my dear, spring-keeping is my occupation. My name is Walter McRae. Here is your candle, and pleasant dreams." "Won't you tell us some more about yourself?" asked Lucy as she took the candle from him. "Another time! Anything so dry as my story will keep." CHAPTER XVII THE SPRING-KEEPER "Isn't this grand?" were the last words both of our girls uttered as they rolled into the bunks that had been made up with fresh, lavender-scented linen. The brigands had captured them certainly and their adventure was complete. The boys were sleeping on the porch in hammocks. Mr. McRae always slept on the porch unless weather drove him in, and Tom Tit had a little room that he loved, where he kept his treasures, all those he did not put in the hole in the mountain. Dawn found the babes in the wood much refreshed. The boys were up and out early, helping Tom Tit milk the cow and chop wood. Mr. McRae had started the cooking of breakfast when Lucy and Lil appeared. "We are so ashamed to be late but we almost slept our heads off," they apologized. "Now let us help!" "All right, set the table and skim the milk and get the butter out of the dairy." The dairy was a cave dug in the side of the mountain where all their food was kept cool in summer and warm in winter. "We shall breakfast on the porch." The girls made all haste and set the table with great care. "Let's get him to tell us all about himself this morning," whispered Lucy. "I'm dying to hear about him. Isn't he romantic?" "I'm crazy about him. Don't you reckon he'll go to the camp with us? Nan would be wild over him." "Yes, but he's ours. We certainly found him." "You sound like Tom Tit," laughed Lil. "I hope the people at the camp won't laugh at poor Tom Tit," said Lucy. "If we could only get there a little ahead and prepare them for his pink pants." She need not have worried, as the wise Mr. McRae knew how to manage Tom Tit so that he discarded his pink pants when he was to go among strangers. "Now, Tom Tit, we must hurry with all of our duties so we can make an early start to walk home with our guests; and we must put on our corduroys for such a long tramp, as the brambles might tear your lovely new trousers." So poor Tom Tit did the outside chores with the help of the boys, while the girls assisted Mr. McRae in the house. Having breakfasted a little after dawn, by seven o'clock they were ready for their ten mile tramp back to the camp. The boys shouldered their guns and the sacks of fox grapes and squirrels. Mr. McRae took with him a small spade while Tom Tit carried a hoe. "I can't help thinking both of them are a bit loony," Skeeter whispered to Lucy. "Why on earth do they want to carry garden tools on a ten mile tramp?"