! Those young reprobates
are gone for good. I know them! The girls can't do the drills alone
and there won't be one piece fit to be given!"

The case was certainly more serious than the minister had at first
thought. They had advertised their entertainment far and wide and the
people were expecting something unique. If Neil Neil would not bring
back his rebel band the whole affair would be a complete failure; he
and Mr. Watson would be the laughing stock of the community and
Splinterin' Andra would be grimly pleased. The young man's face
darkened when he reflected that it was Donald Neil's brother who had
wrought all this mischief. Was that whole family in league against
him? The two looked at each other in dismay.

"Those Neil boys are a bad lot!" Mr. Watson burst forth again.
"They've been the plague of Glenoro school ever since Donald
started---- By Jove!" He started up suddenly, his face aglow, "I have
it! Don can make young Neil do anything. We'll get him to order the
young rascal back and to bring the others with him! Let's hunt him up!"

John Egerton drew back; he knew his relations with Donald Neil had not
improved since Jessie had begun to help with the picnic programme and
he did not at all relish the idea of asking his assistance in his
dilemma. But Mr. Watson was already tearing off impetuously and, as
there seemed no other way out of the difficulty and he could not leave
his friend to bear the burden alone, he reluctantly followed.

A rapid survey of the grove showed that Donald was not at the sports,
nor at the swings. Mr. Egerton noted with satisfaction that he was not
with Jessie. She had put aside her apron and was on one of the big
swings with a youth from the Tenth, her muslin dress swaying in the
breeze, her brown curls flying. But Mr. Watson would not suffer him to
stop one moment to admire the picture.

"He'll be down at the water," he cried, plunging headlong into a little
path which led to the river. "Come along, we've no time to lose--if I
only had my rawhide on that young Turk's back!"

The path they were following dipped suddenly into a little hollow where
it was completely concealed from the picnickers by thick clumps of
cedar and, at a sudden turn in the most secluded part, Mr. Watson
almost ran against the object of their search. He was hurrying up from
the river; his face was flushed, his hair damp and curly; he had
evidently just emerged from the water. He drew b