Calvert that
morning, who replied as promptly and by telegram as her young relative
had requested. The yellow envelope was awaiting Dorothy that evening,
when she came home from "Headquartering" with her guests, and she
opened it eagerly.

But there seemed something wrong with the message. Having read it in
silence once--twice--three times, she crumpled it in her hand and
dashed out of the room scarlet with shame and anger.

CHAPTER IX

HEADQUARTERS

"Well, lads and lassies--or lassies and lads, it's due you to hear all
I've found out concerning Ananias and Sapphira. I don't believe that
those are their real names but I've heard no other. The curious old
man who left them here is, presumably, insane on the subject of
religion. He appeared on the mountain early in the summer, with these
little ones, and preempted that tumble-down cottage over the bluff
beyond our gates. Most of you know it by sight; eh?"

"Yes, indeed! It looks as if it had been thrown over the edge of the
road, just there where it's so steep. Old Griselda, the lodge-keeper's
wife I live with claims it's haunted, and always has been. Hans says
not, except by tramps and such," answered James Barlow.

"Tramps? Are tramps on this mountain? Oh! I don't like that. I'd have
been afraid to come if I'd known that!" protested Molly Breckenridge
with a little shiver.

Of course they all laughed at her and Monty valiantly assured her:

"Don't you worry. I'm here." Then added as an after-thought, "and so
are the other boys."

Laughter came easily that Monday morning and it was Monty's turn to
get his share of it, and he accepted it with great good nature. They
were such a happy company with almost a whole week of unknown
enjoyment before them, and the gravity of Mr. Seth's face did not
affect their own hilarity. Dorothy had confided to Alfaretta that she
had written to Mrs. Calvert for "another hundred dollars" and the
matter was a "secret" between these two.

"You, Alfy dear, because you never had, and likely never will have, a
hundred dollars of your own, may have the privilege of planning what
we will do with mine. That's to prove I love you; and if you plan nice
things--real nice ones, Alfy--I'll spend it just as you want."

Sensible, but not too-sensitive, Alfaretta shook her head, and asked:

"Do you know how to make a hare pie?"

"Why, of course not. How should I? I'm not a cook!"

"First catch your hare! You haven't got your money y