MARY ROTHERAM.

Jack Rotheram wrote:

DEAR X.,

"My sister Mary has said who I am, but she has not explained how it is I am here. It is because my brother William and I tossed up for it; He called 'Heads,' and it was tails, so I won at once. And then he said 'Threes,' which means the best out of three, and this time he called 'Tails' and it was heads, so that settled the thing absolutely. He was, of course, most frightfully sick about it, but the next time the Avories go out in the caravan they are going to ask him and not me, which will put the thing right. It is a ripping caravan, and I am sure I thank you very much, although it's not mine.

"Yours truly,

"JOHN ILFORD ROTHERAM.

Robert, who was not a sprightly writer, merely described the course they had followed, which we all know. The only news he had to give was at the end: "So far, up to the time of writing, my pedometer registers fifty-six miles; which is, of course, only what I have walked, and not what we have done, for we all take turns to ride for fear of getting too tired and being seedy. The caravan has done altogether one hundred and forty miles, and since we were in it ninety miles exactly."

Horace, after great difficulty, wrote:

DEAR X.,

"I am having a top-hole holiday in the caravan you gave the Avories. I am the Keeper of the Tin-opener.

"Yours truly,

HORACE CAMPBELL.

Hester wrote:

DEAR X.,

"I have long wanted to write to you and tell you that we adore the Slowcoach, which is the name we have given your caravan, and think you were awfully clever to think of it and to make it so complete.

We have not had to buy anything, and the only thing you forgot was the license; but Uncle Christopher remembered. I love walking behind the Slowcoach and seeing the world pa.s.s by. But the evenings are the most alluring, and I like to wake up at night and hear the birds and animals just outside the window, although on the first night I was frightened.

We had one evening with real gipsies, but Janet would not allow me to go inside their caravan, because of fleas and things. But I could see through the door that it was not so attractive as the Slowcoach. I wish this journey would never end, but I fear it has to do so on Tuesday, which draws nearer every moment.

"I am,

"Your grateful and admiring friend,

HESTER MARGARET AVORY.

"P.S.--I hope we shall never know who you are, because anonymous things are so much more exciting.

"P.S. 2.--We have met many motors, and they are always coming up behind us and making us jump and blinding us with dust, but we have never envied them."

Gregory wrote painfully:

DEAR X.,

"Thank you most awfully for the Slowcoach. It is very good and suitable. I am the Keeper of the Corkscrew, and also the Requester of Camping-Grounds.

"Your affectionate

GREGORY BRUCE AVORY.

CHAPTER 20

THE ADVENTURE OF THE LINE OF POETRY

ON the next morning, which was Sunday, Jack hurried through his dressing and washing at a great pace and instantly disappeared. The others were just beginning breakfast when he came rushing up in a state of wild excitement, calling, "Kink! Kink!"

"What is it?" said that leisurely man.

"It's a rabbit!" cried Jack. "I've caught it, and I don't know how to kill it."

"Oh, Jack," said Mary, running up, "don't kill it! Why should it be killed?"

"For supper, of course," said Jack. "Come on, Kink! Quick, or it will get away!"

They all left their breakfast and followed Jack, and when they came up to him he was kneeling over a kicking object.

"Oh, Kink," he said, "do hold it and kill it! How do you do it? The gipsy boy didn't show me properly."

"The gipsy boy?" said Mary.

"Yes, he gave me a wire. See, it's round its neck. That's how I caught him. Do kill him, Kink!"

"Please don't do anything of the kind," said Janet. "We don't want to eat rabbits we catch like that."

"No," said Hester, "please don't kill it. Please let it go."

"What mollycoddles you are!" said Jack. "How do you suppose rabbits are killed, anyway? You eat them all right when they're cooked."

"I couldn't eat a rabbit that I had seen struggling alive," said Janet.

"No," said Mary. "Oh, Jack, please let him go! You've caught him, and that's the great thing; and now be merciful."

Kink still held the struggling creature.

"I vote he's let loose again," said Robert. "I don't want any of him."

"No, and I'm sure I don't," said Gregory; "but wouldn't it be fun to keep him in a hutch?"

"Wild rabbits are no good in hutches," said Kink.