"
Randolph put up his arm and pointed. A roof through a notch between two
sandhills beyond a long range of them, was seen, set high and half hidden
by the spreading limbs of pines. "There it is," he said.
"So close, already?" Such, indeed, it appeared.
"Not so close as it seems. We may just as well step lively."
Cope, with an abundance of free action, was treading along on the very edge
of things, careless of the rough shingle and indifferent to the probability
of wet feet, and swinging his hat as he went. In some such spirit, perhaps,
advanced young Stoutheart to the ogre's castle. He even began to foot it a
little faster.
"Well, I can keep up with you yet," thought Randolph. Aloud, he said:
"You've done very well with your hair. Quite an inspiration to have carried
a comb."
Cope grimaced.
"I trust I'm free to comb myself on Sunday. There are plenty of others to
do it for me through the week."
10
_COPE AT HIS HOUSE PARTY_
"You look as fit as two fiddles," said Medora Phillips, at the top of her
sandhill.
"We are," declared Randolph. "Have the rest of the orchestra arrived?"
"Most of us are here, and the rest will arrive presently.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108