Their first duty had been to clean out the cave.

“We can pretend that no one ever has lived here since the days when everybody lived in caves,” said Ethel Blue, who was always pretending something unusual.  “We must be the first people to discover it.”

“I dare say we are,” replied Dorothy.

“Uhuh,” murmured Ethel Brown, a sound which meant a negative reply.  “Here’s an old tin can, so we aren’t the very first.”

“It may have been brought here by a wolf,” suggested Ethel Blue.

“Perhaps it was a werwolf,” suggested Dorothy.

“What’s that?”

“A man turned by magic into a wolf but keeping his human feelings.  The more I think of it the more I’m sure that it was a werwolf that brought the can here, because, having human feelings, he would know about cans and what they had in them, and being a wolf he would carry it to his lair or den or whatever they call it, to devour it.”

“Really, Dorothy, you make me uncomfortable!” exclaimed Ethel Blue.

“That may be one down there in the field now,” continued Dorothy, enjoying her make-believe.

The Ethels turned and gazed, each with an armful of trash that she had brought out of the cave.  There was, in truth, a figure down in the field beside the brook, and he was leaning over and thrusting a stick into the ground and examining it closely when he drew it out.

“That can’t be a werwolf,” remonstrated Ethel Brown.  “That’s a man.”

“Perhaps in the twentieth century wolves turn into men instead of men turning into wolves,” suggested Dorothy.  “This may be a wolf with a man’s shape but keeping the feelings of a wolf, instead of the other way around.”

“Don’t, Dorothy!” remonstrated Ethel Blue again.  “He does look like a horrid sort of man, doesn’t he?”

They all looked at him and wondered what he could be doing in the Miss Clarks’ field, but he did not come any nearer to them so they did not have a chance to find out whether he really was as horrid looking as Ethel Blue imagined.

It was not a short task to make the cave as clean as the girls wanted it to be.  The owner of the tin can had been an untidy person or else his occupation of Fitz-James’s rocks had been so long ago that Nature had accumulated a great deal of rubbish.  Whichever explanation was correct, there were many armfuls to be removed and then the interior of the cave had to be subjected to a thorough sweeping before the girls’ ideas of tidiness were satisfied.  They had to carry all the rubbish away to some distance, for it would not do to leave it near the cave to be an eyesore during the happy days that they meant to spend there.

It was all done and Roger, who happened along, had made a bonfire for them and consumed all the undesirable stuff, before the two mothers appeared for the promised cocoa and the visit of inspection.

The girls at once set about the task of converting them to a belief in the sheltered position of the cave and then they turned their attention to the preparation of the feast.  They had brought an alcohol stove that consisted of a small tripod which held a tin of solid alcohol and supported a saucepan.  When packing up time came the tripod and the can fitted into the saucepan and the handles folded about it compactly.