Here, Dr. Bentley, who had looked less concerned than anyone else present, broke in: 

“Your name is Dobson?” he asked.

“Not Gibson, then?” pressed the doctor.

“Course my name isn’t Gibson, if it’s Dobson,” retorted the farmer.  “There is a man named Gibson who lives ’bout a quarter of a mile from my place.”

“Then I imagine I shall have to take you one side and have a little conversation with you,” smiled the doctor, rising.  “Will you follow me?”

The farmer nodded without speaking and the two men walked away.

Ten minutes later Dr. Bentley returned to the young people.

“I appeased the farmer’s wrath,” he announced, with a laugh.  “And now, young ladies, if my judgment is worth anything, I think it is about time to let the cat out of the bag.”

Eight high school girls flushed and looked rather confused.

“Why, has anything wrong been going on?” inquired Mrs. Bentley anxiously, while Mrs. Meade waited breathlessly for the reply.

“Nothing extremely wrong,” replied Dr. Bentley.  “I will explain what happened.  Some of these young ladies, having heard that boys occasionally rob orchards or gardens for a feast, laughingly promised the young hosts of this evening that they would steal the necessary vegetables for to-night’s supper.  Now, while some boys may sometimes do such things, it is needless to add that no boy with a good home and a mother’s training is likely to become engaged in such petty pilfering.  I don’t believe the boys for a moment credited the girls with any real stealing.”

“We didn’t,” spoke up Dick promptly.  “We knew there was a string to the joke somewhere.”

“These young ladies consulted me,” went on Dr. Bentley.  “Of course they wanted the whole matter kept very quiet, and they made me promise secrecy.  I told them that I didn’t like their plan at all, but they coaxed, and I will admit that I yielded to their coaxing very much against my best judgment.  They wanted to be able to say that they hadn’t paid the farmer, or made any arrangement whatever with him.  That much is true.  They didn’t approach the farmer—–­they sent me.  I went to Farmer Gibson and made the arrangement with him for the supplies, paying him in advance a fair price for whatever the young ladies would take out of his garden.  Yet, in spite of my care in the matter, and my very explicit directions to them, it seems that they went astray, and descended upon the truck garden of Mr. Dobson, instead of that of Mr. Gibson.  Mr. Dobson, not having received any pay, very naturally objected to being looted of his vegetables while Mr. Gibson received the money.  But I have been able to explain matters in a satisfactory manner to Mr. Dobson, and have sent him on his ways”

Eight very crestfallen high school girls listened to this recital.

The boys, had they not felt a manly sympathy for their discomfited friends, would have laughed outright.