“It’s just this.  You two girls have got to stay in this house, alone, while Pennington and I walk back to Spring Beach, now!”

“Good gracious!  What for?” exclaimed

Patty, while Daisy screamed, “I won’t do it!  I won’t stay here alone!”

“Be quiet,” said Bill, looking at Daisy sternly.  “You must do as I say.”

“You’re right, Farnsworth,” said Jack Pennington.  “It’s nearly one o’clock, and we must start right off.”

“Yes,” agreed Bill.  “Now, Miss Fairfield, I assure you, you will be perfectly safe here.  It isn’t a pleasant prospect, but there’s nothing else to be done.  The house is securely fastened against intruders.  You can lock the drawing-room doors on this side, so the broken window need cause you no uneasiness.  We will walk back to ‘Red Chimneys,’ unless we can get a lift somehow.  But, at any rate, we will send a car back here for you at the earliest possible moment.”

“It is the only thing to do,” agreed Patty; “but I hate to have you boys start out so wet.  Can’t you borrow from your host’s wardrobe?”

“Good idea!” laughed Bill.  “I saw some men’s raincoats in the hall.  I think we will appropriate them, eh, Pennington?”

With very few further words, the two men took possession of raincoats, rubbers, and umbrellas belonging to their unknown hosts, and went out through the open, broken window into the night.  It was still raining, but not so hard, and Bill called back cheerily, “Good-night, ladies,” as they tramped away.

“It’s awful,” Daisy whimpered, “to leave us two girls here alone and unprotected!  I know we’ll be robbed and murdered by highwaymen!”

“You’re talking nonsense, Daisy,” said Patty, sternly.  “Now, look here, if you’ll just be friendly and decent, we needn’t have such a bad time, but if you’re going to be cross and cry all the time, I shall simply let you alone, and we’ll have a horrid, uncomfortable time.”

This straightforward, common-sense talk brought Daisy to her senses, and though she still looked petulant, she made no more cross or unkind speeches.

“What are you going to do?” she enquired as Patty took off her chiffon gown, and held it carefully before the fire.  “That frock is ruined.”

“Yes, I know, but I’m going to pick it out and make it look as decent as I can.  I suppose I’ll have to wear it home when I go.  Take off yours, and I’ll dry them both nicely.  I’m good at this sort of thing.  Here, I’ll unhook it.”

Daisy dropped her own party frock on the floor and showed little interest as Patty picked it up and daintily fingered its frills into something like shapeliness.

“Hunt around, Daisy,” Patty said, knowing it best to keep the girl occupied.  “Surely you can find something to put round our shoulders.  An afghan or even a table cover would do for a dressing jacket.”

Slightly interested, Daisy went into the next room and returned with two lengths of brocaded silk.