It seemed as
though I'd forgotten something that was necessary to the recipe,
because they were flatter after they were cooked than when I put them
in the oven. And most marvelously heavy, too! But it was just the
baking-powder, that was all. Do you--do you think you'd care to help?"
[Illustration: "Oh, I can't tell you how glad I am to see you--so
well."]
Steve was very late in returning to camp that night. Throughout the
rest of the afternoon he set himself a pace, knee-deep in slushy mud,
which Garry could not have maintained. But when he paused there in the
dark where he always stopped for a moment and a tumult of voices swept
down to meet him, he forgot his fatigue. He had lifted his battered
hat from his head, striving to distinguish a single note in all that
treble of girlish laughter when, framed suddenly against the background
of light within, he saw a slender silhouette take up its station in the
doorframe. Barbara was still peering out across the darkness when he
came up to her.
"We've been waiting dinner for you for almost an hour," she rebuked
him, in place of what might have been a commonplace greeting. "We've
been waiting in the face of Mr. Morgan's insistence that it was
practically useless. He has been telling us that when a man here in
the hills fails to turn up for a meal you never bother to look for him;
you know that the worst has happened.
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