Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/107

THE PICNIC "Sh! No. I thi—think it's the cows. They were lying down and we disturbed them. Yes—it was the cows."

"Not on your life," says I. "The cows wouldn't run for us. Anyhow, it would be the first time they ever got out of the way. They'd let you fall over 'em first. We got to be careful about men around the place. I didn't think of it till now. But there's been no one about all day! It's war-times, Evelyn, and, if you ever see any one about you must tell me."

"Yes, daddy, dear," she says, excitedly.

"We'll look around and see whether they've taken anything," says I.

Things looked queer, even in the dark. And, first I know, I tumbles over a tree!

Well! Some one had cut down the finest oak in the circle around the house!—on the south side!

"My great-grandfather Hiliary planted that tree," says I, hot and hard, "and it would be as much as his life would be worth for me to find the rascal who did it!" 91