"Give me the key! She wants to be out here."
"She went for the spoons, you intolerable boy," said Violet.
"Do to talk of," said Magnus coolly. "No, my dear; she went because this intolerable boy was around. So you perceive it is very kind of me to keep her where she cannot see him. Come, chicks; let's get the old banjo, and I'll sing you the 'Song of the Summer Girl.'"
"If you sing one single note when Cherry is not by to hear, we will stop our ears," said Rose.
"Then you will not be able to tell her about it afterwards," said Magnus. "Come along."
"Well, you cannot have your dinner till we get the spoons," said Violet.
"At West Point we eat with forks--when we have them," said Magnus. "When we do not, we take our fingers. Where is that banjo?"
The girls followed him, talking and scolding and threatening to tell Mr. Erskine, but Cherry had no idea of waiting for outside help. She was a girl of resources, and the case in hand was not very hard. For this was an outside lock, simply screwed on; an old knife made a fair screwdriver; and, when Magnus had just reached the next room, a soft chink made him look round, and there was Cherry, calmly putting the spoons in place.
"Where did you come from?" he said, turning back.
"The spoon drawer. Do I understand that West Point cadets scorn both spoons and forks?"
"I'll teach you something about West Point cadets, before I go," Magnus asserted, stepping towards her.
"How good of you!" said Cherry mockingly, as she slipped round the table. "We're such an ignorant set out here. Magnus, if you would announce a lecture on warped surfaces, I really think it would draw."
What Magnus would have said or done, and how Cherry might have suffered for her temerity, does not appear. Rose came in, bearing a dish of such chicken pot-pie as Magnus declared never grew on a reservation; Violet followed with potatoes and peas and beets--the pretty red, white, and green of the summer garden; and they all sat down to dinner. Then Magnus found that he had neither spoon nor fork.
"Why, Violet, how careless," the mother said, as he made known the fact.
"Mrs. Kindred," said Cherry, "Magnus said that West Point cadets could eat with their fingers, so I thought if he enjoyed it, we should like to see how it was done. And it would be one less to wash. And the chickens are cut up," she added gravely. Mrs. Kindred laughed.
