“Oh, straw and rugs, please,” said Julian. “That’s fine. We’ll be as snug as anything with those.”

“I wish Anne and I could sleep in a stable too,” said George, longingly. “We never have. Can’t we, Captain Johnson?”

“No. You’ve got beds that you’re paying for,” said the Captain. “Anyway, girls can’t do that sort of thing, not even girls who try to be boys, George!”

“I’ve often slept in a stable,” said Henrietta. “At home when we’ve too many visitors, I always turn out and sleep in the straw.”

“Bad luck on the horses!” said George.

“Why?” demanded Henry at once.

“Because you must keep them awake all night with your snoring!” said George.

Henry snorted crossly and went out. It was maddening that she should snore at night, but she simply couldn’t help it.

“Never mind!” George called after her. “It’s a nice manly snore, Henrietta!”

“Shut up, George,” said Dick, rather shocked at this sudden display of pettiness on George’s part.

“Don’t tell me to shut up,” said George. “Tell Henrietta!”

“George, don’t be an ass,” said Julian. But George didn’t like that either, and stalked out of the room in just the same stiff, offended way that Henry had done!

“Oh dear!” said Anne. “It’s been like this all the time. First Henry, then George, then George, then Henry! They really are a couple of idiots!”

She went to see where the boys were to sleep. They had been told to use a small stable, empty except for the gypsy’s horse that lay patiently down, its bandaged leg stretched out on the floor. Anne patted it and stroked it. It was an ugly little thing but its patient brown eyes were lovely.

The boys had heaps of straw to burrow into, and some old rugs. Anne thought it all looked lovely. “You can wash and everything at the house,” she said. “Then just slip over here to sleep. Doesn’t it smell nice? All straw and hay and horse! I hope that gypsy’s horse won’t disturb you. He may be a bit restless if his leg hurts him.”

“Nothing will disturb us tonight!” said Julian. “What with camp-life and open-air and wind-on-the-hills and all that kind of thing, we’re sure to sleep like logs. I think we’re going to enjoy it here, Anne, very quiet and peaceful!”

George looked in at the door. “I’ll lend you Timmy, if you like,” she said, anxious to make up for her display of temper.

“Oh, hallo, George! No thanks. I don’t particularly want old Tim climbing over me all night long, trying to find the softest part of me to sleep on!” said Julian. “I say, look, he’s showing me how to make a good old burrow to sleep in! Hey, Tim, come out of my straw!”

Timmy had flung himself into the straw and was turning vigorously round and round in it as if he were making a bed for himself. He stood and looked up at them, his mouth open and his tongue hanging out at one side.