"But he said he'd come. He promised he would," cried Hecla.
"Oh, well, I suppose he's changed his mind," Mildred observed, as if it did not matter much either way. "Never mind. I dare say he'll turn up presently."
"But he's got to go to school. There isn't time now," Hecla said dolefully.
"It's ten minutes to four. He could run to school from here in five minutes. We'll wait, anyhow. Come, let's throw in sticks."
She chose one, and flung it in herself, and they ran down the stream, to see it float out from under the arch. Then they raced back in high glee, and threw in three sticks all at the same moment, careering down the road to see which of the three would be foremost.
Once in a while a stick would refuse to appear, having been caught fast somewhere under the arch; and the knowledge that this might happen added to the excitement of their game.
Hecla's stick came out first, whereat she was immensely excited, and called out loudly in her delight. Mildred's appeared next; and Ivy's never turned up at all.
They raced up the stream again, Hecla keeping pace with Mildred, while Ivy toiled more slowly after, her little legs aching with such violent exercise. As she arrived above the covered part, Mildred and Hecla were starting anew, having just flung two biggish boughs into the river.
"Come along," they called to Ivy; but they did not wait to see whether she obeyed.
She was too tired to be off instantly, and also she wanted to follow their example. A storm of wind, two nights earlier, had blown down many boughs, and several lay near at hand.