Both boys were decidedly embarrassed. Harry’s pale face was red with confusion. Teddy colored hotly under his freckles. His black eyes became two belligerent sparks.
“Shall we go to Mr. Marsh now?” asked Harry quietly.
“Yes, and return at once. Don’t play along the way. Bring them to me. I shall be in that room.” She pointed to the door on the right.
“B-r-rr!” shivered Teddy, once their backs were fairly turned to the woman. “I wonder who she is.”
“I suppose she’s the principal,” returned Harry.
“She makes me tired. How were we to know about school slips? It’s Mr. Marsh’s fault for not telling us. Why didn’t you tell her that he didn’t say anything about ’em?” demanded Teddy.
“Because I didn’t like to begin that way. I’d rather take the blame than lay it upon him. I’d hate to tell tales of anyone who has been so nice to us as he has.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt him. He’s a match for this old girl.”
“Teddy Burke!” Harry’s voice carried a note of sternness. “Do you think it’s nice to call a lady an ‘old girl?’ Suppose someone called your mother that. You’d be pretty angry, I guess.”
“Nobody could call my mother that,” flung back Teddy. “She’s young and nice, and not a bit like that old crank of a principal. I’m going to call her the Dragoness.”