6
As the other children trooped out, Arne pretended to be deep in his work. Let them go then, and have a good time. What did they care about his troubles? They didn’t have a brother out on the stormy sea and a worried family at home. Let them go, and see if he cared! But he did care, tremendously. There was a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow.
Bergel passed his seat and touched his shoulder gently. He shrugged off her hand, but she slid it down toward his and left a piece of paper there. He acted as if he didn’t see it, for he was hurt and disappointed and angry. Probably just a note saying he should have been more careful. He wouldn’t even look at it.
The shouting and laughter died away at last, and Arne looked gloomily down at his books. He felt more like crying than doing exercises. But of course he was too big to do a thing like that. If only Herr Engstrand had given him anything but English grammar to do! He must know how Arne disliked that. Arithmetic, now—he could have got that done in a hurry and maybe he could have caught up with the others. But English grammar! And two long exercises! He’d never get those done.
Suddenly he remembered another trip up the mountain—the summer trip, when he had thought he would have to stay home to bale lutfisk. With Gustav’s help, he had got that job done in time to go with the others. No one was here to help him now, but perhaps he could get this job done himself and follow the others. His usual hopefulness began to come to his rescue. Herr Engstrand hadn’t said he couldn’t come on the trip. He had only said he must finish the exercises before he left.
Arne turned to his books in earnest, now. He knew how to do that first sentence, anyway. Maybe this wasn’t such a hard exercise, after all. He was half through it, his spirits rising as he worked, when his hopes fell again. He didn’t know the way to the Utvig saeter, and he was well enough acquainted with mountains to realize that a snowy day in December was no time to strike out on unfamiliar ways.
He gave a deep sigh and turned back to his work. No use to try to get it done fast. It didn’t matter when he finished. But he went doggedly on, and a sudden thought came to him. Bergel had certainly looked as if she wanted to tell him something. He picked up the note, his face brightening as he read: “Utvig saeter is above ours. Go up the Ahlness trail, then take the left fork where there are three saeter cabins.” She had even scrawled a little map. With fresh energy, Arne bent to his lesson.