"Oh, Max, Max! I don't want you to, and just think! What would your mother say?"
Gwen meant it rightly, but it did not please Max.
"There you go!" he cried. "That's the same as saying 'sissy' again. I guess I can go where I want to. A man can do as he likes without asking."
Again Gwen blundered.
"Oh, but Max, you're not a man. You're just a boy, and I wish you wouldn't talk as if you meant to go 'way off somewhere."
Just a boy! That was aggravating. Max felt sure that in a moment more she would call him a little boy, and that would indeed be too much for any boy to ever overlook.
Gwen laid her hand on his arm, intending to coax him to stay, but Max was too angry to be easily pacified.
"See here!" he cried, roughly brushing her hand from his arm. "You heard me say I'd 'bout decided to run away to sea, but you don't know whether I will or not, so look out and not be a tell-tale, for if I do go, and ever come back, and find out you told, I'd never speak to you!"
Before Gwen could get over her surprise, and grasp the meaning of what he had said, he was off at top speed down the beach.
She started to follow, but he turned and shouted: "Don't you dare to tag on!"