"I only wanted to tease you," Max replied, "and I'll let you go with me, Gwen. Turn 'round and look at that high hill over back of the house where we're staying. I'm going to climb to the top of that hill, and go down on the other side, just to see what there is 'round behind that hill."
"Then why don't you walk around it, instead of climbing?" questioned Gwen.
"Smarty!" Max said, at he same time looking very unpleasant.
"Oh, I don't care," Gwen hastened to say. "I like to climb. Come on!"
It did not look like much of a hill, but it proved to be hard to climb, for its sides were steep, and covered with wiry grass.
The sun was hot, and long before reaching the top, Gwen wished that she had not started at all.
Twice she stopped to take short pieces of stems or dry twigs from her slippers, and often the thorny branches of the low bushes scratched her bare arms.
Her sleeves were short, and thus her arms were unprotected. Max's arms were covered by his jacket sleeves.
"What a fuss you make over a little scratch!" he said, sharply.
"I'm not fussing over a scratch!" snapped Gwen. "I'm fussing over 'bout a hundred scratches!"