Not one of them hit him, and as he ran, he looked over his shoulder to grin like an imp, as he shouted:
"Oh, what a shot! Ye couldn't hit the side of the house!"
That so maddened Gwen, that she forgot to run, and in the middle of the street, stood stamping her foot, and shrieking.
Of course Gyp was delighted! If he had not frightened her, he had, at least, the joy of seeing how angry Gwen could be. He vaulted over a low wall, and carelessly whistling, went at high speed across the lawn, toward the river, crossed the bridge, and, as usual, hid in the forest beyond.
Gwen stood, where he had left her, watching him as he hurried away, and finally disappeared.
"Horrid thing!" she cried. "How I wish I knew of something I could do to plague him!"
Gwen was quickly angered, but her anger was never long-lived.
She turned toward home.
"Let him run, if he wants to. Who cares? I don't."
Already she was humming a merry tune.