"I don't have to," replied Louis. "I don't call that any school we had to-day, and I'm not going to study the same lessons twice. You don't know anything about it, Ellen. You just go along and tend to your business. We're not going to do any harm." And Ellen, after standing helplessly looking at them for a moment, went back to her work.
"Will she tell on you, Louis?" asked the boys.
"I don't care if she does," returned he. "If they make a fuss, I know what I can do. I can run away."
"Good for you!" cried Phil Blaney. "Of course you can. You can go out West. You can make your way to California, where your father and mother are. You'll have a fine time, Lou, for you'll meet cowboys, and maybe you'll have a whack at the Indians. That's what I'd like to do. You're no baby, to be ordered around by a little girl and a servant."
"You bet I'm not," returned Louis, feeling very big. "They'd better try bossing me. I'll let 'em know they can't do it."
The boys' play became more and more boisterous as time went on. The schoolroom presented a fine field for sport, and Edna, in her room above, trembled as now and then came a crash which made her jump.
"O, my!" she exclaimed; "I hope they won't go to Uncle Justus's chemical closet. I'm so afraid they will!" And, indeed, the boys were bent on investigating everything, with the intention of putting all in order before they left.
But in the midst of the din came a sudden quiet. Edna could stand it no longer, and she ran down stairs and peeped in the room. In flinging a book across the room one of the boys had upset a bottle of ink, the contents of which spattered floor and wall. The boys were busy mopping it up.
"You can say the cat got up here and did it," Phil Blaney was saying.
"No, he sha'n't," cried Edna, from the door, ready to defend Moggins.