"I didn't know it was yours. I didn't know it belonged to any one."
"Oh, you didn't," in sarcastic tones. "Perhaps you thought it grew here like that there weed; you look green enough to think that."
Patty clenched her hands and bit her lip to keep from making an answer which she knew would only aggravate matters. She drew herself up and gave the girl a withering look, then she turned to Marian. "Come, let us go," she said.
"Oh, you think you're very grand, don't you," said the girl teasingly. "Well, you're not, and I can tell you we're not going to let you off so easy. You've got to pay for the use of our playhouse. I'll take this in pay," and she grabbed Patty Wee from Marian.
"Oh, no, no," cried Marian in distress, "you can't have my doll."
"I can't, can't I? I'll show you whether I can." And the girl faced Marian so threateningly that she shrank away.
Then Patty thought of a device. "You'd better not come too near us," she cried, "for we've got the whooping-cough," and indeed just then by reason of the excitement she did have a paroxysm of coughing which plainly showed that she spoke truly.
The girl backed away, and as soon as Patty had recovered, she grasped Marian's hand and hurried her away. "Never mind Patty Wee," she said; "I'll get you another just like her. Let's get away as fast as we can."
Marian realized that this was the wiser plan, and they hurried off, their two enemies calling after them mockingly.
Their breathless flight set them both coughing, and when they recovered breath they both walked soberly on without saying a word, their object being to get as far away as possible from the scene of trouble. Up hill and down again they trudged, and presently saw ahead of them a house and garden at the junction of two roads.