"You one of the little gals that was down the road last night?" he asked as he came up. "One of them that was dressed up?"
Polly nodded. "Yes, I was there."
"Us boys didn't know you lived here. We wouldn't have hurt a hair of your head if we had knowed who you was." Then he added somewhat shamefacedly, "I fetched ye a salmon. Maybe ye ain't never see a salmon jest out of the water. They're pretty-colored, ain't they?" And he held up to view the glistening pink fish.
"Oh, how beautiful it is. It seems too pretty to catch, doesn't it?" said Polly bending over to examine the fish the boy laid on the grass.
He stared at her, not quite comprehending how any one could think any fish too pretty to be caught. "They're awful good eatin'," he went on to say, "but they don't often come in here."
"How did you happen to get this one?" asked Polly.
"It was in my father's pound this morning, and I begged him for it. Shall I take it into the kitchen for you?" he added hastily.
"Oh, do you mean to give it to us? How very good you are," said Polly appreciatively.
The boy gave a short laugh. "I wasn't very good last night, was I?" he said, and Polly understood that this was a peace-offering.
That afternoon two younger lads were seen hanging around the house bearing a mysterious something done up in a newspaper. "What in conscience do them boys want?" said Luella, looking out of the kitchen window. "It's Billy Laws and Horeb Potter. What are they peekin' around here for I want to know." One of the boys now advanced toward the house, but at the appearance of Miss Ada on the porch, he took to his heels, and lurked in the distance where his companion was uneasily waiting.