"It's too slow!" he said. "Besides I haven't been wicked enough to-day to do penance! It's splendid for you, Tina. You ought to do penance whenever you feel in a funk, you'd soon cure yourself."
"I'm not going to give up once I'm started," said Puggy, puffing and panting as he struggled on. "You never do anything unless it's easy, Dawn!"
Christina struggled on also, until she looked down at her knees.
"I believe a hole is coming in my stocking," she asserted.
"It hurts me dreadfully. I wish I had on knickerbockers like you. I shall give up!"
Puggy was the only one, who finished his self-appointed task.
"There!" he said. "I'm jolly glad that's done. And I shan't try it again. Now for our den!"
It was a dear little room with windows all round it. There was a cupboard, chair and table: on the wall hung a rusty sword.
Puggy took it down and brandished it in the air. "This will keep off robbers and spies, Tina! We'll cut their heads off directly they appear."
"You must have a password," suggested Dawn; "or one dark night you might out off a friend's head by mistake."