Bess Carter slowly came down the steps of her home with Fuzz before her, tugging at his lead. Half-way to the gate she raised her eyes from a refractory glove button, and saw her little cousin coming towards her. His hat was pulled down over his eyes, his hands plunged deep into his pockets, and his very walk expressive of some deep determination. Absorbed in his meditation, he did not notice his cousin until Fuzz gave a shrill bark of recognition. Then he looked up, saw her, and took off his hat, but scowled vindictively the while. Bess saw that something was wrong, and, as Rob had started to spend the afternoon with Fred, she surmised that there had been another quarrel.
"Well, Robin, my boy, is anything the matter?" she asked cheerfully.
"No, only I'm not going to see Fred again in a hurry, and I guess he knows it," Rob replied, stopping and putting both elbows on the fence, preparatory to a conversation.
"What has happened, Rob? I don't see why you boys always come to grief. Fred is pleasant enough to me."
"Maybe he is," said Rob half sulkily. "I s'pose I'm the one to blame."
"Tell me all about it, Robin," said Bess. "I know Fred is cross sometimes, but just think how hard it all is for him, this being shut up by himself."
"He needn't be shut up if he doesn't want to," said Rob impatiently. "It's his own fault, if he won't see the boys."
"Oh, Rob, don't be so hard on him!"
"Well, I know, but he needn't be so uncommonly cross, then. I'm sorry for him, but I just won't go there any more."
"What was the trouble to-day?" asked Bess, leaving the question of future visits to be settled later.