“Put me down, Nan Sherwood. I ain't no baby.”
“But you're a very wet child,” said Nan, laughing, yet on the verge of tears herself. “You might have been drowned, you WOULD have been had it not been for Mr. Indian Pete.”
“Ugh!” whispered Margaret. “I seen him when I come up out o' that nasty water. I wanted to go down again.”
“Hush, Margaret!” cried Nan, sternly. “You must thank him.”
The man was just then moving away. He shook himself like a dog coming out of the stream, and paid no further attention to his own wet condition.
“Wait, please!” Nan called after him.
“She all right now,” said the Indian.
“But Margaret wants to thank you, don't you, Margaret?”
“Much obleeged,” said the little girl, bashfully. “You air all right, you air.”
“That all right, that all right,” said the man, hurriedly. “No need to thank me.”