To-day he was furious.
"Dear me!" exclaimed Mary, "is it you who are making him so angry, Jörgen?"
Jörgen did not answer, but stooped to pick up a small stone. When the dog saw this, he scurried off with his tail between his legs to the shelter of a heap of sticks, and there continued to bark.
"Don't do it!" said Mary, as she saw Jörgen taking aim.
"It will be interesting to see whether or not he retreats in the exact direction of my aim—if he does, the stone will hit him on the back." As Jörgen spoke, he pretended to throw. Off rushed the dog. Then he threw, and the stone landed exactly where he had said. The dog howled.
"You see!" said Jörgen exultingly. "There are not many who can throw like that, I can tell you."
"Do you shoot equally well?"
"Certainly. What I do, Mary—it isn't much, I know—but I do it fairly well."
This she was obliged to admit. The dog's distant fury also confirmed the statement.
As they were taking the short cut up to the house, Jörgen began: "Do you think we should say anything to Mrs. Dawes or to your father about this?"