“I don’t care if I do!” she exclaimed bitterly. “Really, I think it would be fine to have pneumonia.”
“Oh, I say, June, that’s ridiculous. Now you’re talking like me. You’re just saying that to hear yourself say something.”
“I mean it, Dale. I’m never ill, anyhow. Nothing ever happens to me. Occasionally I get thin and ethereal, but that’s all.”
They sauntered past the shrubbery behind which Arlington had listened some time before to the words of Spark and Hanks. Once more some one was hidden behind that shrubbery. A pair of restless dark eyes peered out at Spark and the girl. A pair of very red lips softly whispered:
“It’s Sparkfair, and that’s Arlington’s sister with him. Curse Arlington! I’ll get even with him!”
Crouchingly, the fellow slipped to the shelter of another cluster of shrubbery. In this manner he followed the couple some distance. At last they paused and turned back toward the house. As they passed a thick rosebush a pantherish figure leaped onto Sparkfair’s back and hurled him fiercely to the ground.
Dale was stunned and rendered helpless. The assailant, who had a handkerchief tied over the lower part of his face, whirled and caught June Arlington in his arms. She uttered a scream of terror.
“All right, my beauty—squawk away!” laughed the fellow hoarsely. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in a year, and I’m going to kiss you.”
He attempted to lift the handkerchief in order to accomplish his purpose, but she fought him with such fury that he was overcome by surprise. With a snatch she tore the handkerchief from his face and flung it to the grass. Still it was too dark for her to see his features distinctly. By this time the girl’s fight had been answered. Voices were calling to her, and running feet were thudding across the lawn.
“Guess I’ll have to lose that kiss!” panted the ruffian. “Never mind, I’ll get it some other time!”