"You, Hester Corey!" he cried. "You leave me alone!"
King stood a little apart, with his hands in his pockets, looking at the combatants.
"Say, we've had about enough of this," he said, speaking quietly, and without excitement. "We Maynards are not accustomed to this sort of thing. We squabble sometimes, but we never get really angry."
"Goody-goody boy!" said Hester, sneeringly, and making one of her worst faces at him. For some reason this performance struck King as funny.
"Do it again," he said. "How do you ever squink up your nose like that! Bet you can't do it three times in succession."
The audacious Hester tried it, and the result was so ludicrous they all laughed.
"Now look here," went on King, "we're not acquainted with you, but we know you're Hester Corey. We know you spoiled our Sand Palace, just out of angry spite. Now, Hester Corey, you've got to be punished for that. We're peaceable people ourselves, but we're just, also. We were about to have a nice celebration, but you've put an end to that before it began. So, instead, we're going to have a trial. You're the prisoner, and you've pleaded guilty,—at least, you've confessed your crime. Queen Sandy, get into that throne,—never mind if it is upset,—set it up again. Grand Sandjandrum, take your place on that mussed up sand heap. You two other chaps,—stand one each side of the prisoner as sentinels. I'll conduct this case, and Queen Sandy will pronounce the sentence. It's us Maynards that Hester Corey seems to have a grudge against, so it's up to us Maynards to take charge of the case. Prisoner, stand on that board there."
"I won't do it!" snapped Hester, and the red locks shook vigorously.
"You will do it," said King, quietly, and for some reason or other Hester quailed before his glance, and then meekly stood where he told her to.
"Have you anything to say for yourself?" King went on. "Any excuse to offer for such a mean, hateful piece of work?"