The conviction grew with Beth that Harvey Baker's 'gator had eaten Fritz. Her resentment rose against the boy and his pet, she even shedding some tears of anger and of grief.
Soon after breakfast, a red-eyed little girl started out to give Harvey Baker a piece of her mind. She found him, as usual, on the wharf. He was perfectly unconscious of the storm that was in store for him. In fact, he was in the very act of feeding the 'gator.
"Hello, Beth, don't make a noise. I've just whistled for it."
Her eyes snapped. "I just guess I'll make all the noise I want to, so there; and I hope I'll scare the horrid old 'gator away," she concluded, bursting into tears.
Harvey, in his surprise, dropped the meat which he held, and walked over to comfort her. She, however, turned on him like a veritable little shrew.
"Go away, Harvey Baker. I hate both you and your 'gator. That's what makes me cry."
He could not fathom her meaning. He thought, perhaps, she was cross because of the affair of yesterday.
"Was your mamma very angry? Stop crying and I'll go with you and tell her it's——"
"It's not that. Your 'gator——" She could not finish because of sobs. Harvey waited for her tears to subside, but at last grew desperate.
"Can't you tell me what's the matter, Beth?"