“Don’t you ever do that again, Bess,” Kitty said angrily. “If you have any silly advice, and you feel you must yell it out, you’re to wait until the player has finished. Do you understand?”
“I told her to keep still,” May grumbled, “but she wouldn’t do it.”
“You see that she does next time,” Louise advised.
The girls walked on. Their lecture had made no impression whatever on Bess Ward. She tossed her head with a great show of indifference, and started whistling.
“Yes, she’s decidedly bumptious,” Gladys said quietly, as Ann rose to take her place. “If she so much as breathes aloud, when you’re up, I’ll murder her,” and Gladys fastened her eyes on the Red Twins, and looked so threatening, that Bess squirmed uncomfortably.
Ann did everything that she did methodically, and though her hands may have been cold, none of the onlookers, who watched her carefully string her bow and fit her arrow, guessed it.
“Don’t watch her, it gives her fits,” Prue whispered almost in tears.
So the girls directed their gaze towards the target. One arrow whanged through the air and hit the red, so near to the bulls-eye, that the spectators gasped. Another arrow fell just beside it. The third pinned the blue, and the fourth and fifth returned to the red, in a little cluster.
“Fourteen, oh my Aunt Jane’s Poll-parrot!” Sally exclaimed. “How perfectly beautiful!”
“I knew she’d do it,” Prue exulted, as she wrote the number down, in broad white letters.