The little girl came to a halt suddenly and nearly dropped her book-satchel. Somebody had called her name—some startling, mysterious voice had called her!
She looked hurriedly about, but there was nobody in sight—nobody but a saucy squirrel perched upon a park bench, and a redbird flitting along the open between the enclosing hawthorns.
Which one had called?
"Louise!"
The little girl started back, too frightened to scream—it was the hawthorn!
But the next moment a boyish bullet-head appeared between parted boughs.
"Come here!" exclaimed its owner in suppressed excitement. "We've got something to tell you!"
Down went the book-satchel, but not in fear this time. Billy Hastings had called—called excitedly—and Billy was known to furnish nearly all the third-grade thrills there were. So the next moment Louise was stooping her way under the hawthorn boughs in answer to her playfellow's summons.
Billy was not alone in the green grotto in which Louise presently found herself, for nearly half the third-grade members were there. There was wide-eyed Tinsie Willis, with her little frilly skirts bristling with excitement, with Mamie Moore swallowing to keep back hysterical tears, and Sadie and Lallie Raiford, with their backs to each other for safe-keeping. And there were boys, a whole mob of boys!
The children were huddled together in suppressed excitement, and were whispering all at the same time. It was plain that something terrible, something menacing, had happened.