“Well, I’ll not stand for it. Why, it seems to me it would be easy to get away some time or other when nobody’s on the watch. Why, Dora, we’ve been talking here for fifteen minutes, and nobody’s been bothering about us in the least.”
“Don’t you believe it, Clarence. Those two women have been keeping their eyes on us ever since we shook hands. They take turn about, and the watching is going on night and day.”
“Is that so? By the way, I notice that boy helping those fellows at the boat is looking this way very often.”
“That’s Pete’s youngest son. He’s a bit quarrelsome. He’s generally pretty nice to me; but I think that’s because Ben gave him a shaking up one day when he was rude to me. His name is Ezra. I think he’s a sort of bully. I am afraid of him.”
“I don’t like bullies myself,” said Clarence.
“He’s watching you,” continued Dora. “He always gets angry and out of sorts when anybody is friendly to me. Those little gypsies all like me. But Ezra, when he notices them about me much, gives them a lot of trouble.”
“Maybe he’s jealous,” suggested the artless youth.
“Jealous? Why should he be jealous? He doesn’t care for me.”
“I can’t believe that,” said Clarence. “Anybody who meets you would be sure to like you, because you are a good fellow.”
Dora broke into so ringing a laugh that all the artists engaged upon the boat stopped their work to turn their gaze upon the two children.