Becky had taken the matter very coolly. When told she was going to school that day, she said,—
“Why, Teddy and I were going up to the Basin to-day.”
“Yes, rafting,” said Teddy. “It’s plaguy mean to spoil a fellow’s fun.”
“No matter,” replied Becky, with a knowing nod of the head; “guess we’ll go after school, any way.”
When thoroughly scoured and adorned, she took a large book, and sat in the doorway, where the captain found her.
“Well, young ones, what is it—peace or war? Will you go to school quietly, or must we drive you?” said the captain, when he had recovered from his surprise.
“You won’t drive us, captain,” said Becky, looking up, with a smile. “It would be too hard work. We’re going quietly—ain’t we, Teddy?”
“Yes, if we’re let alone. Ain’t going to be lugged like a calf to the slaughter-house, any way,” grumbled Teddy.
“You’d better,” growled the captain. “I ain’t forgot your capers in my orchard. I’m just itching to pay off that score. But I’ll call it square if you give me no trouble now.”