“And see how brown she is,” added Laura Belding, otherwise “Mother Wit.”
“There! she almost fell,” gasped one of the twins who stood now, with arms entwined, looking at the flying girl with nervous expectancy. It did not seem as though she could run the length of the stone fence without coming to grief.
But it was a quick journey. With a flying leap the girl in the green skirt and yellow scarf disappeared in a clump of brush which masked the wall at its easterly end, just where the road dipped toward the noisy brook which curved around that shoulder of the ridge and, later, fell over a ledge into a broad pool—the murmur of the cascade being faintly audible to the spectators on the summit of the ridge.
“She’s gone!” spoke Bobby, finally, breaking the silence.
“But who’s that coming after her?” demanded Nellie, looking back toward the West. “There! down in the shadow of the trees. Isn’t that a figure moving, too?”
[CHAPTER II—HIDE AND SEEK]
“It’s a man!”
Dora Lockwood said it so tragically that Bobby was highly amused.
“My goodness me!” she chortled. “You said that with all the horrified emphasis of a spinster lady.”
“It is a man—isn’t it?” whispered the other twin.