For Prettyman Sweet, the sartorial example of Central High, was more than usually gay upon this occasion. And he was not waiting there by chance, it was plain.
“See! Lily is trotting off with him,” laughed Bobby. “They must have patched up a truce. Oh! and look at that collar!” and the wicked Bobby leaned far over the banister and sang gaily:
“He wore a collar extra high,
He wore a purple vest;
He wore his father’s patience out—
But why tell all the rest?”
“That saucy child!” exclaimed Lily, looking back. “She ought to be whipped.”
“You never can get even with her, doncher know,” drawled Purt, shaking his head. “Weally, I’d much like to try it; but I don’t know what to do.”
“And the rest of those girls, laughing, too,” snapped Lily. “Jess Morse and Laura are just as bad.”
“Well, weally——”
“Oh, if you had half the pluck of a rabbit,” scolded Lily, “you’d do something to get square.”
Now, Lil Pendleton wronged Pretty Sweet. He was not particularly brave, it was true; but he would have done a good deal to “get even” with Bobby Hargrew for her sharp tongue. He had been the butt of her jokes for a long time and—— Well, it is said even the worm will turn.
The following afternoon a sudden thunder shower kept some of the girls in the school building after most of the pupils had departed. It was a part of the junior class, and Bobby, as well as Laura and Jess, were among those kept by Miss Carrington after the regular session closed.