“Don’t scold him! Don’t scold Neale!” begged Agnes. “He’s all right.”
“Oh, no, he isn’t,” said Ruth grimly. “One side of him is left! And you will promise to be good or I’ll make Mr. Howbridge send Neale home, right from here.”
“Oh!” cried her sister. “You would not be so mean, Ruthie Kenway.”
“I don’t know but I would,” Ruth rejoined. “I don’t think so much of boys, anyway—”
“Not until they get to be collegians,” whispered Neale shrilly from behind his hand.
Ruth’s eyes snapped at that, and she marched away without another word. Mr. Howbridge refrained from commenting upon the incident, for he saw that Ruth had said quite all that was necessary.
Neale and Agnes were much abashed. They followed the others slowly toward the village on the ice. Neale said:
“Well, if she says I can’t go any farther I’ll stay right here and fish until you come back, Aggie.”
“Oh, Neale! You wouldn’t!”
“Why not? Maybe I’d make a little money. If two twelve year old girls could stand it for a week here, I don’t see why I couldn’t stand it for three weeks.”