“Don’t, dear,” begged Desiré. “We mustn’t act like babies every time something goes wrong. We’ll just start over again. These didn’t cost anything, and it will be easy to make new ones.”
“What’s the trouble?” asked Jack, who had come up behind them.
Both girls explained at once.
“Where’s the fellow now?” demanded the boy, his jaw set, his eyes flashing.
“He went over that bridge,” pointed Priscilla.
“Don’t bother about him,” urged Desiré. “You might get arrested. Let’s go back to the wagon.”
Struggling between the wish to avenge the wrong to his little sisters, and the conviction that it was perhaps wiser to avoid conflict in a strange city, he turned abruptly away from the big iron gates.
“Where are we going next?” asked Desiré, as they walked along the street toward the place where the wagon had been left.
“I bought all the stock we need, and I thought, since Simon always did, we’d go on down the South Shore a ways and then come back here to start for—”
“Home!” concluded Desiré, “and what fun we’ll have settling down in it.”