“Stand right where you are,” directed Jack, when she reached the edge of the clearing. “Don’t come any nearer. What on earth possessed you to meddle with a wood pussy?”
“I—I thought it was a kitten,” faltered the little girl, thoroughly frightened.
“If you’d followed us closely, as Jack told you, you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble,” said Desiré severely. “What can we do with her, Jack?”
“I’ll get a pail of water from that pond, while you find fresh clothing; then I’ll carry the things over to the woods. She’ll have to go behind that clump of scrub pine and take off her clothing, make up the garments into a bundle, throw it as far into the woods as she can, then bathe and put on fresh things,” replied Jack, taking a pail and starting down the road toward a small, but deep, pool of water.
“I’ll go and help her,” said Desiré, when he returned.
“Stay right where you are,” he directed quietly but firmly. “She can manage perfectly well by herself.”
He crossed the road; and Desiré, though she could not quite distinguish the words, listened to the brief, curt orders he issued to the unfortunate little girl. Then he returned and stood leaning against the side of the wagon. René had dozed off, and Desiré laid him on the seat.
“This is one phase of our adventure that we did not consider,” began Jack, after a pause. His face looked more serious, even, than usual.
“What? Prissy getting mixed up with a wood pussy?” laughed Desiré.
“No. The problem of discipline. The free and lazy life is going to let the youngsters get a bit out of hand, I’m afraid.”