As the three chums started from Teddy’s yard, carefully carrying their model planes, Lucy Benson came to the kitchen door.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “May I come?”
“No, you can’t,” Teddy answered. “Sorry,” he added as he saw the look of disappointment on his sister’s face. “But we’re going to fly our planes and we don’t want any girls.”
“One of our planes might get tangled in your hair,” said Dick.
“Oh, is that so?” snapped Lucy. “And one of ’em might get lost, too! Then maybe you’ll be glad to have me help hunt it like I did the time Teddy’s plane was lost before. I found it then.”
“Did she?” asked Joe, looking at Lucy. Her cheeks were flushed because of a little excitement.
“Yes, she did—sort of,” Teddy rather grudgingly admitted.
“Oh, Teddy Benson!” exclaimed his sister, stamping her foot on the back porch. “How can you talk that way? You know I found your lost plane all by myself—in the woods.”
“Well, there aren’t going to be any lost planes today,” said Teddy. “So you can’t come. Sorry. Come on, fellows!” he added. “The wind may die out.”
The three boys hurried to Mason’s meadow. Lucy, left behind, looked after them a moment. Then she said: