She glared at the tricksters while Amanda tossed her head defiantly and Eliza shrank still farther back into the corner.
“But that would have been so silly,” cried Laura, who had snatched the handkerchief from Billie and was examining it eagerly. Vi, in her turn was trying to pull it from her. “Miss Race would know that you would have sense enough not to give yourself away by leaving your handkerchief. Their heads sure are made of bone,” and she favored the girls with a contemptuous glance that was harder to bear than Billie’s anger.
“I wouldn’t leave my handkerchief on purpose of course,” Billie pointed out. “I might have dropped it by accident, though.”
“But how did they get the hanky,” wondered Vi, wide-eyed at this example of depravity.
“Probably stole it out of my pocket when I wasn’t looking,” said Billie contemptuously, and at that Amanda made a show of defense.
“You needn’t call me a thief, Billie Bradley!” she exclaimed, but Laura cut her short with a flippant observation.
“Would you rather she would call Miss Walters?” she asked, which effectively closed the girl’s mouth.
“Let’s make ’em clean up,” suggested Billie. “I’d call Miss Walters, only they’re not worth spoiling her sleep for. Come on over here, you two, and get busy.”
“We won’t do it,” said Amanda, but as Billie started toward her she quite suddenly changed her mind.
“Oh, all right,” she said angrily, as she flounced over to the desk, pulling the limp “Shadow” after her. “We’ll do it this time. But you just look out, Billie Bradley. I’ll make you pay for this.”