“We’ll beat you next time,” went on Phil, and he dodged back to escape a little blow which Madge aimed at him with her small flag. Then the two laughed. Tom, who was chatting with Ruth, heard them, and he half turned to see what was going on. He was just in time to see Phil grasp both Madge’s hands, and his face turned red. Ruth noticed it, and she said:
“Phil and Madge seem to get on well together.”
“Almost too well,” was Tom’s thought, but he said nothing and changed the subject.
“Well, Tom,” said Phil at length, “I suppose we’d better go dress like respectable citizens. You’ve got a spot of mud on your nose.”
“And you have one on your ear,” added Ruth. “I think Tom—I mean Mr. Parsons—looks quite artistic with that beauty spot.”
“We can dispense with the ‘Mister,’ if you like, Ruth,” said Tom boldly.
“Oh!” laughed Ruth. “I don’t know what my brother will say. Eh, Phil?”
“Oh, I guess it’s safe to call ‘Dominie’ Parsons by his front handle,” said Phil. “He’s warranted not to bite. Go ahead, sis.”
“All right,” she agreed with a laugh. “There—Tom”—and she hesitated prettily at the name—“better run along and wash up.”