“You were a very efficient first-aider,” came the quick retort.
“Oh, I say now, Madge—that isn’t fair. I couldn’t help it—honestly. Say, come for a row; will you? It’s early yet.”
“And leave Mabel?”
“She left you, or, rather, Frank kidnapped her. We’ll get them, if you like, but——”
“Oh, I don’t know as it’s necessary,” was Miss Tyler’s calm but quick response, and the mischief in her eyes grew. “If you’re sure you want me, I’ll come, but I’m not going to get scratched with a thorn, so you can save your handkerchief.”
“Oh, I say now, that’s not fair,” laughed Tom. “I haven’t seen Miss Benson since, though I suppose you and Mr. Shambler——”
“Tom!” she exclaimed, half angrily, and our hero had the sense to say no more. The two were soon in the boat, Tom rowing idly along under the arches of overhanging bushes.
The little misunderstanding had passed away, and the two were their happy selves again. Tom’s first care was to make sure that he would see Miss Tyler at the games, and she promised to be on hand, and to join a little party that Tom and his chums were planning after the events had been run off.
“But I think you had better put me ashore now,” said Madge after a bit. “It is getting late, and it’s quite a walk for Mabel and me back to Fairview. There she is now, waving to me.”