“Trixy, we have got to get this car,” yelled Gloria, who was too far away to hear what Trixy was saying to her victim.
The scuffle ceased. Trixy took her hand from the boy’s shoulder and he instantly sprang away like some animal released from a cage. She looked after him for a single moment, then turned back to Gloria.
“If we run we can make it,” said Gloria, and run they did, never stopping until they were safely upon the road, with only a few steps between them and the car preparing to move off.
“I gave it to him,” panted Trixy. “Those youngsters need corporal punishment personally administered.”
“Who are they?” Gloria asked, cautiously. “Their father is a mason. He did a lot of work around here on speculation, I heard dad say. I just remembered the name and I know it belongs to those hoodlums,” replied Trixy. She was still rather breathless.
The thought that this mason might have done work on the Towers’ new home flashed across Gloria’s mind, but she did not give utterance to it. Of course, the mechanics might not have been all paid up, but that wouid surely not have provoked such bitterness.
This was the moment for Gloria to enlist the confidence of her companion. But the cars were so rackety, the people getting on and off so disturbing, and altogether it seemed quite impossible to go into the difficulties under these annoying conditions.
“Trixy,” she said rather seriously, “since I have been out here I have felt sort of dazed. You see, I intended to go to boarding school—”
“Oh, yes, I know,” interrupted Trixy with the kindliest smile.
Gloria was astounded. She had not supposed any of the girls knew.