“Proclaims!” taunted Grace. “Has your diploma done that to you, Jule? I would say her make-up gives her away.”
“Gives what away?” challenged Julia.
“The fact that she’s queer.”
“How queer?”
“Very queer.” Grace was not easily conquered.
“Please don’t quarrel over her, girls; she may be nothing of the sort,” intervened Louise. “Any girl fond of horses is apt to look queer.”
This brought Cleo to her feet, but Louise was too quick for her, and the playful race ended in the usual slumping down on a stump, with a heartily sighed “Oh, dear!” from the breathless Louise.
“There’s Pete coming in with the launch now,” remarked Julia, pointing to the graceful little bark that brushed so lightly over the waters toward the dock. “Let’s ask him about Peg.”
“And sit in his launch while he waits for passengers,” suggested Grace. “Come on, Clee and Weasy!” she called to the racers. “Come over here!”
Quickly the little flock gathered and swooped down upon Pete’s pretty launch. The boatman was not opposed to entertaining attractive passengers, even if they didn’t “go out.” They looked nice in the boat and old Pete had an eye for appearances.