"Fellows!" shouted Captain Carver, in response to this cry, "one of our men has gone back on us. It is not exactly his fault; his stepmother's baby died this morning, and they won't let Will out, although the youngster is only his half-sister, and they are not going to bury her this afternoon, and Will isn't really needed at home, but——"
Here Lyman shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that the ways of some people were beyond his comprehension; then he continued, "But I've got a substitute: Brown Walcott, of New York."
The Hazelnook boys cheered lustily when Lyman ceased speaking, for Gay was now the heroine, or hero, as the reader prefers, of the village; his treatment of his guests at the memorable party, and his reply to the minister, declaring himself "a radical," having now given him that distinction. In recognition of this evidence of his popularity Gay stepped forward, and with a radiant and comprehensive smile, said:
"How are you, fellows?"
The boys expected a speech, and the hum and din of the field immediately ceased, but Gay did not go on, and the Plainville faction soon recovered its voice.
"No girls in mine!" shouted one of its members.
Then a succession of derisive remarks were shot off like a bunch of fire-crackers, one after another:
"Make her a short-stop; she can't stop long!"
"Her petticoats will be out on a fly, if she isn't!"
"Put her in the box!"