In a flash Beatrice comprehended the situation. As Percival began to struggle helplessly in his tormentor's grip, she flew at the bully impetuously.
"Why, it's a gurl!" exclaimed the boy as, dropping Percival's hands, he turned to confront this new adversary.
"Yes," gasped Bee, punctuating her words by vigorous boxes on his ears. "It is a girl. How do you like it?"
With all the strength of her pent-up emotion she sailed into her unhappy victim. Had Bee been given to self analysis she would have known that, aside from her desire to help Percival out of his dilemma, she rejoiced in the opportunity to give vent to her own unhappiness. There followed a few brief moments of spirited action on her part, interspersed with howls of pain from the boy. Presently he broke away from her and fled precipitantly. Flushed by the success of battle Bee turned toward Percival triumphantly.
"There! I don't think he'll trouble you soon again, Percival," she said.
"You are a chum worth having, Beefly," cried the lad enthusiastically. "It was splendid. My! My! didn't you go for him!" He doubled up in a paroxysm of laughter at the remembrance. "But see here!" he ejaculated suddenly, becoming grave. "This baby business is dead right now. I have been guyed about it as long as I am going to be, and this ends it. I am a sure enough boy, and I am going to show it."
"What are you going to do?" demanded Bee, surprised by his earnestness.
"I am going to attend to this hair. The thing's got to be done today. Come down to the house and help me; won't you?"
"Wouldn't it be better for your mother to help you, Percival?" questioned the girl dubiously.
"Come on, and we'll see," he replied. Welcoming the diversion Beatrice followed him.