“That Miss Belle and Miss Moon,” Henrietta said hastily. “But Miss Jessie and Miss Amy know you didn’t.”
Amy whispered to Jessie: “I feel condemned. Don’t you?”
Her chum nodded, but she said nothing. She was watching Montmorency Shannon. His face expressed nothing but anger.
“Well! They’re the mean things!” he gasped out at last. “I’m going to tell my mother and she won’t do any more fine laundry for the Moons and the Ringolds! You see!”
“And you won’t help them put up those wires, will you, Mont?” asked one of his mates.
“You’re right I won’t.”
“I’m glad Spotted Snake, the Witch, put the come-other on ’em,” muttered little Henrietta, but watching Jessie with caution.
“You are all right now, children,” said Jessie, the boys and Henrietta having gone ashore. “I am glad you haven’t to wait for your radio set, Monty. And when you get it all fixed let me know. I want to come down and see it, and listen in.”
“You come along, Miss Jessie,” said the red-haired boy, “you and Miss Amy. You’ll be welcome.”
But he did not speak with enthusiasm. It was plain that he was troubled. Nor were Amy and Jessie carefree as they went homeward in the Water Thrush.