“By gracious; I wish you could,” groaned out Darry.
“Tell us the worst,” said Jessie. “Out with it.”
“It’s that Ringold girl,” said Darry bitterly.
At that Burd burst into a great shout of laughter and held to his sides while he weaved back and forth on the veranda step. Darry aimed a blow at him that the amused fellow dodged.
“I tell you it is Darry’s fault,” Burd choked. “Too polite! You know how well he has been brought up.”
“Aw, you go fish!” growled out Darry. “You can’t escape from that girl once she gets her hooks into you.”
“But what is it all about?” Jessie asked composedly. “Have you boys no firmness at all?” she went on mockingly. “Must you become the slave of every girl you meet? I did hope that Amy and I had trained you better.”
At that Amy went off in what Burd called a “spasm.”
“Tell you what,” Darry said hurriedly, “those girls are going to have some sort of a shindig down the lake—at Carter’s old place—to-morrow night. The moon is about full. Going in canoes and launches. We couldn’t get away from Belle and from Sally Moon till we’d promised to meet ’em down there. Box lunch. You know the kind of a kid time it will be,” and Darry’s disgust sent his sister and Burd almost into hysterics. The latter declared:
“Don’t ring me in on the matter of not getting away from them without a promise. I didn’t have the wheel of the car. If I had you’d have seen me duck them in a hurry.”