"Well, now you know," said Car'line's sister, "an' don't for mercy's sakes ask any more useless questions. I'm most sorry I brung you."
"I might go down and get the boys, Jasper and Tom—they'd love to help," said Polly, feeling that she was very much out of place, and there was no hope of finding Pa under the circumstances.
The old woman clutched her arm and held her fast. "Don't you say a single word about any boys," she commanded. "I hate boys," she exploded, "they're the worry of our lives, Car'line and mine,—they get into our garden, and steal all our fruit, and they hang on behind our chaise when we ride out, and keep me a-lookin' round an' slashin' the whip at 'em the whole livelong time; O my—boys!"
"What in the world is Polly Pepper doing up on those rocks?" cried Jasper, just spying her. "Come on, Tom, and let's see." And they seized their caps, and buttoned their jackets against the wind which had just sprung up, and dashed off to see for themselves.
"Ugh—you go right away!" screamed Car'line's sister, as their heads appeared over the point of rocks, and shaking both hands fiercely at them.
"Whew!" whistled Jasper, with his eyes in surprise on Polly.
"And what old party are you?" demanded Tom, finding it easy to talk to her, as she was by no means a girl. "And do you own this mountain, anyway?"
"Oh, don't," begged Polly. "And Jasper, if you would go away, please, and not ask any questions."
"All right," said Jasper, swallowing his disappointment not to know.
"Come on, Tom, Polly doesn't want us here."
"An' I won't have you here," screamed the old woman, harder than ever.
"So get away as soon as you can. Why, you are boys!"