"Oh, no, no," protested Polly, shaking her head. "I know Joel couldn't go, or else he would. You know that, boys," she said, looking anxiously at them all.
"He's always been before," said Larry, in a dudgeon, "and I don't see what makes him act so now."
"Well, you haven't any right to abuse him, just because he doesn't want to go out with you on the pond," said Alexia warmly, veering round at the first word of blame of Joel from anybody else. "That's a great way to do, I must say."
"And, boys, you know Joel would have gone if he could, don't you?" said
Polly again, the little anxious pucker deepening on her forehead.
"Ye—es," said Larry slowly, digging the toe of his tennis shoe into the ground, as no one else said anything.
"Oh, he would, he would," said Polly, clasping her hands tightly together, the color flying over her cheek. "Something must have happened to keep him back"—as the boys, having nothing more to say, moved off. "Alexia, now I must go home, for I'm afraid—" of what, she didn't say.
"I'll go, too," said Alexia, springing after her, wild to find out what the matter could be with Joel Pepper, to keep him from one of his favorite sports on the pond.
"There isn't anything the matter with him," shouted back Frick, over his shoulder, who had caught Polly's last words. "And he could have gone as easy as not; he was in Mr. King's writing-room with the door locked."
"Grandpapa's writing-room, with the door locked!" repeated Polly, turning around in a puzzled way. "Why—I don't see—oh!" Then she gave such a squeal that Alexia hopped across the road in astonishment. "I know now. Dear, splendid, old Joel! Boys!" She was up by them again, and talking so fast that nobody understood for a moment or two what the whole thing was about.
"For pity's sake, Polly Pepper!" Alexia was shaking her arm, the boys crowding around Polly and hanging on every word.