Miss Jerusha retreated. "You're a very bad boy," she said tartly, "and I shall have no more to say to you."
"You must say I don't tell a lie," insisted Joel with unpleasant firmness, and throwing his head back.
"What are you doing, if you're not fighting?" began Miss Jerusha, loudly; "pray tell."
Joel was just going to say, "They were going to hurt Davie," when, before he could get the words out, Polly was seen running down the road toward them all, her hood flying back on her shoulders.
"Oh, Joel, what do you think--" she began, when she saw the two boys, and, worst of all, Miss Jerusha; then she came to a dead stop.
"Where are your manners?" snapped that lady, wanting to scold some one. "I'm sure when I was a girl I was pretty spoken, when I met people."
"How do you do, Miss Jerusha?" asked Polly. Then she couldn't help regarding the two boys with wide-eyed astonishment; they dug the toes of their shoes in the snow, and wouldn't look at her.
"She says I told her a lie," blurted Joel, not taking his blazing eyes from Miss Jerusha's face.
"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, in the greatest distress. "Joel couldn't tell a lie, Marm; he never did."
Joel flung his black head higher, but he didn't take his eyes from Miss Jerusha's face.