“Apologize,” Jerry commanded, “apologize this minute, or I’ll do it again!”
“I—I apologize,” faltered Archie, beginning to cry. “You’re a wicked boy, though, and I’ll have you arrested for treating me like this, see if I don’t.”
“What was the trouble, Jerry?” Stephen inquired, while Ada fell upon her cousin with a torrent of mingled sympathy and reproach.
“He said something he had no business to,” returned Jerry. “I’d rather not repeat it, if you don’t mind. It was a lie, and that’s enough for anybody to know.”
“Archie, you didn’t say anything horrid about Gretel!” cried Ada, indignantly. “If you did I’m not a bit sorry he made your nose bleed.”
“I only said——” began Archie, but Jerry cut him short.
“None of that now, do you hear? You say one more word, and you’ll get something more from me. I’d kill any fellow who dared say a word against Gretel, even if he were twice my size.”
“Jerry, you’re a trump!” cried Stephen, giving the boy a sounding slap on the back. “I honor you. Now go into the house and wash your face. As for you, you little cad,” he added, turning to the crestfallen Archie, “you deserve ten times more than you’ve got, and I hope I shall never see you on this place again.” And, quite regardless of Ada’s reproachful glances, he turned and followed Jerry back to the house.