“What is the matter with Perkins?” he asked of Tim, who had declined to go to church, and who had strolled into the orchard to be near his friend.
“What is the matter with Perkins?” Cameron asked a second time, for Tim was apparently too much engaged with a late harvest apple to answer.
“How?” said the boy at length.
“He is so infernally grumpy with me.”
“Grumpy? He's sore, I guess.”
“Sore?”
“You bet! Ever since I beat him in the turnips that day.”
“Ever since YOU beat him?” asked Cameron in amazement. “Why should he be sore against me?”
“He knows it was you done it,” said Tim.
“Nonsense, Tim! Besides, Perkins isn't a baby. He surely doesn't hold that against me.”