The next day William met Ginger on the way to school.
“Well, you’re brave, aren’t you?” he said sarcastically, “goin’ off an’ leavin’ me an’ not rescuin’ me nor nothin’.”
“I like that,” said Ginger indignantly. “What could I do, I’d like to know. You would ride an’ me push. ’F you’d bin unselfish an’ pushed an’ me rode you’d ’ve got off.”
This was unanswerable, but while William was trying to think out an answer Ginger said scornfully:
“You still practisin’ havin’ a false leg? I stopped clickin’ ever so long ago. I should think you was tired of that old game.”
“Well, I’m not!” said William with great self-possession. “I’m goin’ to go on sometime yet jus’ to show I can.”
Just then Emmeline appeared on the road, wearing the horn-rimmed spectacles.
“I say, those is ours!” said Ginger.
“Oh, no!” said Emmeline with a shrill triumphant laugh. “I found them on our front lawn. They’re mine now. You ask William Brown how I found them on our front lawn. But they’re mine now. So there!”
For a moment William was nonplussed. Then a beatific smile overspread his freckled face.