He sat down on the rum keg and buried his face in his hands. “Ten—fifteen—twenty—” he began slowly.
With a little squeal, Sally Rose picked up her skirts and ran to hide behind a pile of lobster crates in a far corner. The others hesitated a moment.
“Forty-five—fifty—” went on Johnny, still very slow.
They scattered then. Eben crawled under a ship’s boat, broken and lying sideways on the wharf. Dick ran into a doorway across the lane. Kitty waited until she had barely time to crouch down behind a pile of wooden boxes marked with a black “W. I.”—West India goods.
“Ninety-five—one hundred—here I come!” Johnny shouted. He stood up and peered around him, but only for a moment. In almost no time at all he found Sally Rose, but it was a little longer before he pulled her out from behind the lobster crates. Perhaps he had peeked through his fingers, Kitty thought, so that he knew where to look. Perhaps he kissed Sally Rose before they were in plain sight again.
Anyway, it was now Sally Rose’s turn to count, and she found Dick with little trouble.
But after that they really did seem to be young again, and entered into the spirit of the game. Gradually the counting got slower, and the hiding places farther and farther away. Then Sally Rose and Kitty hid together behind a heap of mackerel nets, and Eben found them both at the same time.
“Tie find! Now which of you’s to count and go seek?” asked Dick, putting up his head in the sharp wind. “Just about once more, and ’twill be curfew time, and we’ll have to go home.”
“I’ll count,” offered Kitty.
“No, let me,” said Sally Rose.