"Here, you twins!" he called. "Stop your fighting. Get up!"
He seized the upper twin, jerked him to his feet and gave him a shake. It proved to be Horry.
"L—l—lemme 'l—l—lone!" cried Horry. "I ain't d—doin' an—an—yth—thing to y—you. Wh—wh—where's m—m—my sh—shoe? G—g—gimme m—my sh—shoe."
Harry scrambled to his feet. "Y—you l—l—let m—m—my b—brother al—l—lone, D—Dick. P—pitch in, H—H—Horry."
Accordingly they both pitched in. Dick had his hands full for a minute. Sally ran up.
"Everett is calling you."
"Pugnacious little beggars!" said Dick.
He knocked their heads together, gently, and ran off, leaving the twins with blazing eyes, looking after him. They began to splutter.
"It's all entirely your own fault," Sally began hastily, "and you know it. Look at the kite."
The kite was pitching in the gusty wind. The tail was not long enough nor the rope either. Occasionally it would dive head down, but Everett always managed to check it, and it rose again, twitching from side to side.