Polly herself did
not know when this temper would take possession of her nor where it
would lead her. At present the young man continued to walk slowly on
toward the white tents, whistling to show his complete indifference,
while the four girls could see that their friends were now stirring
about in camp evidently getting ready to start breakfast.
Without reflecting Polly stooped. There on the ground before her lay a
sharp rock, ground and polished by the waters of the lake, and like a
shot from a bow she flung this stone whistling through the air at the
intruder.
Whether she thought her stone would strike the young man or what
particular effect her childish bad manners would have if it should,
Polly herself did not know. However, she was startled and flushed hotly
when, with an exclamation of pain, the boy put down his pail, placing
one hand quickly to his head.
The four girls had started for their camp, but now Mollie, first
flashing a look of surprise and scorn at her usually beloved sister, ran
on ahead of the others. "I am so sorry," she said in a gentle, reserved
manner peculiar to her, "you were rude not to go away when we asked you,
but it is far worse for one of us to have been so childish as to strike
you. I am dreadfully ashamed.
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