"
The young man smiled, not very cheerfully it must be admitted, but at
least not looking so angry as he had the right to. "Did you throw the
stone?" he inquired. "I never would have believed a girl could throw
straight if I hadn't felt the blow, so perhaps you are learning one or
two things by living like boys. Never mind, I can see you are not the
guilty one."
"We are not trying to live in the least like boys, only like sensible
girls," Mollie started in to reply quietly, but the last part of her
sentence trailed off into a faint whisper, for the young man had just
taken his hand down from his head and his fingers were covered with
blood, a few drops were even trickling down the back of his neck inside
his soft flannel shirt.
The other three girls had now come close enough to see the blood also,
and except for Betty, Pony would everlastingly have disgraced herself.
There are many persons in the world whom the sight of blood fills with a
strange shrinking and terror that is almost like faintness, and Polly
was one of them. Now she wanted to run away, she even turned to fly,
when her friend caught hold of her. "Don't be utterly stupid, Polly,
you have done a foolish trick and you've got to face the music, for if
you don't, you know Mollie is apt to take the blame upon herself.
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