"Oh, Joel, where _are_ you?" cried Polly, racing along the hall. "Oh,
dear me! Percy, is that you?" as Percy, with Van at his heels, came near
running into her.
"Yes, it is," said Percy, coming to an abrupt stop, but Van ran past them.
"Hold on, Van," he cried, his face growing very red, "that's not fair, when
Polly wanted to speak to us."
"She didn't want to speak to me," said Van, making pretty quick time down
the hall.
"Oh, Polly, make him stop," begged Percy, twitching her sleeve; "he's going
up into Ben's room; it's not fair, for I was ahead."
"Well, you aren't ahead now," cried Van in glee, and mounting the stairs,
he couldn't resist the temptation to peer over the railing. "Ha, ha! who's
the smart one now? I'll get there first, Percy Whitney."
"You shan't. Oh, make him stop," howled Percy, in distress.
"Van," called Polly, looking up at him.
"What?" said Van, wishing he hadn't wasted the time in exhibiting his
triumph. He still kept on.
"I want you," said Polly clearly. "Come down, Vanny, that's a good boy."
"What do you want me for?" asked Van, turning slowly to look down at her.
"Come down, and you'll see. Make haste, Van, for I'm in a dreadful hurry."
"What do you want me for?" repeated Van, begrudging every step of the way
he was now taking, and keeping a sharp look out that Percy didn't spring
past him.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241