ith farming tools, odds
and ends of household stuff and some fishing tackle, and he thought it a
good chance to get away.

"Got an errand in here," he said. "Good-bye."

Some ten minutes later he emerged, looked sharply up the road and
pursued his journey. He had gone scarcely a rod or two, however, when
the girl's voice brought him to a halt, much taken aback. She was seated
by the stream, close to the water.

"I thought you'd be along," she said. "I've been watching the pickerel.
There's one sunning himself close to the top of water now, just by the
lily pads. See me hit him."

She picked up a stone as she spoke, and threw it with surprising ease
and accuracy. It struck the water about six inches from the dark object
to which she had pointed. Henry Burns's chagrin at this second meeting
was lost in admiration.

"Good shot!" he exclaimed. "How'd you know 'twas a pickerel?"

"Oh I catch 'em," she answered. "And once in a while I show one to Benny
Ellison so he can shoot it. I don't like him much, though. He's mean
and--fat."

Henry Burns chuckled.

"He can't help that," he said.

"No, but he's always stuffing himself with candy and things," said the
girl. "And he won't ever give you any. I like people that give away
things once in a while, don't you?"

Henry Burns came the nearest to blushing that he ever had, as he
answered that he guessed he did. There was something in the girl's voice
and manner and in her beaming countenance, telling of her happiness in
the possession of her new finery--though she had feared the ordeal of
wearing it to school, perhaps because of the contrast it made to her
usual garment--that he felt a queer feeling in his throat. But relief
was at hand for him in his embarrassment, for the path that led down to
the camp was in sight, and he bade her good-bye.

He struck off along the path, through the bushes and thin growth of
woods; but had gone only a little way when the sound of voices, one
sharp and angry, made him pause. He retraced his steps, hurrying as he
recognized the voice of Bess Thornton, the tone of which indicated
grief.

He emerged into the road in time to see the girl scramble out of a clump
of brakes and burdock plants by the roadside, the tears standing in her
eyes as she picked the burs from the latter out of the new dress. Just
in front of her, noting her distress with satisfaction, stood Benny
Ellison.

"That's what you get for being so proud," he said bluntl