now, that was jolly good. I never thought a girl could hit
like that. I couldn't have done it better myself, and you're only
thirteen. I was fourteen last birthday."

Marjory began, "I'm so sorry," but Alan stopped her. "I tell you it was
jolly good. I'm glad you can hit; you don't seem so much like a girl.--I
say," turning to Blanche and blushing crimson under his freckles, "it
was beastly of me to call names after you." The boy shifted uneasily
from one foot to the other as he made his apology.

"Yes, it was rather," replied Blanche, "but it isn't the first time boys
have done it. I suppose my hair is carroty," ruefully, "but I think it
is rather mean to tease me about a thing I can't help."

"I say, I'm awfully sorry," said Alan, more shamefaced than ever.

"Never mind," said Blanche graciously; "I'll forgive you this once. Come
along; it's cold standing here apologizing and forgiving." And with a
merry laugh she started on.

Marjory, ashamed of her part in the quarrel, asked Alan if his forehead
hurt.

"No, it's nothing but a scratch, but I tell you," enthusiastically, "it
was a splendid hit. Any fellow would have done the same if another chap
had ragged his friend. I say," he continued bashfully, "would you two
chum up with me? It's beastly dull for me at home now."

"Where's Herbert?" asked Marjory.

"Oh, he's at home, but he's no good to me now," kicking a stone with his
foot, to the great satisfaction of the dogs; and then he continued,
"Since he went into the sixth, he thinks of nothing but the cut of his
coats and the shape of his collars, and whether girls think he's
better-looking than the other fellows. It's positively sickening. And
now we're at home he hangs about father, and won't do anything with me.
He called me a 'kid' this morning, young silly ass that he is." Another
stone went flying. "But look here," in a different tone and turning to
Marjory; "you're not a bit like a girl if you can hit like that, and I
should be awfully obliged to you if you would chum up with me. We could
have jolly fun if you would."

"All right," said Marjory, sorry for any one who was lonely; "we'll be
friends--that is, if Blanche wants to too; we always do everything
together." And she looked at her friend.

Blanche was too sweet-natured to be selfish over this proposal; besides,
she rather liked the look of this boy with his freckled face and honest
eyes, so she said, "Yes, let's have a Triple Alliance, like we'