this occasion to make a date, even to kiss her. She was not
incapable of letting him, even though she might pretend to
him that she did not want him to. It was agonizing.
In spite of himself, he began to tingle with helpless pain—to
begin to wish that he could see them. But Hegglund, having
called every one to join hands and crack the whip, he took
the hand of Lucille Nickolas, who was holding on to
Hegglund’s, and gave his other free hand to Maida Axelrod,
who in turn gave her free hand to Ratterer. And Higby and
Laura Sipe were about to make up the tail when Sparser
and Hortense came gliding back—he holding her by the
hand. And they now tacked on at the foot. Then Hegglund
and the others began running and doubling back and forth
until all beyond Maida had fallen and let go. And, as Clyde
noted, Hortense and Sparser, in falling, skidded and rolled
against each other to the edge of the shore where were
snow and leaves and twigs. And Hortense’s skirts,
becoming awry in some way, moved up to above her
knees. But instead of showing any embarrassment, as
Clyde thought and wished she might, she sat there for a
few moments without shame and even laughing heartily—
and Sparser with her and still holding her hand. And Laura
Sipe, having fallen in such a way as to trip Higby, who had
fallen across her, they also lay there laughing and yet in a
most suggestive position, as Clyde thought. He noted, too,
that Laura Sipe’s skirts had been worked above her knees.
And Sparser, now sitting up, was pointing to her pretty legs
and laughing loudly, showing most of his teeth. And all the
others were emitting peals and squeals of laughter.
“Hang it all!” thought Clyde. “Why the deuce does he
always have to be hanging about her? Why didn’t he bring
a girl of his own if he wanted to have a good time? What
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right have they got to go where they can’t be seen? And
she thinks I think she means nothing by all this. She never
laughs that heartily with me, you bet. What does she think I
am that she can put that stuff over on me, anyhow?” He
glowered darkly for the moment, but in spite of his thoughts
the line or whip was soon re-formed and this time with
Lucille Nickolas still holding his hand. Sparser and Hortense
at the tail end again. But Hegglund, unconscious of the
mood of Clyde and thinking only of the sport, called: “Better
let some one else take de end dere, hadn’tcha?” And
feeling the fairness of this, Ratterer and Maida Axelrod and
Clyde and Lucille Nickolas now moved down with Higby
and Laura Sipe and Hortense and Sparser above them.
Only, as Clyde noted, Hortense still held Sparser by the
hand, yet she moved just above him and took his hand, he
being to the right, with Sparser next above to her left,
holding her other hand family, which infuriated Clyde. Why
couldn’t he stick to Laura Sipe, the girl brought out here for
him? And Hortense was encouraging him.
He was very sad, and he felt so angry and bitter that he
could scarcely play the game. He wanted to stop and
quarrel with Sparser. But so brisk and eager was Hegglund
that they were off before he could even think of doing so.
And then, try as he would, to keep his balance in the face of
this, he and Lucille and Ratterer and Maida Axelrod were
thrown down and spun around on the ice like curling irons.
And Hortense, letting go of him at the right moment,
seemed to prefer deliberately to hang on to Sparser.
Entangled with these others, Clyde and they spun across
forty feet of smooth, green ice and piled against a snow
bank. At the finish, as he found, Lucille Nickolas was lying
across his knees face down in such a spanking position
that he was compelled to laugh. And Maida Axelrod was on
her back, next to Ratterer, her legs straight up in the air; on
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purpose he thought. She was too coarse and bold for him.
And there followed, of course, squeals and guffaws of
delight—so loud that they could be heard for half a mile.
Hegglund, intensely susceptible to humor at all times,
doubled to the knees, slapped his thighs and bawled. And
Sparser opened his big mouth and chortled and grimaced
until he was scarlet. So infectious was the result that for the
time being Clyde forgot his jealousy. He too looked and
laughed. But Clyde’s mood had not changed really. He still
felt that she wasn’t playing fair.
At the end of all this playing Lucille Nickolas and Tina Kogel
being tired, dropped out. And Hortense, also. Clyde at once
left the group to join her. Ratterer then followed Lucille.
Then the others separating, Hegglund pushed Maida
Axelrod before him down stream out of sight around a
bend. Higby, seemingly taking his cue from this, pulled Tina
Kogel up stream, and Ratterer and Lucille, seeming to see
something of interest, struck into a thicket, laughing and
talking as they went. Even Sparser and Laura, left to
themselves, now wandered off, leaving Clyde and Hortense
alone.
And then, as these two wandered toward a fallen log which
here paralleled the stream, she sat down. But Clyde,
smarting from his fancied wounds, stood silent for the time
being, while she, sensing as much, took him by the belt of
his coat and began to pull at him.
“Giddap, horsey,” she played. “Giddap. My horsey has to
skate me now on the ice.”
Clyde looked at her glumly, glowering mentally, and not to
be diverted so easily from the ills which he felt to be his.
“Whadd’ye wanta let that fellow Sparser always hang
around you for?” he demanded. “I saw you going up the
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creek there with him a while ago. What did he say to you up
there?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
“Oh, no, of course not,” he replied cynically and bitterly.
“And maybe he didn’t kiss you, either.”
“I should say not,” she replied definitely and spitefully, “I’d
like to know what you think I am, anyhow. I don’t let people
kiss me the first time they see me, smarty, and I want you
to know it. I didn’t let you, did I?”
“Oh, that’s all right, too,” answered Clyde; “but you didn’t
like me as well as you do him, either.”
“Oh, didn’t I? Well, maybe I didn’t, but what right have you
to say I like him, anyhow. I’d like to know if I can’t have a
little fun without you watching me all the time. You make
me tired, that’s what you do.” She was quite angry now
because of the proprietary air he appeared to be assuming.
And now Clyde, repulsed and somewhat shaken by this
sudden counter on her part, decided on the instant that
perhaps it might be best for him to modify his tone. After all,
she had never said that she had really cared for him, even
in the face of the implied promise she had made him.
“Oh, well,” he observed glumly after a moment, and not
without a little of sadness in his tone, “I know one thing. If I
let on that I cared for any one as much as you say you do
for me at times, I wouldn’t want to flirt around with others
like you are doing out here.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you?”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Well, who’s flirting anyhow, I’d like to know?”
“You are.”
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“I’m not either, and I wish you’d just go away and let me
alone if you can’t do anything but quarrel with me. Just
because I danced with him up there in the restaurant, is no
reason for you to think I’m flirting. Oh, you make me tired,
that’s what you do.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, you do.”
“Well, maybe I better go off and not bother you any more at
all then,” he returned, a trace of his mother’s courage
welling up in him.
“Well, maybe you had, if that’s the way you’re going to feel
about me all the time,” she answered, and kicked viciously
with her toes at the ice. But Clyde was beginning to feel that
he could not possibly go through with this—that after all he
was too eager about her—too much at her feet. He began
to weaken and gaze nervously at her. And she, thinking of
her coat again, decided to be civil.
“You didn’t look in his eyes, did you?” he asked weakly, his
thoughts going back to her dancing with Sparser.
“When?”
“When you were dancing with him?”
“No, I didn’t, not that I know of, anyhow. But supposing I