"I wouldn't think much of your father, my child," he said, huskily, "if he let me whip you, even if I wanted to."
Lydia took a quick look up into his face. Then she gave a little gasping sigh, her lips quivered and she leaned against his knee.
"Look here, Lydia," said Dave Marshall, "this is to be your punishment. I want you and Kent to teach Margery how to swim and how to get dirty, see? Let her play with you 'common kids,' will you?"
"All right," said Lydia, with a little sigh.
"I know it'll be a hard job," Marshall interpreted the sigh quickly; "that's where the punishment comes in."
"Lydia'll do it. I'll see to it," said Amos.
"You keep out, Dudley. This is between Lydia and me. How about it, Lydia?"
"If you'll boss her mother, I'll boss Margery and Kent," said Lydia, with a sudden laugh.
"It's a bargain." Marshall rose. "Good night, Dudley."
Amos followed his caller to the door. As he did so Lydia heard Kent's whistle in the back yard. She joined him and the two withdrew to a bench behind the woodshed.
"I saw him through the window," said Kent, in a low voice. "What's he going to do to us? Dad's licked me, so that much is done."
Lydia told of their punishment. "Darn it," groaned Kent, "I'd rather had another licking. I certainly do hate that girl."
The two sat staring into the summer twilight. "Anyhow," said Lydia, "I hit her an awful smack in the face to-day. Of course, I had to, but that's why her nose bled so."
"I wish you'd busted her old snoot," grumbled Kent. "She's always turning it up at everybody. We saved somebody's life to-day, by golly, and you'd think we'd committed a crime."
Lydia sighed. "Nothing to look forward to but worry now. O gee, Kent, I've got two pennies! One's Patience's. But let's go spend the other at Spence's!"
"Gum or all day sucker?" asked Kent, who, in spite of the fact that he owned a second-hand bicycle, was not above sharing a penny.
"What kinda gum, spruce or white or tutti-frutti?"
"Spruce then. It makes the most juice. Come on, Lyd, before you're called in."
No one ever knew what Dave Marshall said to Elviry, his wife, but a day or so after, little Margery, in a fine white flannel bathing suit, appeared on the sand, about a quarter of a mile below the Willows. Here any bright day from the last of June to the first week in September, a dozen children might be found at play in and out of the water. There was usually a mother or an older sister somewhere about, but it was to be noted that Mrs. Marshall never appeared. Margery came and went with Lydia.