Heart of Gold | Page 6

hurt, Mother," she said in answer
to the white-haired grandmother's questioning glance.
"How can they? Seems to me they are playing a very harmless game."
"But the house is too high for 'anti-over.' They should have taken the
garage."
"Nonsense! They are developing muscle. Watch that Peace fling the
ball. She can throw almost as well as a boy."
"The lawn is so slippery--"
"They are nimble on their feet, and the ground is soft."
Edith retired to her piano practise and the mother resumed her knitting
with her usual tranquillity. Suddenly above the soft strains of music
that filled the house, rose a yell of dismay from a dozen throats outside.
"What's happened?" Edith glanced apprehensively toward the door.
"Their ball is caught on the roof," answered her mother, still smiling
placidly. "Guess their game is over for tonight. Well, it is time. The
clock is just ready to strike five."
Edith turned back to the piano, but before her hands had touched the
ivory keys, there was a wild, excited, protesting shout from outside that
brought her to her feet and sent her flying for the door.
"Peace, Peace! Come down. You'll fall! You'll fall!"

"Johnny Gates, take that back! She's not a coward! She couldn't keep
the ball from catching in that corner."
"Oh, Peace, never mind the ball. It's Johnny who's the coward."
"Hush! You will confuse her!" Edith's voice was low but vibrant, and
the screams from the terrified watchers below abruptly ceased.
Peace had reached the ball wedged in a hollow by the chimney, and
with accurate aim, sent it spinning down to its white-faced, tearful
owner; but as she turned to crawl back the way she had come, her foot
slipped, she wavered uncertainly, and fell with a crash to the roof,
rolling over and over in a vain endeavor to stop her mad career, till,
with the horrified eyes of the stricken audience glued upon her, she slid
over the coping and landed in a crumpled heap on the sodden turf
below.
Then pandemonium broke loose. Evelyn burst into uncontrollable sobs,
Fanny toppled over in blissful unconsciousness, Cherry, beside herself
with grief, tore down the street to break the direful news to those at
home; and the boys danced and pranced in their terror, as they
screamed, "She's dead, she's dead! Peace Greenfield's dead!"
For a brief instant, which seemed like eternity to Edith Smiley, she
stood rooted to the spot, transfixed by the very horror of it all. Then
loyal Allee's frenzied scream brought her to her senses, and she saw the
golden head bending over the disheveled form in the mud, as the child
repeated again and again, "She's not dead! She can't be dead! I won't let
her be dead!" Swiftly Edith knelt beside the pair and sought to lift the
older child to carry her into the house. But at her first touch, the brown
eyes unclosed, and a roguish smile broke over the white face, as Peace
looked up at the frightened figures above her and giggled hysterically,
"I've often wondered what it would feel like to fly. Do you s'pose it
makes the birds sick and dizzy every time they make a swoop?"
"Peace!" gasped Edith, "are you hurt?"
"No, only things look kind of tipsy 'round here, and my breath has got

St. Vitas Dance." Slowly she stretched out her arms and legs that they
might see that none of her limbs were broken; but when she attempted
to sit up, her lips went white and she fell back on the trampled grass
with a stifled groan.
"You are hurt, Peace Greenfield," declared anxious Allee, hovering
over her like a mother bird over her young.
"There's a place in my back," whispered the injured girl faintly. "I
guess maybe one of my ribs is cracked."
At this moment the distracted President and wild-eyed Gail pushed
through the knot of children huddled about the fallen heroine, and
demanded huskily, "How is she? Not dead? Thank God! Any bones
broken?"
"Nope, Grandpa," smiled Peace cheerfully. "I just got a cricket in my
back, so it hurts a little when I wiggle; but I got Johnny's ball, too,
didn't I?"
"I'm afraid there is something wrong," whispered Edith Smiley, with a
worried look in her eyes, as she made way for the President. "She can't
move without groaning."
The stalwart man stooped over the outstretched figure and gathered it in
his arms, but as he lifted her from the ground she screamed in agony
and fainted quite away. Thus they bore her home--the President with
the still form on his bosom, Gail bearing the muddy red stocking cap,
Cherry and Allee bringing up the rear, while a hushed, scared-faced
throng of playmates followed at some distance.
The next morning the