Just -- William | Page 9

she said and added:
"What ith a damthel in dithtreth?"
"Stop talkin' an' go away."
Violet Elizabeth looked at the three stern faces and, seeing no relenting in any of them, decided to use her accustomed weapon.
"I'm going to cry," she said in a choking voice.
"All right," said William. "Go on, cry! We don't care."
Violet Elizabeth fluttered her curling lashes. Her blue eyes swam with tears. Her lips trembled.
"You've made me cry," she said with a heartrending little catch in her voice. The tear-filled eyes and choking voice had melted many a heart in their time, but they didn't melt the Outlaws'.
"Well, get on with it," said William. "Don't take all day over it. Cry, if you're goin' to."
But Violet Elizabeth was too good a tactician to waste her weapons. This one proving useless, she discarded it without further ado. The tears vanished from the blue eyes as suddenly as they had appeared.
"All right," she said in her normal voice, "if you won't let me be a lady knight, I'll thcream an' I'll thcream an' I'll thcream, till I'm thick--an' I can," she ended proudly.
They looked at her, nonplussed. They knew that she could. She had often proved her prowess in that field.
"We'd better let her, William," said Henry, "If she starts screamin' someone'll hear an' come along an' make a row. They always do."
"Oh, all right," muttered William.
"Can I be a lady knight, William?" said Violet Elizabeth eagerly.
"Yes," said William disgustedly, "but we jolly well don't want you. Remember that!"
"Yeth, I will, William," said Violet Elizabeth happily. She clapped her hands and began to dance about the floor of the barn. "I'm a lady knight! I'm a lady knight! I'm a lady knight!"
William watched her, scowling morosely, his hands dug deeply into his pockets.
"Gosh!" he said. "The minute you let that girl into anything, it's all messed up."
Suddenly Douglas, who was standing near the door, gave a shout.
"Look who's coming down the lane," he said.
William and Henry ran to join him in the doorway. Down the lane that bordered the field sailed an exultant figure on a bicycle with a pair of boxing gloves round its neck.
"It's Ginger!" said William.
"On a bicycle!" said Henry.
The figure turned in at the open gate and made its way across the field towards the old barn. Then, in an excess of self-confidence and exultation, it took its hands from the handle-bars and zigzagged wildly towards the open doorway. There was a shout, a crash, a burst of frantic barking from Jumble, and the bicycle and its rider rolled to the ground, lying there several feet apart.
William, Henry and Douglas ran to pick up the bicycle.
"Gosh, it's a beauty!" said William, examining it.
"The mudguard's a bit bent," said Douglas, "but that's all."
"You are an idiot," said Henry to the still recumbent figure of Ginger. "You might have smashed the whole thing."
Ginger sat up and rubbed his ankle.
"I might be dead for all you seem to care," he said bitterly.
"Well, you deserve to be," said William. "Fooling about with a bike like this!"
They continued to examine the bicycle and ignore Ginger.
"It's got a three-speed gear," said Douglas.
"And look at these boxing gloves," said Henry, picking them up from the grass.
"Look at its tyres."
"I b'lieve I've broken my neck," said Ginger, rising painfully to his feet.
"Well, the bike isn't broken, an' that's all that matters," said William.
Ginger limped up to them and grabbed the handle-bars. "You leave it alone."
"Whose is it?" said William.
"It's mine," said Ginger. He grabbed the boxing gloves from Henry. "Those are mine, too."
"You'll get in a row when someone finds you've taken them," said Henry.
"I tell you, they're mine. Hector gave them me."
"Hector?" echoed the others.
Hector was Ginger's elder brother, and such gifts from elder brothers were unknown in their experience.
"Is he dyin'?" said Douglas with interest. "I once read a tale about a man what was dyin' an' he gave all his things away an' then he got better an' wanted them back."
"No, he's gettin' married," said Ginger.
"But why's he given you them?"
"Someone's givin' him a motor bike for a weddin' present, so he doesn't want an ole push bike."
"An' what about the boxing gloves?" said William.
"She doesn't like vi'lence."
"Who doesn't?"
"The girl he's marryin'. She says boxing's barb'rous."
"What's that?"
"It's same as bein' a savage. He's got to give up rugger, too, 'cause she says that's barb'rous, too."
"She can't know much about savages if she thinks they box an' play rugger. She mus' be a jolly ign'rant girl."
"Yes, she is. She doesn't take any int'rest in anythin' sensible. She wasn't even int'rested in that dead rat we found, and it was a smashin' one."
"Gosh, yes, it was. Well, I'd jolly well rather be barb'rous than be same as what she is."
"Fancy people marryin' 'em!" said William in disgust.
"When's he goin' to get married?" said Henry.
"When