The Danger Mark | Page 7

best she might.
"All ready!" cried Geraldine; "begin! Look out, Na?da; I'm going to throw you."
Behind her the two boys touched gloves, then Scott rushed his man.
At the same moment Geraldine seized Na?da.
"We are not to pull hair," she said; "remember! Now, dear, look out for yourself!"
Of that classic tournament between the clans of Mallett and Seagrave the chronicles are lacking. Doubtless their ancestors before them joined joyously in battle, confident that all details of their prowess would be carefully recorded by the family minstrel.
But the battle of that Saturday noon hour was witnessed only by the sparrows, who were too busy lugging bits of straw and twine to half-completed nests in the cornices of the House of Seagrave, to pay much attention to the combat of the Seagrave children, who had gone quite mad with the happiness of companionship and were expressing it with all their might.
Na?da's dark curls mingled with the grass several times before Geraldine comprehended that her new companion was absurdly at her mercy; and then she seized her with all the desperation of first possession and kissed her hard.
"It's ended," breathed Geraldine tremulously, "and nobody gained the victory and--you will love me, won't you?"
"I don't know--I'm all dirt." She looked at Geraldine, bewildered by the passion of the lonely child's caresses. "Yes--I do love you, Geraldine. Oh, look at those boys! How perfectly disgraceful! They must stop--make them stop, Geraldine!"
Hair on end, grass-stained, dishevelled, and unspeakably dirty, the boys were now sparring for breath. Grime and perspiration streaked their countenances. Duane Mallett wore a humorously tinted eye and a prehensile upper lip; Scott's nose had again yielded to the coy persuasion of a left-handed jab and the proud blood of the Seagraves once more offended high heaven on that April day.
Geraldine, one arm imprisoning Na?da's waist, walked coolly in between them:
"Don't let's fight any more. The thing to do is to get Mrs. Bramton to give you enough for four to eat and bring it back here. Scott, please shake hands with Duane."
"I wasn't licked," muttered Scott.
"Neither was I," said Duane.
"Nobody was licked by anybody," announced Geraldine. "Do get something to eat, Scott; Na?da and I are starving!"
After some hesitation the boys touched gloves respectfully, and Scott shook off his mitts, and started for the kitchen.
And there, to his horror and surprise, he was confronted by Mrs. Severn, black hat, crape veil, and gloves still on, evidently that instant arrived from those occult and, as the children supposed, distant bournes of Staten Island, where the supreme mystery of all had been at work.
"Oh, Scott!" she exclaimed tremulously, "what on earth has happened? What is all this that Mrs. Farren and Howker have been telling me?"
The boy stood petrified. Then there surged over him the memory of his brief happiness in these new companions--a happiness now to be snatched away ere scarcely tasted. Into the child's dirty, disfigured face came a hunted expression; he looked about for an avenue of escape, and Kathleen Severn caught him at the same instant and drew him to her.
"What is it, Scott? Tell me, darling!"
"Nothing.... Yes, there is something. I opened the front door and let a strange boy and girl in to play with us, and I've just been fighting with him, and we were having such good times--I--" his voice broke--"I can't bear to have them go--so soon----"
Kathleen looked at him for a moment, speechless with consternation. Then:
"Where are they, Scott?"
"In the--the hedge."
"Out there?"
"Yes."
"Who are they?"
"Their names are Duane Mallett and Na?da Mallett. We got them to run away from their nurse. Duane's such a bully fellow." A sob choked him.
"Come with me at once," said Kathleen.
Behind the rhododendrons smiling peace was extending its pinions; Duane had produced a pocketful of jack-stones, and the three children were now seated on the grass, Na?da manipulating the jacks with soiled but deft fingers.
Duane was saying to Geraldine:
"It's funny that you didn't know you were rich. Everybody says so, and all the nurses in the Park talk about it every time you and Scott walk past."
"If I'm rich," said Geraldine, "why don't I have more money?"
"Don't they let you have as much as you want?"
"No--only twenty-five cents every month.... It's my turn, Na?da! Oh, bother! I missed. Go on, Duane----"
And, glancing up, her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth as Kathleen Severn, in her mourning veil and gown, came straight up to where they sat.
"Geraldine, dear, the grass is too damp to sit on," said Mrs. Severn quietly. She turned to the youthful guests, who had hastily risen.
"You are Na?da Mallett, it seems; and you are Duane? Please come in now and wash and dress properly, because I am going to telephone to your mother and ask her if you may remain to luncheon and play in the nursery afterward."
Dazed,