The Danger Mark | Page 7

to
take a dare?"
So she retired very unwillingly into the hedge to costume herself while
the two boys invested their fists with the soft chamois gloves of
combat.
"We won't bother to shake hands," observed Scott. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, you will, too," insisted Geraldine; "shake hands before you begin
to fight!"
"I won't," retorted Scott sullenly; "shake hands with anybody who calls
me--what he did."
"Very well then; if you don't, I'll put on those gloves and fight you
myself."
Duane's eyes flew wide open and he gazed upon Geraldine with newly
mixed emotions. She walked over to her brother and said:
"Remember what Howker told us that father used to say--that

squabbling is disgraceful but a good fight is all right. Duane called you
a silly name. Instead of disputing about it and calling each other names,
you ought to settle it with a fight and be friends afterward.... Isn't that
so, Duane?"
Duane seemed doubtful.
"Isn't it so?" she repeated fiercely, stepping so swiftly in front of him
that he jumped back.
"Yes, I guess so," he admitted; and the sudden smile which Geraldine
flashed on him completed his subjection.
Naïda, in her boy's clothes, came out, her hands in her pockets, strutting
a little and occasionally bending far over to catch a view of herself as
best she might.
"All ready!" cried Geraldine; "begin! Look out, Naïda; I'm going to
throw you."
Behind her the two boys touched gloves, then Scott rushed his man.
At the same moment Geraldine seized Naïda.
"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.

Naïda'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 Naïda'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; Naïda 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