"What's that to you, anyway?" asked Ralph, never relaxing his grip upon the stooping Plunkett.
"Oh, nothing much," said Tom; "only you ought to be fair."
"So I am fair," Ralph replied. "I only ducked him for a joke."
"And I only tied your clothes for a joke," responded the smaller boy, with some spirit.
"Well, it's a different thing," said Ralph, "and you know it."
This last clause he added as a clincher, for he was conscious that the distinction between the two acts was far from clear to himself, and was unwilling to argue.
No further remonstrance was made by Cromwell, and little Plunkett soon finished the task imposed upon him, so the subject was dropped, and the boys loitered homeward.
Some flung stones at trees or posts which offered themselves as fair tests of marksmanship, while others plodded along in the rear-guard, making constant efforts to thoroughly dry their hair,—a matter to. which they seemed to attach much importance.
In throwing stones, as in other boyish accomplishments, Ralph easily proved his supremacy, and was foolish enough even to taunt his companions with their lack of skill.
"You can't throw any better than a lot of girls!" he said, contemptuously. "Look, here is the way you throw!" and he gave a wildly farcical fling of the arm.
The boys laughed, for it was comical, but they did not take any pleasure in being reminded of their inferiority, nor did their chagrin fail to bear fruit.
When they came to Main Street,—which, of course, was the street made by the church, the village store, and the town hall,—Ralph's path diverged from the course of the rest, and he turned away, saying jauntily, "So long, boys!" and went whistling homeward.
