ething about THAT.

Well, I saw through the whole thing then. Billy hadn't told me, for fear
I would want to go along; so he had sneaked off with Sidney Tracy, and
if he hadn't forgotten all about the letter he had made up his mind it
would do as well to deliver it when he came home. That's the way Billy's
mind works--like Tom Price's stop-watch. It goes up to a certain instant
and then it stops short. You'd better believe I was angry. And it didn't
make it any easier for me to remember that while I was having this
dreadful time at home, and being reproached by everybody. Billy and
Sidney Tracy were sitting comfortably under the willows on the edge of
the river pulling little minnows out of the water. I knew exactly where
they would be--I'd been there with Billy often enough. Just as I thought
of that I looked at poor Peggy, sitting in her wrapper in papa's big
easy-chair, leaning against a pillow Grandma Evarts had put behind her
back, and trying to be calm. She looked so pale and worn and worried and
sick that I made up my mind I'd follow those boys to the river and get
that letter and bring it home to Peggy--for, of course, I was sure it
was for her. I wish you could have seen her face when I said I'd do it,
and the way she jumped up from the chair and then blushed and sank back
and tried to look as if it didn't matter--with her eyes shining all the
time with excitement and hope.

I got on my bicycle and rode off, and I made good time until I crossed
the bridge. Then I had to walk along the river, pushing the bicycle, and
I came to those two boys so quietly that they never saw me until I
was right behind them. They were fishing still, but they had both been
swimming--I could tell that by their wet hair and by the damp, mussy
look of their clothes. When Billy saw me he turned red and began to make
a great fuss over his line. He didn't say a word; he never does when
he's surprised or ashamed, so he doesn't speak very often, anyhow; but I
broke the painful silence by saying a few words myself. I told Billy how
dreadful he had made everybody feel and how they were all blaming
me, and I said I'd thank him for that letter to take home to his poor
suffering sister. Billy put down his rod, and all the time I talked he
was going through his pockets one after the other and getting redder
and redder. I was so busy talking that I didn't understand at first just
what this meant, but when I stopped and held out my hand and looked