sobs. One of the group, who had been watching him
more closely than the others, soon withdrew from the game, and going
in the opposite direction from that taken by Bud Perkins, came
tiptoeing around the haystack.

[Illustration: _His luck was bad_.]

[Illustration: _He withdrew from the game and sat alone against the
barn_.]

The paroxysm of sobs had ceased, and Bud was lying face downward as if
asleep. He heard the step, but pretended not to hear it. He felt some
one pressing the hay beside him. He knew who it was, and the two boys
lay upon the hay without speaking. The Perkins boy turned his head
away from the new-comer; but try as he would, Bud could not keep from
sniffling. In a few moments the other boy tried to roll the Perkins
boy over. It was a vain attempt. Then the sobbing began anew. But it
was a short attack, and, at length, the other boy said: "Bu-ud?" Again
he said, "Bu-ud?" There came no response. "O, Bud--I got somethin'
to tell you!" The sniffling continued, and the other boy kept on
pleading. "Ah, Bud, come on; I got somethin' real good," he said.
Silence answered. The teasing went on: "Say, Bud, I won back all your
marbles." That was repeated twice. Then a hand went over toward the
other boy. He filled it with marbles, and it went back. Another
silence was followed by a rustle of hay, and a dirty face turned over,
and a voice said through a pathetic, apologetic smile: "This old
nicked glassey ain't mine." The two heads nestled together, and four
eyes gazed at the blue sky and the white clouds for a long time. It
was the Perkins boy who spoke: "Say, Piggy, I bet you'd cry, too, if
you was me."

Piggy wormed his arm under the hay around the Perkins boy's neck, as
he asked, "What you goin' to do to-night, Bud?"

"I dunno. Why?" replied Bud.

"Well, I'm comin' out to stay all night. They're goin' to have a party
at our house, and ma said I could."

Bud drew himself up slowly; then threw himself with a quick spring on
top of Piggy, and the two began to wrestle like kittens in the hay.

Even while Piggy Pennington and Bud Perkins were sitting at dusk on
the back-porch steps of the Pennington house, eating turkey-wings
which Mrs. Pennington had given to them, and devouring ham sandwiches
which Piggy had taken from the big platterful in the pantry, looking
the hired girl boldly in the face as he did it, even then the
preparations for the Pennington entertainment were progressing
indoors. The parlo