Part 10 (1/2)

But B'lindy ”'lowed” she was, for Nancy seized her by the shoulders and kissed first one cheek and then the other, and uttered the perfectly incomprehensible--to B'lindy--remark; ”Webb was right!”

CHAPTER IX

DAVY'S CLUB

”The next thing we do is to s'lute the flag of our country. Now, one, two, three--after me!”

The shrill command floated up to Nancy in her tree-top.

She had just snuggled back against her seat with a long sigh of contentment. The door of her treasure-box stood open and beside her were the sheets of her neglected ma.n.u.script. She had stolen out for an hour's uninterrupted work.

”How _heavenly_ quiet,” she had been saying to the rustling leaves.

”_Now_ I am going to work and make up for lost time.” Everything at Happy House seemed to be back on what Nancy called a ”peace-basis.” ”I must go down to the village and tell Webb what a dear he was to make this seat,” she had thought, as she climbed into it.

Then, just as her inspired pencil had written ”Act 4” across the top of a clean sheet, had come the strange words, seemingly out of nowhere.

”Well, I _never_!” Nancy peeped all around. The sound came apparently from under the cliff. ”Who _is_ it? And how could _anyone_ get there.”

The voice--a boy's--was rattling on in a succession of sharp commands.

Nancy crept toward the edge and peeped over. There, to her amazement, on a strip of sand beach in an indentation of the sh.o.r.e, marched and counter-marched a small boy, quite alone. He was a funny, snub-nosed, tousled headed boy in ragged blouse and blue jeans--and, clearly, very much in earnest, for a deep scowl wrinkled his freckled face.

”At-ten-shun! Shoulder arms--right face--forward, march.” Three feet length of bare-footed manliness stepped briskly across the sand. ”Step up, you d.i.c.k Snead,” and a domineering arm swept out toward an imaginary lagger in the rear.

”Was there _ever_ anything so funny?” giggled Nancy, crouching in the tall gra.s.s at the top of the cliff. ”And what is it? Fairies don't come in over-alls, and I don't think they ever liked military drill, either.”

She loosened a stone and let it roll down the bank. Startled, the youngster lifted his glance to the top of the bank.

”h.e.l.lo,” called Nancy.

A heavy scowl answered her friendly greeting.

”What are you doing?”

”I ain't doin' nothin'.” It was clear that Nancy's interruption was unwelcome. ”Least I ain't doin' nothin' that's hurtin'.”

”Of course not! It sounded nice. I didn't even know there was a beach down there! How did you ever get down?”

The boy grew crafty--the haste with which he answered said plainly that he did not _want_ Nancy to know how.

”Girls can't get down--it's awful dang'rous!”

”Then won't you come up?”

The boy considered this. He had guessed that this must be the ”girl up at the Happy House.” She seemed friendly and not at all disposed to ”chase a feller away.” And if he climbed up to her, then there would be no danger of her discovering the way down to the beach.

”All right, I'll come up.” He disappeared for a moment in the tangle of growth that fringed the foot of the cliff to bob up close at Nancy's side.

”My goodness--it's just as though you came up by magic,” she cried.