The Four Corners

"That's Jack all over," she said. "And I know full well that from her point of view she believed she wasn't telling a story."

"That's what she said to me," Nan again asserted.

"It's most astonishing," said Miss Lawrence, but even in her eyes there was a flicker of amusement as she glanced at Miss Dent. "Of course, she must be punished," she went on, "for she must realize how wrong it was and such things cannot be overlooked."

"She didn't really think about its being wrong till she saw you coming," said Nan, "and then she was scared to death, poor little Jack."

This was most tactful of Nan, for Miss Lawrence had a great horror of being dreaded and disliked. She believed in firmness but in gentle and loving control, so she said, "She should not have been scared of me, Nan. I am never unjust, I hope."

"What are you going to do to her?" asked Nan, feeling that she must learn the worst. "If it's very bad, Miss Lawrence, please let me take the punishment; I'm bigger, you know."

The tears sprang to Miss Lawrence's eyes. Nan had scored a second time, all unconsciously. "Why, my dear, do you believe I could be harsh enough to inflict anything dreadful upon a little girl? I assure you I shall do nothing worse than keep her in after school and give her a lecture, not an unkind one, but I hope to be able to make her understand the nature of an untruth better than she does now. I am glad to know the exact facts, Nan; it will make it easier for me to deal with her."

"Shall you tell the whole school?" asked Nan anxiously.

Miss Lawrence considered the question. "No, I think not. I will simply tell them that a false report arose and that another time they must come to see for themselves, and that any announcement of a holiday will be made from the desk by me personally." She then bade Miss Dent good-bye, and stooped to kiss Nan whose championship had won the day for naughty little Jack.

Jack took her punishment stoically and the only remark about it was in answer to her sister's question: "Was it very dreadful, Jack? Was she awfully solemn and terrible?"

Jack's reply was philosophical: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me," she said gravely. And that was all any one was ever able to get out of Jack.

CHAPTER VII

A TOURNAMENT WITH PETE

As Aunt Sarah prophesied, the boys thawed out in a few days, but did not promise by their manner to offer any real companionship. Mary Lee made a point of avoiding them while Nan was perfectly indifferent, and only Jean went out of her way to be agreeable.

"I think they're horrid," complained Mary Lee. "Just because they have a finer house than this one and their father has been some high muck-a-muck they think they can look down on us."

"I don't believe they look down exactly; I think it's because we are girls, and they're not used to playing with girls. We belong to the same family and it isn't anything much to be a Congressman. I'm sure they're polite enough."

"But they're not a bit like Phil," replied Mary Lee who measured all boys by that standard.

"It's because they're not used to girls," insisted Nan; "that's what Aunt Sarah says, and Phil has been used to us ever since he was born."

"But Phil says they're stuck up," persisted Mary Lee, "and a boy ought to know."

"Oh, well, who cares?" returned Nan. "I'm sure I don't, and I don't want boys tagging after me wherever I go," which was something of a fling at Mary Lee who generally preferred Phil's company to that of any of her sisters.

It was Phil, after all, who did bring about a better understanding between the cousins, so that all spent many a holiday in common. It was one Saturday when Phil came over to propose a "sure-enough" tournament, that the fun commenced. He had his own horse and proposed to beg, borrow or —

"Not steal one for me," interrupted Mary Lee.

"I'll get one some way," said Phil. "We must have more than one to enter the lists. The more the better."

As a tournament was sufficiently romantic to appeal to Nan she eagerly put in, "I'll be a knight."

"What'll you ride?" asked Mary Lee.

"Pete."

Phil tumbled back on the grass with a shout of laughter, for Pete was the old mule which Unc' Landy used for all farming purposes. He was aged, half blind and evilly disposed, so his entering a contest like a tournament seemed the height of absurdity.

"You laugh mighty soon," retorted Nan. "Maybe you reckon I can't ride Pete. I can do more with him than any one."

"I think he'd be lots of fun," said Phil, sitting up, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "I'll bring Lightfoot and maybe I can get sister Polly's mare for Mary Lee."

"Oh, I'd love that," cried Mary Lee, enthusiastically. "Who'll be the spectators?"

"We don't need any except the kids. Jack and Jean will do," returned Phil. "We'll just ride for the fun of the thing, you see."

"We can have a make-believe audience," said Nan eagerly. "I'd love that. Where can we have it, Phil?"

"Oh, over in the field, back where the road comes in."

"How about rings? We must have rings."

"One will do. We can't expect to have many. I can fix up one over the gate and if we take that we shall do well."

"That will be a fine place," said Nan, hugging her knees. "Go 'long, Phil, and get your horses and I'll see about Pete. Unc' Landy isn't using him to-day."

Phil went off with a chuckle, promising to return in half an hour, and Nan flew to the house. It was her intention to outdo them all in the matter of costume. Phil had declared his intention of tying some sort of sash around his waist and of wearing his brother Tom's Rough Rider hat with a feather in it. Mary Lee said she would put on a red jacket and tie a silk handkerchief around her head.

"I'll get up something," said Nan evasively. She might not have the swiftest steed but she could have the grandest costume. Whatever Nan went into, she did with all her heart and her enthusiasm went to full lengths whenever she entered any contest.

Nan had the faculty of mentally placing objects in their relative places once she had seen them, and on her way to the house she quickly made an inventory of those things she should need. First there was Jack's plaid skirt; it would about come to her knees. A pair of leathern leggings her mother had worn as part of her riding costume when a girl, she remembered seeing in a trunk in the attic. In this same trunk, to her satisfaction, she came across some strips of plaid like the skirt; these she considered a great find and bore them down-stairs with the leggings.

Having arrayed herself in a green shirt-waist, the plaid skirt and the leggings, Nan rummaged among her treasures to find an old cairngorm pin which had belonged to her Grandmother Lee, and which her mother had once given her as a birthday gift, lacking anything new. Fashioning the plaid strips into a scarf by pinning the longer ones together, she fastened them at the shoulder with the pin. Then her deft fingers contrived from some stiff paper, a sort of Scotch cap. She gave this a coat of shoe polish which dried quickly, and as a finishing touch she pinned to it a long peacock feather which some one had once given her.

When all was ready Nan surveyed herself in the glass with much pride. Her ideas had been gleaned from some pictures of Highland costumes which she had often seen at her Cousin Mag's, and she had determined to take the name of the Knight of Snowdoun, knowing and loving well her "Lady of the Lake."

On her way from the house she stopped in the pantry and took three apples from the barrel standing there. One of these she carefully pared and slipped the paring into her pocket; the others she took with her to the stable yard where old Pete stood, his head over the fence. She rubbed his nose gently and gave him the pared apple. If there was anything Pete loved, it was apples, and with these as a reward Nan knew she could do anything with him, and indeed he allowed her to adjust his bridle and to strap a folded horse blanket upon him and to mount him easily, a bit of apple being the recompense for such amiable behavior.

As Nan rode in state out of the yard in the direction of the field, Ashby Gordon saw her and was fascinated by her appearance.

"What are you going to do?" he called after her.

Nan flashed him a merry look over her shoulder, but made no reply.

There was something entirely too enticing in the possibilities her looks presented and Ashby's curiosity got the better of him. He ran to find Randolph. "Come on, Ran," he said. "I wish you'd see Nan. She looks stunning and she's riding old Pete somewhere. Come on."

More impressed by Ashby's manner than his words, Randolph followed his brother. As they went out they caught sight of Nan just disappearing down the road behind the barn. A dip in the hill hid her from view in another moment, but they determined to take the same direction to see what was going on. Arriving upon the scene, they found Phil on Lightfoot, Mary Lee riding her Cousin Polly's Beauty, and the twins seated as spectators.

"What's going on?" asked Randolph.

"A tournament," said Phil. "There is the grandstand if you want to look on."

"Oh, but I'd like to be in it, if I only had my horse here," said Ran.