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sobbingly, he ducked under the amorous vampire's arm and fled on. He zigzagged desperately to and fro across the broad, empty backyard, a small hand ever and anon managing to clutch his shoulder, the awful petition in his ears:

      "Kiss me some more, darling little boy!"

      "_Hedrick_!"

      Emerging from the kitchen door, Laura stood and gazed in wonder as the two eerie figures sped by her, circled, ducked, dodged, flew madly on. This commonplace purlieu was become the scene of a witch-chase; the moonlight fell upon the ghastly flitting face of the pursued, uplifted in agony, white, wet, with fay eyes; also it illumined the unreal elf following close, a breeze-blown fantasy in rags.

      "Kiss me some more, darling little boy!"

      Laura uttered a sharp exclamation. "Stand still, Hedrick!" she called. "You must!"

      Hedrick made a piteous effort to increase his speed.

      "It's Lolita Martin," called Laura. "She must have her way or nothing can be done with her. Stand _still_!"

      Hedrick had never heard of Lolita Martin, but the added information concerning her was not ineffective: it operated as a spur; and Laura joined the hunt.

      "Stand still!" she cried to the wretched quarry. "She's run away. She must be taken home. Stop, Hedrick! You _must_ stop!"

      Hedrick had no intention of stopping, but Laura was a runner, and, as he dodged the other, caught and held him fast. The next instant, Lolita, laughing happily, flung her arms round his neck from behind.

      "Lemme go!" shuddered Hedrick. "Lemme go!"

      "Kiss me again, darl----"

      "I--woof!" He became inarticulate.

      "She isn't quite right," his sister whispered hurriedly in his ear. "She has spells when she's weak mentally. You must be kind to her. She only wants you to----"

      "`_Only_'!" he echoed hoarsely. "I won't ki----" He was unable to finish the word.

      "We must get her home," said Laura anxiously. "Will you come with me, Lolita, dear?"

      Apparently Lolita had no consciousness whatever of Laura's presence. Instead of replying, she tightened her grasp upon Hedrick and warmly reiterated her request.

      "Shut up, you parrot!" hissed the goaded boy.

      "Perhaps she'll go if you let her walk with her arms round your neck," suggested Laura.

      "If I _what_?"

      "Let's try it. We've got to get her home; her mother must be frantic about her. Come, let's see if she'll go with us that way."

      With convincing earnestness, Hedrick refused to make the experiment until Laura suggested that he remain with Lolita while she summoned assistance; then, as no alternative appeared, his spirit broke utterly, and he consented to the trial, stipulating with a last burst of vehemence that the progress of the unthinkable pageant should be through the alley.

      "Come, Lolita," said Laura coaxingly. "We're going for a nice walk." At the adjective, Hedrick's burdened shoulders were racked with a brief spasm, which recurred as his sister added: "Your darling little boy will let you keep hold of him."

      Lolita seemed content. Laughing gayly, she offered no opposition, but, maintaining her embrace with both arms and walking somewhat sidewise, went willingly enough; and the three slowly crossed the yard, passed through the empty stable and out into the alley. When they reached the cross-street at the alley's upper end, Hedrick balked flatly.

      Laura expostulated, then entreated. Hedrick refused with sincere loathing to be seen upon the street occupying his present position in the group. Laura assured him that there was no one to see; he replied that the moon was bright and the evening early; he would die, and readily, but he would not set foot in the street. Unfortunately, he had selected an unfavourable spot for argument: they were already within a yard or two of the street; and a strange boy, passing, stopped and observed, and whistled discourteously.

      "Ain't he the spooner!" remarked this unknown with hideous admiration.

      "I'll thank you," returned Hedrick haughtily, "to go on about your own business."

      "Kiss me some more, darling little boy!" said Lolita.

      The strange boy squawked, wailed, screamed with laughter, howled the loving petition in a dozen keys of mockery, while Hedrick writhed and Lolita clung. Enriched by a new and great experience, the torturer trotted on, leaving viperish cachinnations in his wake.

      But the martyrdom was at an end. A woman, hurrying past, bareheaded, was greeted by a cry of delight from Lolita, who released Hedrick and ran to her with outstretched arms.

      "We were bringing her home, Mrs. Martin," said Laura, reassuringly. "She's all right; nothing's the matter except that her dress got torn. We found her playing in our yard."

      "I thank you a thousand times, Miss Madison," cried Lolita's mother, and flutteringly plunged into a description of her anxiety, her search for Lolita, and concluded with renewed expressions of gratitude for the child's safe return, an outpouring of thankfulness and joy wholly incomprehensible to Hedrick.

      "Not at all," said Laura cheerfully. "Come, Hedrick. We'll go home by the street, I think." She touched his shoulder, and he went with her in stunned obedience. He was not able to face the incredible thing that had happened to him: he walked in a trance of horror.

      "Poor little girl!" said Laura gently, with what seemed to her brother an indefensibly misplaced compassion. "Usually they have her live in an institution for people afflicted as she is, but they brought her home for a visit last week, I believe. Of course you didn't understand, but I think you should have been more thoughtful. Really, you shouldn't have flirted with her."

      Hedrick stopped short.

      "`_Flirted_'!" His voice was beginning to show symptoms of changing, this year; it rose to a falsetto wail, flickered and went out.

      With the departure of Lolita in safety, what had seemed bizarre and piteous became obscured, and another aspect of the adventure was presented to Laura. The sufferings of the arrogant are not wholly depressing to the spectator; and of arrogance Hedrick had ever been a master. She began to shake; a convulsion took her, and suddenly she sat upon the curbstone without dignity, and laughed as he had never seen her.

      A horrid distrust of her rose within him: he began to realize in what plight he stood, what terrors o'erhung.

      "Look here," he said miserably, "are you--you aren't--you don't have to go and--and _talk_ about this, do you?"

      "No, Hedrick," she responded, rising and controlling herself somewhat. "Not so long as you're good."

      This was no reassuring answer.

      "And politer to Cora," she added.

      Seemingly he heard the lash of a slave-whip crack in the air. The future grew dark.

      "I know you'll try"--she said; and the unhappy lad felt that her assurance was justified; but she had not concluded the sentence--"darling little boy," she capped it, choking slightly.

      "No other little girl ever fell in love with you, did there, Hedrick?" she asked, and, receiving an incoherent but furious reply, she was again overcome, so that she must lean against the fence to recover. "It seems--so--so _curious_," she explained, gasping, "that the first one--the--the only one--should be an--a--an----" She was unable to continue.

      Hedrick's distrust became painfully increased: he began to feel that he disliked Laura.

      She was still wiping her eyes and subject to recurrent outbursts when they reached their own abode; and as he bitterly flung

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