She stood hesitating and troubled, when her eye caught sight of Preston near.

Springing to him she cried, "O Preston, get my little book from Mr.McFarlane--he won't give it to me." There began then a race of the most uproarious sort between the two young men--springing, turning, darting round among the trees and bushes, shouting to and laughing at each other.

Daisy another time would have been amused; now she was almost frightened, lest all this boisterous work should draw attention.

At last, however, Preston got the spelling book, or Gary let himself be overtaken and gave it up.
"It's mischief, Preston!" he said;--"deep mischief--occult mischief.

I give you warning." "What is it, Daisy ?" said Preston.