Bettie was in the midst of it, but Milton, in the corner, was looking on and talking with a group of those who had outgrown such games.
The ring of noisy, flushed and laughter-intoxicated young people filled the room nearly to the wall, and round and round the ring flew Bettie, pursued by Joe Yohe.
"Go it, Joe!" yelled Bill.
"You're good f'r'im," yelled Shephard.
Milton laughed and clapped his hands.

"Hot foot, Bettie!" Like another Atalanta, the superb young girl sped, now dodging through the ring, now doubling as her pursuer tried to catch her by turning back.

At last she made the third circuit, and, breathless and laughing, took her place in the line.

But Joe rushed upon her, determined to steal a kiss anyhow.
"H'yare! H'yare! None o' that." "That's no fair," cried the rest, and he was caught by a dozen hands.
"She didn't go round three times," he said.
"Yes, she did," cried a dozen voices.
"You shut up," he retorted, brutally, looking at Ed Blackler, who had not spoken at all.

Ed glared back, but said nothing.