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The Captain took an angry step into the pantry and gave a roar of command for Bunty to come down. The boy dropped in an agony of dread and shrinking. "Always his hands a-pickin' and stealin' and his tongue a-lyin'," said Martha Tomlinson, gazing unkindly at the unhappy child.
Bunty, Ralph afterward learned, had run away at a foreign port with a small sum of money not his own. "Cap'n's changed his mind then, sir," returned Tom, "He said as 'e wanted p'tickler care taken of this kid, and he was to wait in the cabin till 'e gets his sea legs on so to speak." "What' your name?" To Ralph, then turning to the men: "Easy there. Lay her even, can't you."
"One morning in April when it was quite chilly Bunty Bun saw several pretty plants on the way to school that she wanted me to dig up for her, root and all, for her garden. I said it would be better to get them on the way home that night, but Bunty said some one might come along and take them and that she wouldn't lose those nice plants for anything.
He wagged his head, and said that he knew, and then they dared him to tell whose patch it was; and all at once he said it was Bunty Williams's, and dared them to come and get the melons with him. None of the boys in the Boy's Town would take a dare, and so they set off with Jim Leonard, one sunny Saturday morning in September.
And if I walk ten miles a day I shall get home in eleven hundred and eighty-three times ten, that's a thousand and and oh! what is it? whatever is it? Bunty, you horrid little pig, can't you, tell me what it is? My head aches too much to work, and a thousand and something days that's a year two years two years three years before I get there.
The year had brought both pleasure and pain as most years do pleasure in the friends she had gathered round her, Adrienne and Jerry and Bunty even with Olga Lermontof an odd, rather one-sided friendship had sprung up, born of the circumstances which had knit their paths together pain in the soreness which still lingered from the hurt that Errington had dealt her.
At tea-time, and during the early part of the evening, she was preoccupied and inclined to be irritable in her anxiety, and she snubbed Bunty two or three times quite unkindly. He had been hovering about her ever since six o'clock in almost a pitiable way.
"It's not for doll-clothes," he said, after she had exhausted all the expressions of gratitude in common use, "because I know you hate them, but you can keep all your little things in them, you see hair strings, and thimbles, and things." There was a sound of dragging outside the door and presently Bunty came in backward, lugging a great, strange thing.
Bunty cried, with sparkling eyes. "I'm sure we could manage it especially as it's Saturday, and Pip hasn't to go to school," Judy continued, thinking it rapidly out. "Two of you could go and get some food. Tell Martha you are all going for a picnic she'll be glad enough not to have dinner to set then you go on.
"Just up there where Pip is sitting," Mrs. Hassal said, "and he was helping Esther with the cake, because she was cutting it with his sword. Such a hole you made in the table-cloth, Esther, my very best damask one with the convolvulus leaves, but, of course, I've darned it dear, dear!" Baby had upset her coffee all over herself and her plate and Bunty, who was next door.
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