In a fit of violent rage Dave threw everything he could lay hands
on at Stevie--books, cushions, and last a pretty paper-weight. The
books and cushions Stevie dodged, but the paper-weight hit him on the
shin, a sharp enough blow to bring tears to his eyes and the angry
blood to his cheeks. Catching up a cushion that lay near, he sent it
whizzing at Dave, and had the satisfaction of seeing it hit his cousin
full in the face; then, before Dave could retaliate, he slipped into
the hall and slammed the door of the guest room.
Out in the hall he almost danced with rage. "I'll tell Hitty," he
stormed; "I won't wait on him and do things for him any longer. He's
the worst-tempered boy in the whole world. I just won't have another
thing to do with him! I'll go and tell her so."
Before he got half way to Mehitabel, however, he changed his mind, and
stealing softly back, sat on the top step of the stairs, just outside
Dave's room, to wait till Dave should call him, to make up, as had
happened more than once before.
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