Each one bestowed a kiss upon her cheek or forehead, and would have
taken her in his arms, or on his knees, or otherwise lingered over
his salute, but they were sternly restrained by their leader. When the
solemn rite was concluded, Step-and-Fetch-It paid his own courtesy
with an extra squeeze of the curly head, and deposited her again in the
truck, a little frightened, a little astonished, but with a considerable
accession to her dignity. Hickory and Patsey looked on with stupefied
amazement. Wan Lee alone remained stolid and unimpressed, regarding the
scene with calm and triangular eyes.
"Will Your Majesty see the Red Rovers dance?"
"No, if you please," said Polly, with gentle seriousness.
"Will Your Majesty fire this barrel of gunpowder, or tap this breaker of
grog?"
"No, I thank you."
"Is there no command Your Majesty would lay upon us?"
"No, please," said Polly, in a failing voice.
"Is there anything Your Majesty has lost? Think again! Will Your Majesty
deign to cast your royal eyes on this?"
He drew from under his buffalo robe what seemed like a long tress of
blond hair, and held it aloft. Polly instantly recognized the missing
scalp of her hapless doll.
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