author - "Florence Coombe"
e thing of which the March Hare was incapable, it was running. Jack, who had found this out, checked him from making the attempt.
"Let Toppin go, Harey, and you stay with me," he said. There was a look of satisfaction on his face. It was fine to see even the smallest boarder chevying three day-boys!
Toppin ran his fastest, and panted into the baths only a yard behind Simmons.
"Why, if here isn't the kid! What the dickens has brought you after us, young un?"
"I saw you--racing," panted Toppin, "and I wanted to see--if I couldn't--catch you. And I did!"
His thick red hair was tumbled by the wind, and the odd little tuft which had won him his nickname stuck up very prominently. The small pink face was aglow with triumph, as he stood gasping for breath, and looking up at the three older boys, his hands planted in his pockets and his feet apart.
"You're a boarder," said Armitage, with a touch of contempt.
"I should think I am! Rather!" was Toppin's proud reply.
e thing of which the March Hare was incapable, it was running. Jack, who had found this out, checked him from making the attempt.
"Let Toppin go, Harey, and you stay with me," he said. There was a look of satisfaction on his face. It was fine to see even the smallest boarder chevying three day-boys!
Toppin ran his fastest, and panted into the baths only a yard behind Simmons.
"Why, if here isn't the kid! What the dickens has brought you after us, young un?"
"I saw you--racing," panted Toppin, "and I wanted to see--if I couldn't--catch you. And I did!"
His thick red hair was tumbled by the wind, and the odd little tuft which had won him his nickname stuck up very prominently. The small pink face was aglow with triumph, as he stood gasping for breath, and looking up at the three older boys, his hands planted in his pockets and his feet apart.
"You're a boarder," said Armitage, with a touch of contempt.
"I should think I am! Rather!" was Toppin's proud reply.