"Thave me! I'm going to fall," she cried. Then she disappeared from view
as she sprawled face downward with arms thrust forward among the daisies
and tall grass.

"Oh! She is hurt," cried Hazel in alarm.

"No, she isn't. Don't get excited," answered Margery calmly. "You don't
know Tommy if you think a little tumble like that could harm her. See,
there she goes."

Sure enough, Grace was on her feet again racing down the hill at the same
reckless pace as before. She reached the foot of the hill without further
mishap, hesitated a second or so at the fence, and then vaulted over it.
For a moment, she was out of sight in the ditch beside the road, then she
was seen clambering into the dusty highway.

Hazel was laughing.

"You couldn't do that, Buster, I'll warrant."

"I am sure I don't want to," answered Margery stretching out comfortably
with her hands supporting her head. "I'm no circus performer."

Hazel uttered a little exclamation.

"Look Margery! Look!" she cried.

"Well, what is it? I don't see anything," replied Margery petulantly,
raising herself on one elbow, gazing listlessly down into the valley where
the village lay baking under the hot June sun.