ordered, crossly. Johnny obeyed. When she had
finished putting the baby-carriage to rights she
turned upon poor little Johnny Trumbull, and her
face wore the expression of a queen of tragedy.
"Well," said Lily Jennings, "I suppose I shall have
to marry you when I am grown up, after all this."

Johnny gasped. He thought Lily the most beau-
tiful girl he knew, but to be confronted with murder
and marriage within a few minutes was almost too
much. He flushed a burning red. He laughed fool-
ishly. He said nothing.

"It will be very hard on me," stated Lily, "to
marry a boy who tried to murder his nice aunt."

Johnny revived a bit under this feminine disdain.
"I didn't try to murder her," he said in a weak
voice.

"You might have, throwing her down in all that
awful dust, a nice, clean lady. Ladies are not like
boys. It might kill them very quickly to be knocked
down on a dusty road."

"I didn't mean to kill her."

"You might have."

"Well, I didn't, and -- she --"