shout of boyish merriment.

Yuki Chan, looking from him to the smiling jinrikisha man, grew
crimson with anger. With a swift movement she ran toward the ditch.

Divining her purpose by the look in her eyes, Dick Merrit went
gallantly to the rescue of the kitten. He was tall for his sixteen
years, and his long strides more than matched the pattering steps of
the slip of a girl who raced before him.

"No, you don't, kiddie," he cried; "your manicured cat is not going
into the ditch, if we have to scrap for it."

Merrit caught Yuki Chan in one arm, and again and again loosened her
fingers from the struggling kitten.

"Iya, Iya!" the child screamed; but Merrit, as determined as she, held
her firmly, and ended by lightly slapping first one little hand and
then the other.

The child, thus coming into contact for the first time with physical
force, relaxed her grasp and gazed in amazement at the boy's
determined face.

"I guess your 'Iya' means no, little lady, and I say 'Iya' too," said
Merrit, taking the cat into his arms and smoothing its uneven back.
"You are not going to put it into the ditch. Why don't you give it to
me? I am getting up a collection of cats and things at the school, and
I'd like to take this queer specimen along. Ask her if I can have it."