Lloyd had seen the boys several times before.  They were little fellows of six and nine, with unusually thin legs and shrill voices, and were always eating.

Every time a deck steward passed, they grabbed a share of whatever he carried.  They seemed to have discovered some secret passage to the ship’s supplies.  Their blouses were pouched out all around with the store of gingersnaps, nuts, and apples which they had managed to stow away as a reserve fund.  Lloyd had seen the larger boy draw out six bananas, one after another, from his blouse, and then squirm and wriggle and almost stand on his head to reach the seventh, which had slipped around to his back while he was eating the others.  They were munching raisins now, as they ran.

After their collision with Lloyd they stopped running, and suddenly began calling, “Here, Fido!  Here, Fido!” Lloyd looked around eagerly, expecting to see some pet dog, and wishing that she had one of the many pet animals left behind at Locust, to amuse her now.  But no dog was in sight.  The girl in the scarlet jacket turned around with an angry scowl.

“Stop calling me that, Howl Sattawhite!” she exclaimed, crossly.  “I’ll tell mamma.  You know what she said she’d do to you if you called me anything but Fidelia.”

“And you know what she said she’d do to you if you kept calling me Howl,” shouted the larger of the boys, making a saucy face and darting forward to give one of her long plaits of hair a sudden pull.

Quick as a flash, Fidelia turned, and catching him by the wrists, twisted them till he began to whimper with pain, and tried to set his teeth in her hand.

“You dare bite me, you little beast!” she cried.  “You just dare, and I’ll tell mamma how you spit at the waiter the morning we left the hotel.”

Lloyd was scandalised.  They were quarrelling like two little dogs, seemingly unconscious of the fact that a hundred people were within hearing.  As Fidelia seemed to be getting the upper hand, the little brother joined in, calling in a high piping voice, “And if you squeal on Howell, Fidelia Sattawhite, I’ll tell mamma how you went out walking by yourself in New York when she told you not to, and took her new purse and lost it!  So there, Miss Smarty!”

“Oh, those dreadful American children!” said an English woman near Lloyd.  “They’re all alike.  At least the ones who travel.  I have never seen any yet that had any manners.  They are all pert and spoiled.  Fancy an English child, now, making such a scene in public!”

The Little Colonel could feel her face growing painfully red.  She was indignant at being classed with such rude children, and walked quickly away.  At the cabin door she met a maid, who, coming out on deck with something wrapped carefully in an embroidered shawl, sat down on one of the empty benches.

Scarcely was she seated when the two boys pounced down upon her and began pulling at the blanket.  “Oh, let me see Beauty, Fanchette,” begged Howell.  “Make him sit up and do some tricks.”