“It isn’t Julia’s fault,” she thought.  “She probably knows nothing about our acquaintance with Eleanor; besides, Eleanor has no business to play such tricks.  Edna Wright must have told her all about last year.”

Her reflections were cut short, for one of the girls glanced up from her digging with a sudden exclamation which drew all eyes toward Julia and her party.

“Well, little folks,” said Julia in mock surprise, “what sort of a party is this?  Are you making mud pies or are you pretending you are at the seashore?”

At Julia’s first words Eleanor dropped the small spade she held and straightened up, the picture of defiance.  Her glance traveled from girl to girl, and she curled her lip contemptuously as her eye rested on Grace and Anne.  The other diggers looked sheepishly at Julia, who stood eyeing them in a way that made them feel “too foolish for anything,” as one of them afterwards expressed it.

“Why don’t you answer me, little girls?” asked Julia.  “Has the kitty stolen your tongue?”

This was too much for Eleanor.

“How dare you speak to us in that manner and treat us as though we were children?” she burst forth.  “What business is it of yours why we are here?  Do you own this property?”

“Mercy, no,” replied Julia composedly.  “Do you?”

“No,” replied Eleanor a trifle less rudely, “but we have as much right here as you have.”

“Granted,” replied Julia calmly.  “However, there is this difference.  You are here to make mischief and we are here to prevent it, and, furthermore, are going to do so.”

“What do you mean?” retorted Eleanor, her eyes flashing.

“Just this,” replied Julia.  “Last year the girls belonging to the present senior and junior classes met on this very spot and amicably disposed of a two-year-old class grudge.  Emblematic of this they buried a hatchet, once occupying a humble though honorable position in the Crosby family, but cheerfully sacrificed for the good of the cause.

“Yesterday,” continued Julia, “I overheard two juniors plotting to get possession of this same hatchet for the purpose of flaunting it in the faces of the seniors at the opening basketball game.  Therefore I decided to take a hand in things, and here I am, backed by girls from both classes, who are of the self-same mind.”

“Really, Miss Crosby,” said Edna Wright, “you are very amusing.”

“My friends all think so,” returned Julia sweetly, “but never mind now about my amusing qualities, Edna.  Let’s talk about the present situation.”

She looked at Edna with the old-time aggravating smile that was always warranted to further incense her opponent.  It had its desired effect, for Edna fairly bristled with indignation and was about to make a furious reply when she was pushed aside by Eleanor, who said loftily, “Allow me to talk to this person, Edna.”