hand. Giving them a fling away over beyond the last row of desks, Bob got a firm grip on Mary's wrist.
Miss Williams saw what he had done and gave a glad cry.
She at once seized the other wrist of Mary. Then both held her a prisoner.
Mary got very wild. She turned on Bob and her eyes were blazing.
"You bad boy!" she cried. "When I get my scissors again I'll cut your fingers off."
"Now be sensible, Mary," pleaded Miss Williams gently with the struggling woman. "You don't want me to send for the constable and have you taken back to the poor farm, do you?"
This terrified and finally quieted the mad woman.
"Oh, no, no!" she cried. "Please don't do that; please don't!"
"See here, Mary," said Bob, "you know my mother?"
"Yes, I do, Bob," answered the woman, nodding.
"She's your friend, isn't she?"
"Yes, indeed! She gave me a week's work and a nice room all to myself last spring."
"Well, you come with me, Mary," said Bob, "and we'll go up to the house. My mother has been making a silk quilt, and I'm sure she has some pretty pieces she'll give you to fix up your doll."
"Oh, won't that be fine!" cried Mary, in childish glee. "Yes, yes," she said; "take me there right away, will you?"
They felt safe now to let go of Mary. She clapped her hands in great glee, and seemed to have forgotten about cutting off the teacher's hair.
"Mary," asked Miss Williams, "have you been hiding in the storeroom ever since school began?"
