Robbie

           "Ninety-eight–ninety-nine–onehundred."Gloriawithdrew

           herchubbylittleforearmfrombeforehereyesandstoodforamoment,

           wrinklinghernoseandblinkinginthesunlight.Then,tryingtowatchinalldirectionsatonce,shewithdrewafewcautiousstepsfromthetreeagainstwhichshehadbeenleaning.

           Shecranedhernecktoinvestigatethepossibilitiesofaclumpofbushestotherightandthenwithdrewfarthertoobtainabetterangleforviewingitsdarkrecesses.Thequietwasprofoundexceptfortheincessantbuzzingofinsectsandtheoccasionalchirrupofsomehardybird,bravingthemiddaysun.

           Gloriapouted,"Ibethewentinsidethehouse,andI’vetoldhimamilliontimesthatthat’snotfair."

           Withtinylipspressedtogethertightlyandaseverefrowncrinklingherforehead,shemoveddeterminedlytowardthetwo-storybuildinguppastthedriveway.

           Toolatesheheardtherustlingsoundbehindher,followedbythedistinctiveandrhythmicclump-clumpofRobbie’smetalfeet.Shewhirledabouttoseehertriumphingcompanionemergefromhidingandmakeforthehome-treeatfullspeed.

           Gloriashriekedindismay."Wait,Robbie!Thatwasn’tfair,Robbie!Youpromisedyouwouldn’trununtilIfoundyou."HerlittlefeetcouldmakenoheadwayatallagainstRobbie’sgiantstrides.