“Oh, say!” Helen went on. “They tell me that old hermit has submitted a story in the contest. What do you suppose it is like, Ruth?”
The girl of the Red Mill was sitting beside Aunt Kate. She flushed when she said:
“Why shouldn’t he submit one?”
“But that hermit isn’t quite right in his head, is he?” demanded Ruth’s chum.
“I don’t know that it is his head that is wrong,” murmured Ruth, shaking her own head doubtfully.
Here Jennie broke in. “Is auntie letting you read her story, Ruth?” she asked slyly.
“Now, Jennie Stone!” exclaimed their chaperon, blushing.
“Well, you are writing one. You know you are,” laughed her niece.
“I—I am just trying to see if I can write such a story,” stammered Aunt Kate.
“Well, I am sure you could make up a better scenario than that old grouch of a hermit,” Helen declared, warmly.