“I’d screech, too,” said Jennie Stone, “if I’d torn a perfectly good silk dress to tatters as she has.”
“Think of going huckleberrying in a frock like that,” murmured Ruth. “I guess you are both right. And Mr. Peterby Paul did have good reason for calling her a ‘Whosis’.”
CHAPTER XII
ALONGSHORE
Mr. Peterby Paul appeared after a short time striding down the wooded hillside balancing a five-gallon gasoline can in either hand.
“I reckon you can get to Ridgeton on this here,” he said jovially. “Guess I’d better set up a sign down here so’s other of you autermobile folks kin take heart if ye git stuck.”
“You are just as welcome as the flowers in spring, tra-la!” cried Helen, fairly dancing with delight.
“You are an angel visitor, Mr. Paul,” said the plump girl.