"I wouldn't do that—yet," said Quin, who had begun to walk to the factory to save carfare. "Those old boys and girls are his friends; we can't sell them. I can see him now talking to 'em through his pipe smoke. I ought to have some junk we can soak. Let's go see."
The investigation resulted in the conversion of a pair of new wing-toed dancing-shoes and a silver cigarette-case into an ice-bag and an electric fan.
"I could stand everything else," said Rose, "if we could just get the children out of the house. Edwin is still as weak as a kitten, and Myrna looks as if she might come down with the fever any day."
Quin had a brilliant idea. "Why not ship 'em both to the country? Ed could come to town to work every day, and Myrna could help somebody around the house."
"That sounds mighty fine; but who is going to take two children to board for nothing?"
"I don't know yet," said Quin; "that's what I've got to find out."
That night he went out to Valley Mead and put the matter squarely up to Mr. and Mrs. Ranny.
"We're up against it at our house," he said; "I want to borrow something from you two good people."
"You can have anything we've got!" said Mr. Ranny rashly.
"Well, I want to borrow some fresh air for a couple of sick kids. I want you to ask 'em out here for a week."