Mrs. Wilson nodded. "It is. Two pieces of bread an' butter an' a doughnut an' a tart fer each of you. Is it enough?"
"I guess so," Billy replied indifferently.
Anson eyed him suspiciously, then turned to his mother. "I wish't you'd do our dinners up separate, Ma," he whined.
"Why?" asked Mrs. Wilson, in surprise.
"Well, 'cause Bill hogs it, that's why," complained Anson. "Last time we had tarts I didn't get none. An' it's the same with pie an' cake."
Mrs. Wilson gazed sternly at Billy. "Willium, do you take Anson's tarts and pie?" she asked ominously.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Billy, promptly.
"There now!" exulted Anson, glancing triumphantly at his mother, who sat staring and incredulous at the unabashed offender.
Billy looked gravely down at his accuser, then apprehensively at his judge. As no immediate sentence seemed forthcoming he turned toward the door.
"Stop!" Mrs. Wilson had risen suddenly from her chair and stood pointing an accusing finger at Billy.