"Oh pity sake! Let's hurry."
Maurice was compelled to quicken his steps in order to keep up to the long strides of the anxious woman. Suddenly he halted. "Missis Wilson," he said, "you fergot to take that last pan o' cookies out'a the oven."
The woman raised her hands in consternation.
"So I did," she exclaimed. "You stay right here an' I'll go back and take it out now."
"Let me go," said Maurice quickly. "I know jest how to do it an' kin get through in less'n half the time it'll take you."
"Well, run along then. I best keep right on. Your poor Ma'll be needin' me."
Maurice was off like a shot. As he rounded the house on a lope he ran into Billy, coming from the opposite direction. Billy's cotton blouse was bulging. In one hand he carried the smoking bake-pan, in the other a fat cookie deeply scalloped on one side.
"Where you goin' so fast, Maurice?" he accosted, his mouth full.
Maurice glanced fearfully over his shoulder. "Hush, Bill. If your Ma happens to come back here it'll go bad with me."
Billy held out the pan to his chum and waited until Maurice had filled his pockets. Then he asked: "Where's she gone?"