“I’m sure of it!” the kind woman replied, then, dismissing the girl, she added, “It’s time for the alcohol rub, dearie. Come back at four and you may read to your dad until supper time.”
“Oh, I surely will.” For a long moment Mary’s rosebud cheek pressed the thin wan one she so loved, then she slipped away.
Dick had spoken with his mother a brief moment when Mary had first gone in and she had been pleased to see the deepening tan on his face. The boy had not told her of his recent narrow escape, as Jerry had called it when the Gila Monster had set its cruel jaws on his coat sleeve. Brave as he was, Dick could not recall the terror of that moment without experiencing it all over again. He was sure he would have nightmares about it for a long time to come.
When Dora tripped down from upstairs where she had been to tidy up, she found Dick waiting for her in the lower hall.
“Where are the two Erries?” she asked, then laughed as he looked mystified. “Mary and Jerry. Of course if it were spelled Merry, it would be better.”
“In the kitchen,” Dick replied. “I was told to guide you thence.”
They heard spoons rattling in glasses. “Oh, good!” Dora exclaimed. “That sounds like a nice, cool drink.”
Nor was she wrong. There at the table in the shady corner of the kitchen stood Mary mixing fruit juices she had poured from cans which Jerry had opened.
“Yum! Yum!” Dora exclaimed in high appreciation. “What is better than pineapple and strawberry juice and cold water from the spring cellar?”
“Sounds good to me,” Dick said, smacking his lips with anticipatory relish.