"They certainly do," laughed Alice, "at least these little girls do."
"Then take this," said Mrs. Humphrey, handing her a five-dollar bill, "and get all you want, dear. This looks like a good place." They were back in the car of course, and Higgins had driven along the thoroughfare by the ocean—a street lined with shops.
Alice looked at the money with a feeling of dismay. How many should she get? One cone apiece and one box of crackerjack or maybe two? And how about the change? Five dollars seemed like a lot of money to carry into a crowd such as thronged the boardwalk by which the car had stopped.
Seeing her hesitation, Mrs. Humphrey said, "Would you rather I got it, dear?" and Alice replied so promptly, "oh, will you, Mrs. Humphrey?" that the lady had no doubt, but Alice would enjoy herself more if she didn't have to make the purchase.
So Mrs. Humphrey got out of the car and hurried to the shop. It is hardly likely that she had made such a purchase before—certainly not often, for when she got into the shop she scarcely knew what to buy, or how much the girls could eat. Of course they would be hungry—she bought four boxes of crackerjack and five cones; that amount simply because that seemed to be all she could carry, and went back to the car.
"Can you help me?" she asked as she found herself too loaded down to step comfortably into her car. Mary Jane was on that side and she reached out and took the boxes of crackerjack while Mrs. Merrill took the cones.
"Where's Higgins's crackerjack?" asked Mary Jane making a hasty count.
"What did you say, dear?" asked Mrs. Humphrey who thought her ears must have deceived her, "Higgins' what?"
"Higgins's crackerjack," repeated Mary Jane, "you've got a cone for everybody and only four boxes of crackerjack. Doesn't Higgins like crackerjack?"
"I really—why—" Mrs. Humphrey was so amazed that for the minute she couldn't think of anything to say. Higgins and crackerjack!