“Here’s your opener,” said the man, “if that’s what you’re looking for. Here, you get the glasses and I’ll open the bottles. We’re in kind of a hurry. Got to catch a train.”
Well, they were not the only people who had to catch a train, Betsy thought sadly. They drank in gulps and departed, cramming doughnuts into their mouths. Betsy wished ardently that the girl would come back. She was now almost sure that she had forgotten and would dance there till nightfall. But there, there she came, running along, as light-footed after an hour’s dancing as when she had left the booth.
“Here you are, kid,” said the young man, producing a quarter. “We’ve had the time of our young lives, thanks to you.”
Betsy gave him back one of the nickels that remained to her, but he refused it.
“No, keep the change,” he said royally. “It was worth it.”
“Then I’ll buy two doughnuts with my extra nickel,” said Betsy.
“No, you won’t,” said the girl. “You’ll take all you want for nothing ... Momma’ll never miss ’em. And what you sell here has got to be fresh every day. Here, hold out your hands, both of you.”
“Some people came and bought things,” said Betsy, happening to remember as she and Molly turned away. “The money is on that shelf.”
“Well, now!” said the girl, “if she didn’t take hold and sell things! Say ...”—she ran after Betsy and gave her a hug—“you smart young one, I wish’t I had a little sister just like you!”
Molly and Betsy hurried along out of the gate into the main street of the town and down to the station. Molly was eating doughnuts as she went. They were both quite hungry by this time, but Betsy could not think of eating till she had those tickets in her hand.