“I’se got a pair er sneakers dat you kin wear, Missy,” Uncle Abe announced. “Dey ain’t no count nohow, but dey’s got sol’s an’ dat sho’ am better dan walkin’ in dose socks.”
“Thanks a lot, Uncle, you’re such a grand help to us—” She smiled at the old man and he fairly beamed. “I’ll love wearing them. But first of all, we’ll heat some water and wash dishes. Don’t look so annoyed, Bill. We’ve got plenty of time, now, and there’s nothing more slovenly than letting the dishes go after a meal. We did it because we had to last night, but I intend to leave Uncle Abe’s cabin just as spick and span as we found it. You fetch some water and heat it while Uncle Abe scrapes the plates. In the meantime I’ll straighten up the back room and sweep out the house.”
Dorothy was as good as her word. By the time the dish water was hot, her bed had been made, the cabin swept and generally put to rights. Then she brought out the dishpan and washed both the supper and breakfast dishes while Bill and Uncle Abe dried them.
“Some swell housekeeper,” said Bill to Uncle Abe with a grimace, “and she knows how to make the men folks work, too!”
“An’ dat am ez it should be,” declared the old darky solemnly. “De Good Book say, ‘what am food fo’ de goose am good eatin’ fo’ de gander’....”
“I don’t know whether that’s a compliment, or not, Uncle,” laughed Dorothy. “But you see, it didn’t take long, and I feel better knowing everything’s clean.”
“Is your ladyship ready to go now?” asked Bill.
“Quite ready—thank you so much.”
“Then let’s shove off. What you said about Stoker and Terry a while ago has got me worried, I must admit. I want to get to a telephone just as soon as possible.”
Uncle Abe left the cabin first. After scouting about in the cold drizzle for a few minutes, he came back and declared that the way was clear.