“Sure,” agreed Mr. Adams. “But it probably won’t do no good. She can’t remember things straight, you know.”
“She might remember seeing Mary Louise, if she had stopped in,” replied Mrs. Gay. “Anyhow, it’s worth trying.”
“Go right up,” said the old man. “Room at the back of the house. You won’t have no trouble finding it. Sorry I can’t go with you, but my leg’s pretty bad tonight.”
“Oh, that’s all right!” responded Mrs. Gay. “I’ll find the way by myself. You better stay here, Freckles.”
The boy looked disappointed; he would have liked to take another look at that queer creature and size her up for himself. Maybe she had done something to Mary Lou! But he sat down on the steps as his mother advised and waited patiently.
Mrs. Gay hurried on up to Rebecca’s room, and found the woman in bed, as she had expected, with her tangled gray hair spread over the pillows. She stared blankly at her visitor.
“I am Mary Louise’s mother, Rebecca,” announced Mrs. Gay. “You remember Mary Louise? The girl who saved the Smith baby in the fire?”
The woman nodded. “Yes, I know Mary Louise. She came to see me today. Got me a drink of water. It wasn’t well water, but it tasted good. She is a fine girl. I like Mary Louise.”
“What time was she here?”
“I don’t know. I can’t tell time. It’s all the same to me—except day and night. She was here in daytime.”