“Too bad about that fire night before last,” remarked the old man. “Lucky thing they saved the little girl.”
“It was Mary Louise who did that,” announced Jane proudly, nodding towards her chum.
“Hm! You don’t say!” returned Mr. Adams. “Well, I reckon girls are braver’n boys nowadays. My Hattie’s a good girl, too. Can’t say anything ag’in’ her.”
“Oh yes, everybody likes Hattie,” agreed Mary Louise instantly. She wished that she could ask Mr. Adams about his other daughter—Rebecca—but she didn’t know just how to begin.
Jane, however, came bluntly to the point, as usual.
“Mr. Adams,” she said, “may I ask a question? You wouldn’t mind—if it was something about your family?”
The old man grinned.
“I know what it is, miss. It’s about my daughter Rebecca, ain’t it? Yes, go ahead. I ain’t sensitive about her—we ought to be used to her by now!”
“That’s right,” agreed Jane. “Do you think she could be starting the fires? Do you know, she warned Mary Louise day before yesterday there would be another fire? And of course there was. And then she came to our tent that night and wakened us up to tell us that Smiths’ house was on fire.”
Mr. Adams nodded.