“We certainly are, Benny.”
“Richer ’n the Pennocks?”
“Very much.”
“An’ the Gaylords?”
“Well—hardly that”—her face clouded perceptibly—“that is, not until we get the rest—in two years.” She brightened again.
“Then, if we’re rich we can have everything we want, can’t we?” Benny’s eyes were beginning to sparkle.
“Well—” hesitated his mother.
“I guess there’ll be enough to satisfy your wants, Benny,” laughed his Uncle Frank.
Benny gave a whoop of delight.
“Then we can go back to the East Side and live just as we’ve a mind to, without carin’ what other folks do, can’t we?” he crowed. “Cause if we are rich we won’t have ter keep tryin’ ter make folks think we are. They’ll know it without our tryin’.”