Hermie's heart swelled.
'Can't you do anything?' she said.
'No,' he said, 'they'll have to go. I've had to give them up, dear. If I can get water for the house for the next week, I'll be glad. Daly is running very short himself.'
There were footsteps in the bush just near, a panting of breath, a curious dragging sound.
'Floss,' said Hermie, and remembered for the first time she had not seen her little sister for hours. 'Where can she have been?'
The child was dragging a bucket. Her face was almost purple with the heat; she had kept her eyes half closed, to shut out the almost unendurable glare, and did not know she was so close to home till she stumbled almost into Bart's arms.
When she saw Hermie there too, she clung to the handle jealously.
'It's not for the house,' she said, 'so don't you think it. Let it alone, Bart! Bart, if you take it, I'll scratch.'
Such a fierce little face it was!
'I'm only going to carry it for you, Chucks,' Bart said. 'You shall do what you like with it.'