“Never mind, Billy,” laughed Bobby, clapping him on the shoulder. “You can’t always put it over. And, anyway, Pee Wee’s going to spend that dime to treat the bunch and you’ll have your share of the doughnuts.”
“Sure thing,” said Pee Wee generously. “I can get ten doughnuts for a dime, and I can’t eat more than eight of them. The other two you fellows can divide up among yourselves.”
“Don’t give things away so recklessly, or I can see where you’ll be going to the poorhouse in your old age,” chaffed Fred.
“He’ll never live to be old,” put in Shiner. “He’ll die early from enlargement of the heart.”
“Maybe he’ll strain a point and give us three,” suggested Mouser hopefully. “But, anyway, let’s go down to the store and get them now while Pee Wee still has the dime.”
“It’s a pretty long walk,” objected Pee Wee. “And what with that stone bruise on my foot and the way I’ve been working—”
“That’s right!” observed Sparrow. “We forgot all about that stone bruise. It isn’t fair to make poor Pee Wee go all that way. He can give us the dime and we’ll go down and get the doughnuts and bring him back his share.”
This appealed to all but Pee Wee, who had well-grounded fears that they would bring back his share inside of them.
“I guess I can make it,” he said, getting heavily to his feet. “But let’s take our time. There’s no use going at it as if we were running a Marathon.”
He led the way with the air of a monarch followed by his retainers, and not one of them stayed behind, for the lure of the doughnut was too strong to be resisted.