"Mickey, did he really?" rejoiced the girl. "Douglas, when may Mickey show me what he wants me to do?"
"Right now," he answered. "I got a load of books while he was away yesterday and I haven't started them yet. Now is the best time."
When Mickey made a leap from the trolley platform that night, at what he already had named Cold Cream Junction, he was almost buried under boxes. He stepped high and prideful, for he had collected the money from his paper route and immediately spent some of it under Leslie Winton's supervision.
Pillow bolstered, on the front porch, on his comfort lay the tiny girl he loved. Mickey stopped and made a detailed inspection. Peaches leaned forward and reached toward him; her greeting was indescribably sweet. Mickey dropped the bundles and went into her arms; even in his joy he noted a new strength in her grip on him, an unusual clinging. He drew back half alarmed.
"You been a good girl?" he queried suspiciously.
"Jus' as good!" asserted Peaches.
"You didn't go and say any——?"
"Not ever Mickey-lovest! Not one!" she cried. "I ain't even thinked one! That will help, Peter says so!"
"You have been washed and fed and everything all right?" he proceeded.
"Jus' as right!" she insisted.