"Why can't girls be pirates?" demanded the logical Dot. "Don't pirates have to have somebody to cook and wash and keep house for them?"
"I—I don't know," admitted Sammy honestly. "I never read about any girl pirates. But," as he saw Dot's pretty face beginning to cloud over, "I don't know why there shouldn't be, if they wasn't too 'fraid."
"I won't be afraid," Dot declared, steeling herself as she had once done when she was forced to go to the dentist's office.
"We-ell," began Sammy still doubtfully. But Dot was nothing if not determined when once she made up her mind.
"Now, you come right along, Sammy Pinkney, if we're going to run away and be pirates. You know your mother won't let you if she comes home and catches you here."
"But—but we ought to take something to eat—and some clothes—and—and a pistol and a knife—"
"Oo-ee!" squealed the little girl. "You won't take any horrid pistol and knife if you're going to run off to be pirates with me, Sammy Pinkney. Why, I'd be afraid to go with you."
"Huh!" grumbled Sammy, "you don't haf to go."
"But you said I could," Dot declared, sure of her position. "And now you can't back out—you know you can't, Sammy. That wouldn't be fair."
"Aw, well. We gotter have money," he objected faintly.