“I guess she must know something about the way gas has gone up,” chuckled Neale O’Neil, “and she wanted to pay for her share.”
They had to secure that egg at once and run to ask “mother” if they could have it. Though, as Dot Kenway declared:
“It’s the most mysteriousest thing why that blacksmith calls her ‘mother’ when she isn’t, but she’s his wife.”
However, that “mysteriousest thing” was not on the carpet just then. It was the egg found in the automobile that was in question, and the blacksmith’s wife said:
“Yes, of course you shall have it. Them dratted hens lay everywhere. I guess they’d lay in the parson’s hat.”
“Oo-oo! not if he had it on,” murmured Dot.
Then immediately, there was another subject of discussion. What should they do with the fresh-laid egg?
“Eat it, of course,” said Sammy.
“It won’t go far—one egg—among three such savage appetites as you kids possess,” Neale declared.
“Why—no,” murmured Tess. “You couldn’t very well divide an egg in three parts.”