"It is," replied Mary Willee, firmly. "You can say two things, and then good-by."
Two things! Sabine Bob stared at the little yellow circle of light on the smoky ceiling over the lamp; then out of the window into the darkness. Two things more; and there were so many thousand things to say! Her mind was a blank.
"I am waiting," Mary reminded her, poising her pen pitilessly.
"Tell him," gasped out Sabine, "tell him—I t'ink I raise some hens."
Letter by letter the pregnant sentence was inscribed, while Sabine stared at the pen with paralyzed attention, as if her doom were being written in the Book of Judgment; and now the time had come for the second thing! Tears of helplessness stood in her eyes.
"Ask him," she blurted out, "would the hundred and fifty dollars what I got buy a nice little horse and truck."
Mary Willee paused. She seemed embarrassed.
"Write it," commanded the other.
Mary Willee looked almost frightened. "Must you say that about the money?" she asked, weakly.