“Then I’m going to take Maryann Puddingstick Clothespin, my very nicest doll,” said Beckie.
“All right,” agreed her brother. “Now we must get ready. And, mind you, it’s a secret. No one must know anything about it.”
“Can’t I tell—tell mamma?” asked Beckie, tears coming in her eyes.
“No, not even mamma.”
“Then I’m not going!”
“Oh, that’s just like you girls!” cried Neddie. “We fellows get everything going nicely and you won’t play fair. You can leave a note for mamma, after we’re gone, telling that you’ve run away, if you like.”
“Then I’ll do it,” said Beckie.
“And you must pack up what clothes you’ll need,” went on Neddie. “Put ’em in a paper bag, and I’ll do the same. Then when it gets dark we’ll go out and run away to find the man with the brass horn.”
“And when will we get some sweet buns and popcorn?” asked Beckie, anxious-like.
“Oh, as soon as we find him,” said Neddie. “Now I’m going to get ready. Mind! Not a word to anybody.”