“Oh, you little tyke,” cried his mother, half scolding him, as was proper, “why did you run away the moment my back was turned, giving us such a fright? Why did you do it, William?”
She seldom called him William unless he had done something very wrong, as he had done this time.
“Why did you run away and go over to the platform by yourself, William?” asked his father.
“’Cause—now—I had a penny,” was the answer. “I had a penny an’ I wanted to get some candy for the nellifunt!”
“Oh, you and your elephants!” sighed Janet. “Will you ever get over them?”
“There aren’t any elephants here at Sunset Beach,” said Ted, who was ready to help his father gather up the bags and bundles, to put them in a station auto in which the trip was to be made to the cottage the Martins had taken for the summer.
“Maybe there’s a nellifunt,” said Trouble, who had been brought back from the candy machine by Janet. “An’ I want my piece of candy for a penny!”
“Didn’t you get the piece of candy out of the machine?” asked Ted.
“Nope,” and Trouble shook his head. “I put my penny in, I did,” he said, “but there didn’t any candy come out for the nellifunt!”
“I guess he couldn’t press the handle in hard enough,” suggested Janet.