"No, but on the road to it."
"If she'd come an' live with us, she wouldn't have to fill no wood-box, would she?" Sue inquired.
"Or pick up chips," Socky put in, brushing one palm across the other with a look of dread. The children had discussed that problem in bed the night before. Their aunt had made them fill the wood-box and bring in a little basket of chips every night and morning. It went well enough for a day or two, but the task had begun to interrupt other plans.
"Oh no," said Master. "We'll be good to her."
Socky was noting every look and word—nothing escaped him. He felt grateful to his young lieutenant, and sat for a little time looking dreamily into the air. Then, with thoughtful eyes, he felt the watch-chain of the young man.
"You'd let her wear your watch—wouldn't you?"
"Gladly."
"She could look at my aunt's album," Sue suggested, as she thought of the pleasures of the camp.
Socky looked a bit doubtful.
"She mustn't git no grease on it or she'll git spoke to," Sue went on as she thought of the perils of the camp.