“Oh, it would not make her any trouble,” said Phonny. “I should take care of it myself.”
“It would not make her much trouble, I know,” said Wallace, “if you were only considerate and careful. As it is I think it may make her a great deal.”
“No,” said Phonny, “I don’t think that it will make her any trouble at all.”
“Where shall you keep your squirrel?” asked Wallace.
“In a cage, in the back room,” said Phonny, promptly.
“Have you got a cage?” asked Wallace.
“No,” said Phonny, “but I can make one.”
“I think that in making a cage,” replied Wallace, “you would have to give other people a great deal of trouble. You would be inquiring all about the house, for tools, and boards, and wire,—that is unless you keep your tools and materials for such kind of work, in better order than boys usually do.”
Phonny was silent. His thoughts reverted to a certain room in one of the out-buildings, which he called his shop, and used for that purpose, and which was, as he well knew, at this time in a state of great confusion.
“Then,” continued Wallace, “you will leave the doors open, going and coming, to see your squirrel, and to feed him.”