"It seems as though I ought to, but it's kind of hard work carryin' the princess. Aunt Dorcas gave me the cakes so's we wouldn't need to hurry on the road, an'—where are they?"
"Do you mean that little bunch of cakes you gave me?"
"Little bunch! Why, there was a stack of 'em!"
"It don't make any difference how many there was, 'cause I ate the whole lot."
Joe looked at the amateur detective as if about to make an angry reply; but checked himself, and Dan said, defiantly:
"The time's gone by when you can put on airs with me, Joe Potter. I ain't goin' to starve to death when there's anything 'round I can eat."
"No, you'd rather let a little baby like this one go hungry. I wouldn't have touched the cakes any sooner'n I'd cut my finger off, 'cause they was for her."
"You make me tired with your bloomin' princess. She's stuffed jest about as full as she can hold, an' I'm the same as starved."
Joe did not so much as look at the selfish boy, but walked more rapidly than before until fully one-half the distance from Mrs. Weber's to aunt Dorcas's had been traversed.
Light though the burden was, his arms ached from long carrying the child, and it seemed absolutely necessary to come to a halt.