"Six," baby Emma guessed.
"Four," little Joe said soberly.
"Five," Carlyle hazarded.
"Nope." Alfred was shaking with suppressed mirth.
"How many do you have?" Barbara asked.
"Not any!"
Alfred burst into laughter and little Joe protested seriously, "That is not the way to play this game!"
Emma looked brightly at Joe and he smiled back. They were still a lost dot on a vast prairie and their situation had not changed materially from last night's. But they were out of the mud. They had met and defeated a slimy, vicious enemy that had done its best to drag them down, and their spirits lifted accordingly.
Emma breathed, "This is wonderful!"
"Like riding on feathers," Joe agreed and he called back to his daughter, "How do you like this, Bobby?"