“Now, Shadrach! You know you was the one that would fetch her over that very day.”
“Oh, blame it onto me, of course!”
“I ain't blamin' anybody. But she's here and we've got to decide whether to send her away or not. Shall we?”
They were interrupted by Mary-'Gusta herself, who entered the barn, where the discussion took place, a doll under one arm and a very serious expression on her face.
“Hello!” hailed Zoeth. “What's the matter?”
Mary-'Gusta seated herself upon an empty cranberry crate. The partners had a joint interest in a small cranberry bog and the crate was one of several unused the previous fall.
“There's nothin' the matter,” she said, solemnly. “I've been thinkin', that's all.”
“Want to know!” observed the Captain. “Well, what made you do anything as risky as that?”
Mary-'Gusta's forehead puckered.
“I was playin' with Jimmie Bacheldor yesterday,” she said, “and he made me think.”