“That’s what she says. But if a feller works all the mornin’ for some money, hasn’t she got a right to keep some of it?”
“I should think so.”
“So should I,” said Tom, decidedly.
“Have you got any money?”
“No, I spent it all for dinner.”
“Then here’s some.”
The boy drew from his vest-pocket twenty-five cents, and offered it to Tom.
The young Arab felt no delicacy in accepting the pecuniary aid thus tendered.
“Thank you,” said she. “You can call me names if you want to.”
“What should I want to call you names for?” asked the boy, puzzled.