I began to think that “yes” was all she knew how to say.
“Considering what it does,” said Scoop, “the soap is very cheap at ten cents a cake, or three cakes for a quarter. I’m sorry, Mrs. Pederson, that I haven’t any extra cakes. I know how disappointed you are. No doubt you are thinking of some unfortunate woman friend who has warts and wrinkles; and, in your kind-hearted way, you would give anything, almost, to be able to send this unfortunate friend a cake of our marvelous Bubbles of Beauty, which has the directions for its proper use printed on the bottom of each box. See, Mrs. Pederson?” and he showed her the printing. “I’ll be over this fall,” he concluded, “for the geranium slips that you promised me.”
He slowly gathered up the soap, patting each cake, sort of, as though it was very dear to his heart. And he smelled of each cake and waved it [[69]]under Mrs. Pederson’s nose so that she could smell of it.
Suddenly he straightened and gave a glad cry.
“Why!… I know where my extra cake is.” He jerked off his cap and there was the lost cake on top of his head. He must have placed it under his cap while I was sitting on the rock.
Mrs. Pederson reached quickly for the soap.
“It will be ten cents,” Scoop told her, stepping back.
She hurried into the house and came out with her pocketbook.
When we were in the road, our leader looked back at the farmhouse and laughed.
“That’s the time, Mrs. Pederson,” he said, “that we came out ahead.”