“All right,” flung back Marty. “They’re goin’ to op’rate.” There was pride in his voice easy to translate. Hadn’t they always hoped for that operation?
Mrs. Towers smiled knowingly. “Of course,” she said, “she will be all right after that. And there’ll be plenty of money now if this thing goes through.”
The others were back. Ben had talked to his father on the phone, and the experienced contractor readily agreed with all his son’s suggestions.
“There is no doubt of it, dad says,” he told Mrs. Towers. “In fact, he can see even bigger things than I grasped in the excitement. But depend upon it, you will all be drawing dividends from Echo Park stock before three months’ time.”
“Then Hazel can take from Madam Martinelli,” said the devoted mother.
“Singing lessons,” explained Gloria, to Ben’s raised eyebrows.
“And when the water is all gone from that cellar we’ll have a big housewarming,” declared Gloria, rather proudly.
“You bet chu!” chimed in the jubilant Marty.
But Tommy Whitely’s face was inscrutable behind his fading freckles.
THE END