It was Chicken Little who finally wormed his trouble out of him.
“Gee, I wish I had some decent marbles. Sherm’s got a stunner of an onyx and six flints and——”
“Why Ernest Morton, I thought Father gave you a quarter last night to get some.”
Ernest grinned in embarrassed silence.
Chicken Little regarded him suspiciously.
“What did you do with it?”
Ernest did not deign to reply.
“Bet you spent it for those grapes for Marian.”
Ernest drummed on the window.
“She doesn’t ’spect you to take your marble money for her, goosie. Say, Ernest, what’s the matter?”