Dolly was flurried. “I dunno,” she murmured. “You don’t understand things, Minkie. Dad is desperately anxious that we should not offend Mr. Schwartz, who can be either a very good friend or a dangerous enemy. Oh, sis! What a happy world it would be if we had all the money we want!”
“P’raps. Schwartz is rich, and he looked happy last night, didn’t he? Jack’s uncle is rolling in coin, and to-day he is nursing a foot the size of an elephant’s.”
“I am not thinking of myself, Minkie.”
“I know that. You are trying to help Dad, and he is fretting because he has to pay a lot of money on the 10th of January.”
Dolly opened her eyes widely.
“Who told you?” she cried.
“Sh-s-s-sh. There’s Mam calling. She wants us to look in at nurse’s cottage. What about Jack—quick!”
“I’ll see,” whispered Dolly.
People who play poker are a bit doubtful when they say that. If you add the recognized fact that the woman who hesitates is lost you will understand at once that when Minkie and I climbed over the orchard fence at 2.15, Miss Dorothy came running after us.
“Mam has gone upstairs, and Mr. Schwartz and father are in the library, so I will join you in your stroll,” she said, trying to keep up a pretence.