“You need not be afraid of Tavia,” spoke up Dorothy, as Tavia came up and stood staring at the strange boy.
“Well, of all things—” she began.
“No, not of all things,” interrupted Dorothy with a wink at Tavia. “You see we found a hungry boy and are bringing him along to get something to eat. He came near scaring us at first, but turned out more harmed than harmful.”
Tavia looked from one to the other. Then she seemed to understand.
“Well, if he can get anything worth eating here,” she said, “I hope he’ll be good enough to pass on the tip. I’m about famished myself, and these nuts are too green for regular diet.”
“I’ve been eating them for days,” said the stranger, “but a change would go good.”
Edna looked mystified. She saw that Dorothy acted queerly—to talk so familiarly to a strange boy! But then Dorothy always tried to make people feel comfortable, she reflected; perhaps this was the case at present.
Further along they encountered other girls coming in from their exercise. All cast wondering eyes at the group with Dorothy, but the questions asked were answered vaguely—without really imparting any information, concerning the strange boy. Some of the girls were inclined to sneer, of course, but when Tavia fell back and whispered that the poor boy was almost starved, and the girls should not make fun of him, even Nita Brandt looked on with pity.
“We’ll go around the kitchen way,” said Dorothy to the stranger, as they reached the building. “We’ll see you later girls,” she told Tavia and Miette, “but this is a good time to talk to the cook.”
Miette had almost forgotten her own troubles, so absorbed was she in the plight of the poor boy.