Darry looked foolish, then annoyed. His sister was in an ecstasy of delight. She enjoyed her big brother’s annoyance. She and Jessie and Burd had finished their cream.
“Come on, Darry,” Burd drawled, taking a hint from the girls. “Sorry you are off your feed and can’t finish George Washington’s finest product. I’ll eat it for you, if you say so, and then we’ll beat it.” 102
He reached casually for Darry’s plate; but the latter would not yield it without a struggle. The incident, however, gave Darry a chance to break away from the insistent Belle. The latter stared at the two girls at Darry’s table, sniffed, and tossed her head.
“Yes, Mr. Drew,” she said in her high-pitched voice, “I suppose you have to take the children home in good season, or they would be chastised.”
“Ouch!” exclaimed Burd. “I bet that hurt you, Amy.”
Darry had picked up both checks from the table. Belle smiled up at him and moved her check to the edge of her table as Darry rather grimly bade her good-night. He refused to see that check, but strode over to the desk to pay the others.
“That girl ought to get a job at a broadcasting station,” growled out Darry, as they went out upon the street. “I never knew before she was such a chatterbox. Don’t need any radio rigging at all where she is.”
“Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to get a chance to work at a broadcasting station?” Amy cried. “We could sing, Jess. You know we sing well together. ‘The Dartmoor Boy’ and ‘Bobolink, Bobolink, Spink-spank-spink’ and––”
“And ‘My Old Kentucky Blues,’” broke in Burd Alling. “If you are going to broadcast anything like that, give us something up to date.” 103
“You hush,” Amy said. “If Jess and I ever get the chance we shall be an honor to the program. You’ll see.”