“How many you got?” she demanded.
He dug his dirty, brown hands down deep into his trousers pockets. Then he brought up three bunches of the tally-sticks.
“Humph! I thought so,” said the woman. “Do you mean to tell me a monkey like you can pick ten an hour?”
“He’s the best picker on the patch,” spoke up another lad, “and I was with him when he brought each tray in!”
The girls stood back, deeply interested. The woman took the tray from Andy and turned away without offering the ten little sticks which represented the gathering of ten quarts of berries.
“Where’s my tallies?” he demanded.
“You—jest—w-a-i-t,” drawled the woman.
The other boys stepped back. Evidently they were going to “stick by Andy.”
“I’ll give you your crates, and let you go, young ladies,” said the woman to Cora. “These little rowdies ain’t no fit company for customers in automobiles.”
“Oh, indeed we are enjoying looking around,” declared Cora. “Do give the boys their checks, and let them go back to the patch. They are wasting time.”